Herald of the Stars: Chapter Three Hundred and Twenty-Five

I will have significantly less time to write next week, as such, there may be delays when posting chapters. Friday the 7th is the chapter I am most uncertain about. It is possible that there will be one chapter next week and three chapters for the week starting on the 10th of November, or whatever else I have to do to ensure you get your chapters. I will keep you all updated and maintain my usual schedule if possible. I haven't missed a date yet and I would love to keep it that way!

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My new upgrade is not easy to adjust to and it has drastically increased the amount of time I have to spend at maximum acceleration for my primary mind to get all my work done. I dislike doing this as it is terribly lonely, even for someone with my emotional disability. It also messes with my sense of time, forcing me to live by a strict schedule so that I do not lose track of what I am supposed to be doing in relation to those who are living at a much slower pace.

On the other hand, being able to make progress towards building a Warp Tap restores my confidence with each session. I am enjoying my discussions with Alpia, though even she can’t keep up with my ludicrous time acceleration. 

My wife and daughter have reduced the frequency of their little digs at me without me having to raise the issue, the bonds created with the soul armour I provided  improving my personal relationships swifter than I had imagined. Brigid and Alpia are much more comfortable in my presence and, in many ways, every day is better than the last. For the first time in many years, I actually know what happiness is.

I have also noticed a significant increase in my ease of comprehension and recall. I don’t quite have technopathy like Alpia does. I do have the next best thing; I no longer have to rely on my implants to decipher the purpose of a component or device. I need but look and touch and I will know, my brain flashing through all the relevant details without prompting. With my extensive knowledge base I have yet to come across science beyond my intellect. In addition, my mind is constantly creating new links between different disciplines, deepening my understanding of the Materium and Immaterium. What was once a challenge for me has been rendered effortless. 

I am used to being the most knowledgeable person in the room and I am self-aware enough to know that this has made me prideful. It is pride that has led me to my most self-destructive decisions and I am wary of what being the smartest person in the room will bring. So far, it has been an exercise in frustration. 

Before Hyper Intelligence I had to increase my perception of time beyond others to give myself more time to think. It made me look smart and I felt good about working through motivations and decisions at my own pace. 

Now, combined with my Navigator and Psyker Powers, and my implants, listening to people is more like watching a holodrama that I’ve seen multiple times. I already know exactly what they are going to say and I am forever waiting for the Materium to catch up to me.

I even wrote a sub-routine that analyzes all my actions, social interactions, and decisions to ensure I remain patient and polite. I am constantly driven to seek out intellectual stimulation, absorbing knowledge, running scenarios, and working on puzzles. Falling asleep naturally has become impossible. Every moment is spent in a constant state of hyper focus that leaves me stressed more often than not.

I find it most concerning that I can absolutely see how everyone else whom we experimented on with Hyper Intelligence ended up narcissistic, cocky arseholes. It’s the first upgrade I regret taking yet it is far too useful to discard.

Taking refuge within my own soul is my only respite and if I could not do so, I know that I would be joining my research subjects in their madness. I may have said otherwise to Brigid and Alpia upon waking, but now I know better. This time, I was even wise enough to share my thoughts with my family. We are all hoping that I will learn to adjust with enough time and practice. The brain is a remarkable organ and I remain confident that no problem is insurmountable.

Brigid has banned further experimentation with Hyper Intelligence and I did not argue otherwise. I would not wish to inflict my new state on anyone.

We spent over a year planning operations against the Chaos Armada during the Stellar Fleet’s approach. We modified Battle Automata, shuttles, and power armour for stealth. Enhanced self-destruct mechanisms were fitted to all assets. Extensive scenario training in simulations ensured that everyone who was selected for this operation trained for the equivalent of four years, even the Penal Light Infantry. These were just a few of our preparations.

Six weeks after our arrival at Sentanim, I watch sixteen Ruby Owl squadrons and twelve infiltration teams depart from Stellar Fleet hangars with hidden anxiousness.

They all set off at different velocities so that each group arrives at their mission objective in 75 days. We have committed 240 Ruby Owls, 4032 Penal Light Infantry, 4032 Automata, 360 Heralds, 120 Cyber-Marines, and 60 Astartes. There are also 12 squadrons of mixed shuttles and Sagitta interceptors.

I have no idea how many we will get back.

Self-propelled tanks of resources, as hidden as we can make them, are also launched towards the Lathes.

After the departure of our assets, we reposition the fleet and continue to mine water and methane from the Oort Cloud. Megatones of Universal Rations are manufactured. Automated, Soylent Viridans production systems are mass produced and set inside the advanced cargo containers I learned of so many decades ago, ready to be shipped at the next opportunity. 

With the dry weight of Universal Rations at 200 grams per person, per day, we need approximately 73 megatonnes of rations per one billion people, per year, for an average Human to meet their minimum calorific needs. Assuming that they need 2000kcal per day. 

Abbisine told me that the estimated population of the Lathes is five billion and thus our initial minimum target for food production before we depart the Oort Cloud is 365 megatonnes. Fortunately, we have had plenty of time to stockpile resources and large external tanks, that were slowly emptying, that we could put them in. We managed 90 megatonnes before our promethium stockpile and other resources ran dry.

Just to complicate matters, most of the population of the Het, Hesh, Hadd and its orbital stations are muscle bound brutes, labourers with a physique more in common with an Ogryn than a regular Human. Their calorie needs are more inline with an Astartes than a regular Human. 

The Lathe Masters, squat though they are, also have high calorie needs. The Tech-Priests are not average either as they’re all modified for high gravity environments, either through cybernetics or genetic modification. 

Abbisine did not have the data to provide a better estimate of the Sentanim’s daily calorie requirements, so the best we could do was pick a number that would stave off starvation for a normal Human. 

It is possible that our goal to provide one year of food is four to five times lower than what is actually required. While we would have liked to provide an excess, we are already struggling to provide four months of food, let alone a year, so we labelled it sufficient and tried not to think about how many people might die should we fall short. 

Our goal of a year’s food is arbitrary. Until we can contact the Lathe’s leadership though, it will suffice. Hopefully the Lathes have not lost too much of their own food production capability.

I am unable to observe the progress of our forces and care packages as I did not send any Navigators, Psy-Errants, or Psyker Servitors with them for fear that their presence would alert the mass of Daemons in the system. As such, I can only watch the augurs. 

The shuttles and Ruby Owls are equipped with Neutrino Vox, but they aren’t sending reports back as we’re taking no chances with their stealth. We don’t even know if Neutrino Vox works at long range in this time twisted system as we are not in a position to test it.

The days tick down yet the attitude in the Stellar Fleet remains buoyant. Despite the odds, few doubt that we will be victorious and I realise with some concern that much of the Stellar Fleet’s population is as prideful as I am.

75 days after our forces snuck off there is a huge spike of activity within Sentanim. Fleet command and I gather in Torchbearer’s Strategium and observe the fallout. 

I observe the Warp hoping to add additional data to the Hololith, but am unable to divine more than our augurs show. The Daemon’s in the system are far too numerous, obscuring my Warp sight. They’re not even bothered by Alpia’s golden flames, protected from her presence by a profane ritual on the Gloriana that has been going on for years, even before we arrived in the system.

The light in the Stragegium is dim. Fragrant smoke from an incense burner washes through the Hololith, fuzzing the occasional line.

Herald Primarus Domhnall Noake and Force Commander Odhran are staring at the Hololith like it's about to explode. 

High Factotum Seraphine Lebarcham and Fleet Marshal Lonceta Ridel are more composed, though their arms are crossed as they whisper to each other, their eyes snapping to the Hololith every time Artisan Laisren Toolin updates the Hololith.

Other than Odhran, Fleet Command has two other guests today, Aeronautica Marshal, Igranine Yorath and Logis Abbisine Vakul. 

Abbisine has tucked her hands into her voluminous sleeves, constantly twisting the fabric with her fingers as her mechadendrites twitch behind her.

Igraine has her arms clasped behind her back, her posture upright as she frowns at the glowing data. Every few minutes, she pulls a worn notebook from her belt and jots down an idea with a gilded quill, before putting everything away again and returning to her previous position. Her repetitive actions remind me of a game character stuck in an idle animation.

Master Psyker Reina Benetek spends more time looking at me than the Hololith, with occasional, nervous glances towards Killovie Signi, my new Master of Whispers. 

I remain uncertain if appointing an unstable assassin to such a high rank was a good idea. Killovie is the most qualified for the role though and giving her some actual responsibility and recognition has, to my great surprise, calmed her down somewhat.

Brigid is standing by me, her arm gently brushing against my own as she prods at three different dataslates held by her mechadendrites. Her dataslates list multiple plans on distributing poisoned food, Drukhari recreational drugs, and faulty weapons to the Chaos forces invading Lycocidae.

Confessor Emyr Driskel stands alone, looking solemn. His thoughts flicker with anticipation and sorrow. He knows it will be his role to comfort the relatives of the deceased in this high risk mission.

Heiress Alpia Issengrund and Canoness Ephrine Stern have been kept from the Strategium. They aren’t part of Fleet Command and have nothing to do with today’s events, nor are they required as consultants. The same applies to Thorfinn Ursus, Head of Civilian Command and Propaganda.

The Hololith updates and Reina gasps. The Excipio Station closest to us has become an expanding cloud of debris. Neat numbers and labels point to multiple detonations of vortex bombs on the outer hull of the battleship leading the defence around the destroyed station.

I say, “Congratulations, Domnhall, Odhran, Loncenta, Igraine, and Abbisine. We have our first success.”

“A little premature, Aldrich,” says Odhran with an evil grin. “It is satisfying to see the first stage of our plan see success though.”

“I can only hope my peers are ready for conflict,” says Abbisine. “Forcing the Chaos Armada to commit to an assault, by destroying their resources, is far better than letting the Enemy finish whatever they’re doing on Cella. Still, it is a terrible risk and I hate to push for such action without the proper data.”

“The corruption in the system is too thick for me to risk telepathy,” I say. “Also, they’ve had thirteen years and the Lathes are always geared for war either way.”

“So you say. However, I do think this would go a lot better if we could coordinate with Arch-Magos Ruleware," says Abbsine. “Not even risking a laser seems overly cautious to me.”

Domnhall says, “You’re the only one who thinks that, Logis Vakul. We are not going to risk our homes when we don’t have to. Our fleet’s mission has a higher purpose than saving the Lathe Worlds. You have been with us long enough to understand the weight of the knowledge we hold.”

Abbisine’s limbs whir and click as she shuffles from foot to foot though she does not dispute Domnhall’s argument.

“Logis Vakul,” says Igraine, “I understand your concern. I, to, am worried for my people, yet I have faith in their skills. Perhaps some prayers might settle your spirit?”

“I am not so weak willed as to require comfort from a woman three hundred years my junior,” says Abbisine. “It is my data and my name that made this operation possible. It might appear ungrateful, but you really have no idea how much fuss the central administration at the Nidus Omeda on Lathe Het will create over this minor conflict. 

“It does not matter that we are successful. It matters that we acted without their leave on their behalf. They will feel slighted and will act accordingly. You might all be shielded from effects by your association with the Stellar Fleet and Saint Alpia. I will be fortunate to survive the year. It is a sacrifice I am willing to make, but forgive me for trying to avoid it all together.”

“Oh quit moaning you overblown hag,” says Kilovie. “They won’t raise a single complaint once they realise how many STCs we’re bringing. You can claim we came to the Lathes first at your behest and the Forge Masters will oil your feet themselves with their best stash.”

Abbisine tuts and turns her back on Killovie, though all six of her mechadendrites track the assassin at all times. 

Another battleship in a different fleet is updated. It is tricky to tell from so far away yet I am certain they’ve lost at least two weapon batteries on their starboard side and their prow lance is wrecked. Soon after, two more Excipio Stations show multiple explosions and plumes of flaming debris and volatile gasses burn even in the void of space. The stations aren’t gone, but that was at least three megatonnes of promethium and oxygen that was scattered beyond recovery.

The hours pass with increasing jubilation as the Hololith updates. Occasionally, people step out for an hour or two for rest and refreshment. I have no such limitations and remain at my post. Conversation is sparse as there is little to comment on other than what is displayed for all of us to read; much of it is speculation until the task force returns with accurate data.

After two days of standing around the Strategium, the operation concludes. All 16 Chaos battleships have been heavily damaged. Three Excipio Stations are wrecked, and the other nine have lost much of their power and many supplies.

Our sabotage against the Chaos Armada is the largest, most dangerous, and most important operation the Stellar Fleet has ever attempted. It’s also the furthest I’ve ever been from the action. I find the experience odd as this time there really is nothing I can do to change the outcome. No mad arse pulls, no sacrificial stunts, no crazy space magic. I can’t even see what is happening in detail. All I can do is hide, hope, and pray.

It’s the closest I’ve ever been to an ordinary Human in 38 thousand years.