Herald of the Stars: Chapter Three Hundred and Nineteen

I am contemplating using Warp and Weft to assist Marius with his spilled drink when my Rapid Decision Engine pings me: Marius is acting. He’s surprised, but spilling his drink was deliberate.

Marius grabs a handful of napkins and furiously rubs his leg, “Drat. Those were made from natural spider’s silk. A rare luxury from one of my Feudal Worlds. Please excuse me, I need to change.”

Marius storms off, his face displaying irritation and pompous outrage. Within, his emotions are also in turmoil, though he is more excited and smug than anything else.

“Lord Calixis did not strike me as one so easily surprised or unsettled,” I say.

Ignato startles out of his own introspection, he squints at me, then sighs, “Lord Calixis is a man who likes to be prepared. Did you know that despite his outward asceticism he keeps dozens of outfits for both sexes in multiple sizes?”

“That does surprise me,” I say

Ignato says, “It is ever so common for the so-called nobility to get up to mischief by ‘accidentally’ spilling drinks, food, and other substances on each other. As a good host, Marius always has something spare for victims to slip into and avoid further embarrassment. 

“Two decades ago a few young idiots noticed the trend and made a game of it, seeing how many outfits they could dress up in a single evening. Their families have withered. The message was received and now those outfits go to waste. The clumsy dare not even show themselves before his face. 

“I think Lord Calixis enjoys having an excuse to use some of his preparations, you need not worry he is overly upset.”

I nod, “How sensible. We do something similar with void suits. The stakes are a little higher there though.”

There’s no way Marius is that simple. No, this is a small ploy for Marius to give himself time to think and let Ignato have a chance to talk to me in private. I would have been fooled were it not for my Rapid Decision Engine. If I was capable of shame I am sure I would be more crimson than a Blood Raven.

Ignato stares at me, his mind busy with multiple ideas, “I give thanks to the Emperor that his tasks keep me with my feet planted planetside.”

“You do not wish to go on a pilgrimage to the local Shrine Worlds?”

“I did that in my youth. I even went to Terra and waited a decade for my chance to enter the Cathedral of the Savior Emperor. Upon my promotion to Cardinal, I received an invitation to the Ecclesiarial Palace and a ticket to the Cathedral of the Emperor Deified. I have not dared to go. The journey is too long and I cannot afford to spend so much time away from my own Cathedral of Illumination.”

“No cold seats allowed, eh?”

“You understand,” nods Ignato. “Let’s put aside your outrageous proposal for a moment. Earlier you mentioned Inquisitor Horthstein’s peace offering and I have accepted that. However, such things are for the silent halls of power to whisper and debate, not the masses. Saint Petrus’ treatment by the Inquisition will get out and thus I wonder if you might be amenable to a small favour, my new friend.”

Those are some nice teeth you have there, Cardinal.

“I am listening,” I say.

Ignato looks at the ongoing trial hovering above the table, “I suppose asking for the execution of Arch-Heretic Aegult Caidin to take place before the eyes of the Emperor at the main altar in the Cathedral of Illumination would be too much to ask?”

“That is possible. I would not recommend it. You would not survive the fallout.”

Ignato jerks his head towards me, “You’re actually serious. You would do this for me if I asked. Remarkable.”

“It is at the limits of my tolerance and capabilities, but that is what you were searching for, no? I am also fond of such plays. You require a distraction or appeasement. Both of these would waste my time and that is far more valuable to me and my family than that of the life of Aegult Caidin and his conclave. His death would take a thirty second conversation. You are asking for more.”

“Noted. I would request that you give a sermon, and ideally lead mass at the Cathedral of Illumination. No more than an hour. So few parishioners comprehend the difference between the Emperor, Omnissiah, and Machine-God, often believing them to be the same deity. I would have your words and image broadcast across Scintilla and promote cooperation between our faiths.”

I hum, “A Tech-Priest preaching in the halls of the Imperial Cult? That would get tongues wagging. It sounds lacking though.”

“Oh, nothing so mundane as that. I have heard you are a great teacher and go to great efforts to bless your people with knowledge. I would have you impart a little to the people of Scintilla. Something flashy. A little chemistry performed on the altar? A grand projection of other worlds? Something kids would enjoy. It would be even better if Saint Alpia aided you. Maybe you could sing a hymn together?”

My eyes widen, “I had no idea you were so bold!”

“The sheer controversy will have people debating the meaning of such a display for centuries,” says Ignato, humour creeping into his voice. “More violence? Everyone would forget the Arch-Heretic in a year, if not less. It would not do to pull the teeth from the Inquisition when I’m finally about to get my own agents within it either.”

I clap my hands together once, then mimic Ignato’s body language, “That does sound entertaining. I’ll have something ready in a month’s time. I will only do this if you let me surprise you. A show of trust to celebrate our new cooperation.”

Ignato stands up, walks over to the balcony and looks down through the clouds at Hive Sibellus. I pour myself some of Marius’ favourite tea, a lavender and camomile analogue, then nibble at the small sandwiches provided. I sip my drink and smile. For an ascetic, Marius has excellent taste.

Ignato turns around and clasps his hands behind his back, “Your terms are acceptable.”

Turning off the projection, I stand, walk over to Ignato, and shake his hand.

“How Human of you,” says Ignato. “That reminds me, I know that it is rude of me to ask this, but is there any way you can hide your mutations? Those snakes are rather unsightly and while I am willing to let a Magos hold a sermon in my Cathedral, openly endorsing a mutant would have me joining you on a pyre by the end of mass.”

“That is incredibly insulting, Ignato. My body was shaped by the Emperor himself when he reached out across the galaxy and made me a Navigator! I was not born like this.”

“Throwing the Emperor’s favour in my face will not impress me. Everyone assumes that we Ministorum are easily distracted by the slighted hint of His presence. Put aside your outrageous claims and be reasonable, Aldrich. This is for both our safety.”

I wave off Ignato, “Oh, I know. I’m not upset. I just couldn’t let that go without a minor chastisement.”

“Understandable,” says Ignato. “You claim the Emperor reforged you himself? I have seen a miracle or two myself and even I find that hard to believe.”

“My daughter is a Saint.”

“Despite my earlier words, I admit that is a valid argument, though far too blunt for my love of debate. I prefer arguments with more quotes.”

I turn away from Ignato and look over the balcony myself. It is a dizzying view and if I could not fly I would not even walk out on the balcony. Really, these Imperials have no sense of self-preservation!

“I can use sorcery to transmute my form,” I say. “You will need to either turn off any arcanotech sensors you have in the Cathedral, or make sure that they are silent. Alpia might set them off by accident as it is. She is rather powerful with her double blessing.”

“I will see it done.”

“You will instruct your people to promote a message of environmentalism?”

“So long as the Ministorum gets their share, perhaps some new flowers for our funerals and celebrations?” says Ignato. “I can make it work, but people need to see the benefits of change to believe in it.”

Given that the Emperor just plucked the Concept of Change from Tzeentch’s feathered breast, Ignato’s statement is no longer the ominous Herald of Doom that it could have been.

“After my sermon I will give you the dataslates you need to instruct your clergy with the requisite knowledge,” I say.

“Good.”

Marius returns, wearing an ocean blue jacket with a kelp green shirt. “There, much better! Magos, you were speaking of restoring Scintilla’s biosphere and granting us a portion of ancient Terra’s grace. I had been wondering how you would get me to agree to your idea rather than run off with it myself. It’s not like your systems are unique among the Mechanicus.”

I laugh, “Oh, you have no idea how wrong, yet also correct you are. Nevertheless, you are right that the DNA libraries I have, and the means to print viable eggs or clone other creatures are my lure. Not unique, just... difficult to find all in one place, even for the Lord Calixis.”

Marius’ step looks up at me, for the first time, I sense a hint of uncertainty from the man as he mouths ‘one place’ to himself. “Your Quest for Knowledge was successful? You have an STC?” Marius clicks his fingers, “That’s why you’re so set on going to the Lathes, even with the Warpstorm and a battle going on.”

Throne, Marius is annoyingly insightful! No wonder he is the Lord Calixis.

“Oh! The biosphere project is a demonstration! You’re after the best price.”

I say, “Please stop, Marius. If you keep speaking all your ideas out loud I might as well turn into a bird and perch on your shoulder, just so I can parrot your words.”

“You can’t actually do that, can you?” says Marius.

“No.”

“One never knows with the Mechanicus. It’s always best to ask. So we’ll be getting premier access to the best Old Earth had to offer, eh? What joyous news.”

“I didn’t say yes, you know?”

“Bah! I am not so easily misled by clumsy deflection. For a prize like this I’ll wrangle the whole planet into action. Never fear! Just send me a few of those charts you no doubt have hanging around. I will need the data to persuade those dynasty obsessed fools that not salting the ground they shit on will bring them gold and glory.”

“Perfect memory is a curse,” I mutter. I return to the table and gulp the exquisite tea like a barbarian, “Do either of you have any other business with me before I depart?”

Marius looks over to Ignato who shakes his head and waves his hand in a dismissive gesture.

“It was a pleasure to see you again, Aldrich,” says Marius.

I walk over to the door, then look back, “I’ll see you both in a month.”

With great relief, and the slight tingling of multiple emotions bubbling up from my husked out soul, I return to Torchbearer. I do not wish to talk to Marius again if I can help it, lest what remains of my plans be babbled back at me with an enthusiasm I have long since lost.

I send a summary of the meeting to Fleet Command, and return to my research.

A month later, I descend to Hive Tarsus for my sermon. Feeling a little petty at having our time spent on mundane appeasement, Alpia and I put on an outrageous display. It starts with showing off different objects, from plants to machines, all from different places around the galaxy, then showing how they’re all made of the same elements, despite their different forms.

We end with us demonstrating what can really be done with the higher mysteries, fixing wing-shaped grav devices to some upsized Vanguard Armour, then dueling in the air above the audience’s heads, flitting from pillar to pillar and firing paint rounds at each other all over the Cathedral.

Neither of us ever miss, so all the paint gets turned into light by our Refraction Shields.

After keeping my word and fulfilling my agreement in the most passive aggressive manner Alpia and I could conceive, the next few months pass without further requests from my new ‘friends’ as Fleet Command readies the Stellar Fleet for departure and Alpia wraps up the mess with the Inquisition. By the time Alpia is done, Raphael is the new High Inquisitor while Aegult Caidin and half his conclave are dead.

I can’t believe so much occurred from a single conversation with Raphael! I will have to think more on what others do with what I tell them, rather than focus on satisfying my own goals, lest I get blindsided by another fiasco that I inevitably need to clean up.

Curse my work ethic!

By the time we are ready to leave, we’ve been at Scintilla so long that Eire has sent new personnel from SR-651 and Footfall, letting Stellar Fleet SOL depart Scintilla without emptying our crews for Scintilla’s projects. With Stellar Fleet MANI in the system, I also take the chance to trade my services for more ships and goods, sending them back with Yonder Moon and its escorts.

As I acquire wealth with such swiftness, bitterness threatens my thoughts. They have so much here in the Imperium. I could have saved myself so much struggle had I arrived much sooner. Yet I also know that turning up without a decent fleet and substantial personal power would not have ended well for me.

Envy is an ugly emotion, and for once, I am glad my mood can barely touch me.