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

I lie within the Navigator Spire’s private surgical suite. Alpia and Brigid watch over me, trying to look calm and mostly succeeding.

“Dad, are you ready?”

“Yes. E-SIM’s automated systems have already accepted my understanding of Hyper Intelligence along with all the data we have collected. It felt rather strange to submit homework again after so long!”

Brigid kisses me, “If you wake up as another person, I will be hitting that purge button myself.”

I tap my head, then my chest, “Good job I have two brains then.”

“They’re called Brigid and Alpia,” Alpia tuts. “Emperor knows you don’t use yours.”

I say, “Thank you for the generous evaluation, Sweat Pea.”

“So you just accept the change, sleep, and wake up a new person?” says Alpia, ignoring my comment.

“That’s how it’s been for everything else. I’ll have my systems linked to the surgery suite and you can come here to read them whenever you like.”

Alpia says, “OK. I’m ready. See you in a day or so.”

I smile at Alpia’s silliness, “Love you too, Sweat Pea, Brigid.”

From one blink to the next my consciousness shifts from my body to my soul.

“This is new,” I mutter. The last time I underwent a major upgrade, the comprehensive Full Body Conversion, which is a fancy way of me grouping every single cybernetic and bionic upgrade that I have into one package, I was out cold for a week. I did not end up aware inside my soul.

After running through likely scenarios I decide that my awareness is either tied to the destruction of the Soul Stones in my Warp Tap or the massive increase in size and density of my soul, ensuring continuous awareness, even when my body is, to some degree, dead.

My soul is still a desolate wasteland of scrub and sporadic grasses as I haven’t found any more possessed artefacts to consume.

Peering out into the Warp, my mind is seared by the teeming masses of Slaaneshi Daemons infecting the system. After observing them for an unknown length of time I realise that they are constantly trying to cross over into Sentanim, only to get immediately sent right back, looking horribly sunburned.

The Daemons are making a game of it, baiting each other into breaching the Materium. They test different spells, bodies, and outfits, looking for a way to manifest that doesn’t get them sent right back.

Any Daemon who ends up too weak after their attempt is torn apart and cannibalised.

A rare few make it through as they slip inside the body of some poor bugger, hollowing out their flesh and soul and turning them into a puppet. More often than not, those get sent back quickly as well. Upon their return their bodies, grotesque parodies of beauty, are often riddled with smoking wounds.

Occasionally, the Daemonettes and other horrors glance towards me, looking for something they can’t quite see. None dare investigate though, warned off by the constant whispers of Slaanesh herself, flowing through Sentanim like over-sprayed rose perfume and stale sweat.

Rather than do absolutely nothing for who knows how long, I gather my will and create a small portal, taking a peak at E-SIM.

The silver rift and ruins of the Research Grade STC are nowhere to be seen and all the holes in E-SIM’s hull from the Emperor’s chains have been patched. I am still aware of my systems and I use them to send a request to visit. I receive a positive reply.

Closing the portal, I open a new one inside one of E-SIM’s massive hangars and step through onto his deck.

Within the hangar is one of the many void ships that we sent through the rift. I’m standing far too close to get a full view. Another query gets me a visual of the whole hangar.

The vessel is a partial section of a rare and unsuccessful design of void ship, the Cardinal Class heavy cruiser. The Cardinal Class, it is rumoured, was used as a platform to create the prototype Acheron Class. 

Using lances and other weapon batteries derived from an unknown xenos warship from Sector 51, which isn’t on any of my maps, the Acheron was a test platform that swiftly fell to Chaos. 

Only one Acheron was built. After the failure of the Acheron, the Imperial Navy, being their usual superstitious selves, stopped using the Cardinal as well. I am not surprised that one was sold off to feuding Rogue Traders. If anything, two brothers killing each other over inheritance using a ‘cursed’ vessel just reinforces the belief that some designs bring bad luck.

The Cardinal has had its hull and electronics stripped away. Almost everything left is plasteel and adamantium. Huge stacks of deck and wall plates fill the hangar. No Servitors or other construction Automata are working on the wreck.

Seeing nothing of interest, I fly through the hangar at high speed and deeper into the ship. There are tens of thousands of rooms filled with machinery that resemble familiar structures: Void Shields, weapon batteries, Manufactorum and more. Almost all are silent with few Servitors in attendance. I don’t have the clearance to visit the Data Looms and primary cogitator. A shame, but not unexpected.

Enlightened Self-Interest has its own sense of grandeur. Rather than endless Imperial Gothic with its unhealthy fascination with death, glory, obsidian, and gold, the late era Federation vessel is more minimalist and monumental. Colours are a mix of white, steel blue, and soft yellow. 

The decoration is subtle. Like the Necrontyr, it relies on sharp lines and immense size to induce awe in the viewer. Rather than pyramids and triangles, corners are rounded. Repeating patterns based on Machine-Spirit code and fractal designs are common decorations engraved into the walls.

It is elegant, easy to clean, hard to injure oneself on, and dare I say it, a little boring. I have become accustomed to the edgy and arrogant decor of the Imperium, and though many often take it too far, the labour and detail that goes into Imperial architecture has an element of faith, effort, even Humanity in it that E-SIM’s cold and perfect halls lack.

Wandering the Enlightened Self-Interest I come across a damaged section. A hole has been ripped through multiple decks and sub-decks and repair work has stalled. Everything glitters with residual golden energies of the Emperor. Some of the damaged Data Structure has been cut away, leaving piles of gleaming wreckage. 

A single Automata labours on the deck, struggling to remove the damage as anything near the residual power of the Emperor is able to resist its Power Blade. Equally, cutting from further away would just cause greater amounts of damage to a vessel that is already struggling with resources to repair itself. Neither option is efficient.

I pick up a chunk of gleaming junk and attempt to remove the Emperor’s power. Absorbing it isn’t too challenging. At first, holding onto the golden energies causes little trouble. As I acquire more, I feel energised, then over caffeinated, and finally it starts to burn.

I don’t want to send this back directly to the Emperor as he might use the opportunity to latch back onto E-SIM. Travelling back to my body and releasing it would be like setting off a flare in the Warp. Fortunately my recklessness is not beyond salvation as I am able to slowly dissipate the energy through my soul bond with Alpia, who has absolutely no trouble using or hiding the energy. I also send a small amount to my other bound psykers.

Alpia is confused at first, then pleased that I am still aware. We chat a little as I syphon the Emperor’s dense power from Enlightened Self-Interest, removing a tenth of it from this one damaged section before Alpia reaches a comfortable limit.

Having seen all that I want to see, I return to the hangar, open a portal, and return to my body.

Until it is time to wake up, I spend the remainder of my time performing the exercises that the Emperor gave me, concentrating my soul by a minute amount. I haven’t gotten that far with this skill as most of my effort towards it was spent learning it, then modifying it to make the armour for Brigid and Alpia. 

Time spent on esoteric skills is not one that I can cheat time with. I only have one soul and can’t stick multiple minds on the task or accelerate my perception of time with my implants as they affect my brain, not my soul.

After an indeterminate length of time, my awareness snaps back to my body without warning and I wake up.

My awareness blooms and I am immediately aware of two new functions. First, I now see the Materium and Immaterium at all times, simultaneously, without having to focus on my third eye. 

Second, the Materium has taken on a dream-like quality. There is an underlying instinct that all I see are waves, moving through a vacuum. Reality feels fragile and seeing so much at once requires two minds to process. 

Without my Warp Tap, or hours spent charging my batteries through meditation, that leaves me with just one remaining to interact with my strange new world.

Alpia and Brigid are still by my side, each of them holding one of my hands. Their presence grounds me and being able to see their souls reinforces what is real, and what is not.

“I’m glad you are both here,” I say.

“Husband, how do you feel?”

“Quite odd.”

“Elaborate,” says Brigid.

I explain my new senses and their drawbacks.

Alpia looks like she’s been enlightened, “So that’s why every single test subject became a megalomaniac. If nothing feels real, of course you’d think you can do whatever the hell you like, or dominate the world with your personality alone.”

Brigid says, “Is your original brain working as an override as intended?”

“There are no intrusive thoughts,” I say. “As a Navigator, my soul is also stabilizing my personality, I believe. Mind over matter, as it were. We do not have the spare Navigators to test this, however.  My nanite backup has not triggered either, so any further faults were expected or undiscovered by the designers of the upgrade.”

“Good. That is most pleasing to hear,” says Brigid.

“Dad, are you up for testing if you can understand the Warp Tap now?”

“I will try. It won’t be able to talk to you while I do.”

“Obviously,” says Alpia with her usual arrogant cheek.

I would really like a bit more respect from my daughter and wife. Unfortunately, the legs I have to stand on with that argument are pinned down by multiple poor decisions and my arms are held up by Brigid and Alpia’s faithful support. 

Building a new Warp Tap cannot come soon enough.

Closing my eyes, I accelerate my thoughts to the maximum value and read over the introductory instructions. They are overwhelmingly complex, touching on Necrontyr Tesseract technology, Aeldari soul stones, Human sorcery, and the intricate mathematics of Abominable Intelligence.

The Warp Tap is, without doubt, the most heretical technology I have ever read, combining multiple xenos technology, forbidden sorcery, and the raw knowledge of machines whose last act was an attempt to destroy all sapient life in the galaxy.

I finally understand why Alpia did not want to attempt this by herself and why she said it had to be built in the Warp on Enlightened Self-Interest. That was a partial lie as one could, technically, build this in the Materium. Testing each part in real space would be a horrible idea, however. Even the smallest of faults would cause implosions and scar reality. The Immaterium is more forgiving.

That Tzeentch managed to destroy my Warp Tap without me dying was an Emperor given miracle, one that makes me feel like an absolute tool for being so ungrateful about.

On the plus side, this arcanotech is, at last, comprehensible. My new way of looking at the world helps me visualise the dimensions I was missing from my understanding of the Materium. What was once theoretical is now something that, with a little focus, I can actually see.

“Dad! Your third eye is bleeding! Whatever you are doing, stop!”

I dab my forehead, “So I am. No peering at other dimensions, apparently. They were empty anyway.”

Alas, there will be no improbable crossovers and I cannot summon expies from other dimensions to solve all my problems for me.

“So?” says Brigid.

I sit up, then slip off the surgical bed and stand, “Thank you, both of you. I could not have done this without you. I can understand the dimensions and mathematics of Warp Tap technology.”

Brigid slumps, her tension bleeding out of her, “Praise the Machine-God for his mercy. Will you start working on this immediately?”

I know a verbal trap when I hear it, “Would you like me to?”

Brigid does not look impressed, then she sighs. “Fine. Let us celebrate a little before the next crisis sweeps us away.”

“I was hoping you’d say that, Mum.”

I reach over the surgery table and grab Brigid’s hand, then kiss it, “As you wish, Love.”

Brigid snatches her hand back, then looks away, a small smile on her lips.

“You are absolutely hopeless, Mum.”

I look up at Alpia, a mild rebuke forming in my mind. Instead, I frown and say, “Have you grown a centimetre?”

“Yeah, I’ve been glowing like a lighthouse for hours. There’s loads of chatter through the fleet about you creating another miracle as well. Not sure where you got all that juice from, but it made me a bit bigger and stronger. Maybe I should audition to be a Warboss? The Psy-Errants are reporting that their warding electoos now glow gold, rather than blue, and they have a greater capacity to channel the Warp before feeling strain.” 

At least something good came out of my unscheduled adventure. Maybe I should see if I can boost my Navigators as well as the Psykers. “There’s more, when you feel ready for it.”

Alpia shrugs, “Eh, I’m already awesome.”

“There is a Daemon Prince in the system,” says Brigid. “No slacking off.”

Alpia opens her mouth, then shuts it and nods. Her shoulders slump a little. “Fine. I will be boring and sensible. I won’t be the one remaking my armour though. That’s Dad’s job.”

I say, “So long as you do more than stand around getting measured and actually help me, I don’t mind reforging your armour.”

“Aww, but I like gifts!”

“That’s enough, Daughter,” says Brigid.

Alpia huffs, but does not argue further.

“Will we be giving Hyper Intelligence to anyone else?” says Brigid.

“Mum, even JK-404 won’t touch it. It just makes you dumber, faster, as she put it. JK-404 is really salty about the test results. That’s not to say we learned nothing, but it’s still a decade of research that only Dad will fully benefit from.”

Brigid says, her tone triumphant, “I’m fine with that.”

Alpia giggles, “Do you want candles on your cake as well, Mum? Maybe the tears of your imaginary rivals mixed with the frosting?”

“Baking is an approved family activity. That is an excellent idea, Daughter.”

“Then let's go bake a cake,” I say.

“And eat it,” says Brigid, “tears and all.”