Herald of the Stars: Chapter Two Hundred and Eighty-Three

Ephrine puts down her mug on a small fold-out table and says, “One of my patrols was assaulted in the Hab-Fanes after I performed a miracle. We were hoping to 

track down the child and the mother and offer our protection yet we cannot find them.”

“I am aware of the incident. Footfall’s noosphere is in poor condition, but I will see what I can find.” 

“Your assistance with my needs is most pleasant.”

I set a mind to the task and pull a scroll from a pouch, “While I complete your request, I have an official offer to go over with you.”

Ephrine leans forward in her chair and takes the scroll from my upturned hand.

I continue, “I am delighted by the performance of the Order of the Valorous Heart. That scroll, should you sign it, is a contract that will formalise our current arrangement with defined boundaries.

“The first part of the offer is material support. One hundred sets of Power Armoured Infantry equipment. Four hundred sets for Heavy Infantry, and fifteen hundred sets of Light Infantry equipment every year for the next ten years. Two thousand sets of Herald implants and ten sets of supplementary officer implants each year are also available. Renewal and renegotiation is possible at the end of the contract.”

Ephrine’s smile becomes somewhat unhinged and, for a moment, I question my offer. Then, I set aside my doubt. Zeal has its place and it is important I have the influence to direct it.

“An unprecedented offer. What do you expect from our service?”

“I’ll get to that in a moment. The second part of my offer, the one I consider far more valuable, is citizenship with the Stellar Fleet. Are you aware of what this means?”

Frowning, Ephrine leans back and clasps her hands in her lap. “You offer us a home and an education.”

“Indeed, there is more than that. A small stipend, basic foods, medical care, and accomodation. You’d need that medical care for the implants. I offer salaries for those who work for me. Access to community programs, like religious studies for both children and adults, niche educational needs, higher education, and the mysteries of the Mechanicus.”

“Higher mysteries. Really? That would turn everything the Sororitas are on their head!” 

“Not as much as you think,” I say. “Higher mysteries would require you to join the Mechanicus and would lock you in with the Stellar Fleet permanently. Fully joining up would also give you access to rejuvenat treatments and the rights to recruit from the Stellar Fleet, not just the Penitents. I offer you everything you asked for, earned by your own hands.”

“You offer a noble’s life for all my girls.”

I grimace, “No. I offer you one far superior to what most nobles receive. Now. The price.”

“It’s almost a shame you're a Tech-Priest too,” Ephrine sighs. “At least a Rogue Trader’s needs are as obvious as they are shameless.”

I chuckle, “So long as you remain faithful to the Emperor and the Stellar Fleet, what you do in your free time is none of my business. My offer is similar to the one I gave to the Space Marines. You aren’t getting Stellar Requisition Credits for your service though as you don’t have your own void ship. Stick around long enough and you might capture one though and improve your earnings.”

“A pretty painting you present,” says Ephrine. “Citizenship, payment, and material support is welcome. Joining the Mechanicus is contentious as it would require us to change how we worship the Emperor. I noticed that you did not offer to pay for upkeep of equipment. Unless we join the Mechanicus as well, my sisters’ salaries would go straight back to you. To pay for parts, at the very least.”

“Correct,” I nod. “The reason the Stellar Fleet can manage the tech-burden of so much power armour and advanced weaponry is because every citizen, be they crew, Herald, or civilian, can maintain their own gear and implants. Most can build them as well. I see no reason to change that policy, thus the incentive to join. Such independence is a requirement when Forge Worlds are distant and beset by their own internal and external problems.”

“We do have armourers too, you know,” says Ephrine, sounding amused. “Equipment repairs come from stock parts and no suits are built from scratch. Our armourers are Mechanicus authorised in the Rite of Repair, much like some tank crews, though ours are kept far from the fighting. Our armourers’ service is adequate. I understand the goal and appeal of your offer to join the Mechanicus and I am flattered by the offer. I am not convinced it is necessary. I would rather have a maintenance budget.”

“Chapter Master Lir was content to have Force Commander Odhran turn his strike force into Tech-Marines as a trial. Perhaps a number of volunteers as a similar test would work for you? I do not see the need for religious schism when we all worship the Emperor. I do understand how you might be hesitant to adopt the Machine-God as well. Your reticence is unnecessary though. Saint Alpia has links to both deities and as her guards, following both parts of her faith is preferred.

“That would be our duty? To guard a Saint? You offer us a great honour.” 

“I do. I’m getting ahead of myself somewhat. To expound upon your duties: you would fight as an auxiliary force. Like the Space Marines, Fleet Command will give you missions when they are available, but we won’t tell you how to complete them. If your plans require additional resources from the Stellar Fleet, like access to vehicles, you can requisition them. However, that will mean submitting plans, and accepting further oversight for that one mission. I will not see my resources wasted on ideas that run contradictory to Stellar Fleet policies.”

“What else?”

“Aside from seeing to your own training and building up your forces, you will have two, day to day duties. Your primary duty will be policing the Penitents and the Merchant Navy vessels that have tacked themselves onto my fleet. Yes, I know you already do this. The difference is that you now get paid in more than ration bars, rags, and unscented soap. You are to watch for corruption, both mystical and mundane, then deal with it.”

“That is agreeable.”

“Your secondary duty will be to act as Saint Alpia’s personal forces, working with the Psy-Erants and her Close Protection Company to protect and advise her. This includes learning beside her in her endless simulations, forming social and command structures of your own. 

“My daughter has no shortage of personal power or protection, neither does she need me to assign her friends. You are, however, there to gatekeep who can see her, and who cannot. Alpia is wilful, so this won’t always be possible. As such, if it comes down to a fight, I expect your order to die to the last woman before Alpia does. If you have a problem with that, don’t sign the document, we will continue as before. Either way, I am going to pretend I never had this conversation with you and, if Alpia asks, deny everything.”

Crossing her arms, Ephrine says, “You are paying us to do things that, as Sororitas, you assume we would want to do anyway. A trade we all benefit from, based on stereotypes.”

I did not expect Ephrine to be so blunt or self aware! Rather foolish of me in hindsight. Ephrine’s stated goal is to deal with the reckless behavior in her own order.

“Hearsay and observation are all I have to go on,” I say. “We do not know each other well just yet. Maybe one day we will be friends, as well as allies. Time and battle builds trust. For that to happen, the Order of the Valorous Heart needs closer ties with the Stellar Fleet.”

Ephrine says, “Sororitas are not mercenaries. We are the militant arm of the Emperor’s faith. We exist to purge corruption yet what corruption is there to find around an Imperial Saint when her presence alone fills the Warp with the Emperor’s golden light?”

What happened to the great honour of guarding a saint? At this point, it just feels like Ephrine is stalling, or looking for something to nitpick at to recover some control of the negotiations.

“Neither are the Space Marines. Prevention is better than cure, Canoness Ephrine and vigilance the bane of the Great Enemy. There is purpose for you here. Duty. Faith. Service. A chance to build your order up in the way you always dreamed. What better way than to cleanse original sin than through service to Saint Alpia?”

“Magos, must you tempt me with the sin of Pride?”

“Is it working?”

“Yes, dammit! You really are a Rogue Trader huh? Wielding your wealth like a Thunder Hammer.”

I tap the handle of the warhammer, hanging from my belt, “It’s my personal weapon.”

“How on Terra your wife and kids survive your sense of humour is beyond me. Fine. I will sign. I’ll even get you two squads, that’s twenty-four volunteers, for Mechanicus indoctrination. However, I want you to add Cybercats and Grapplehawks to the list of provided equipment. If we’re going to be noble ladies, we should at least look the part! I also want you to provide our own vehicles, shuttles and strike craft. None of this submit plans for oversight nonsense. Your daughter needs something fancy, does she not?”

I laugh, “You can have the animals. One per squad, same as the Heralds. If you want more, that’s on you. A few vehicles and warwalkers, like vanguard armour, would be possible. Enough warwalkers for one strike team of six per thousand sisters and space for up to seventy Chimera. That’s enough transport capacity for up to one thousand sisters, depending on their loadout. 

“I will not build you Penitent Engines. Those machines are an abomination of function and design. Don’t bother arguing about it. I don’t have the STC for them and have no desire to attempt creating one. Sororitas Rhinos are too small and I don’t care for them either.

“Shuttles and strike-craft are impossible. Our hangars are full, or they will be once we rebuild our losses. I didn’t leave space for extras when reorganising Stellar Corps and Aeronautica at SR-651. Alpia is free to use my personal shuttle whenever she wishes. If you are guarding her, you can do the same, so long as I’m not using it. 

“In exchange for these additional stipulations, I will require you to accept one liaison per thousand Sororitas. You must also provide choirs, and altar servers, for the Stellar Fleet’s Auto-Temples. Teaching staff for community services and adoptive parents for our vat-grown children will also be needed.”

Ephrine huffs, “That’s just another way of forcing us to integrate while providing us another avenue of influence that goes both ways. You want to speed up an assimilation you see as necessary and inevitable. I know our value. Like the Astartes, you want us for the prestige and legitimacy we offer and the propaganda and controlled access our alliance would provide you with over our parent faction. Why?”

“I already told you. I don’t want Alipa getting pulled all over the place by endless competing requests. I may trust her to keep her head above the nonsense that infests all institutions, but she has enough on her plate as it is with her status as my heir. I see no reason to subject her to unnecessary pain and stress. Let her take on what she wants, not what others pressure her into doing. 

“Your comment about looking the part was accurate too. An Imperial and Mechanicus Saint cannot be seen without an army of Sororitas and Skitarii equivalents. Quite frankly, if I had a Titan Legion available, or a proper Knight House, I would have to give her those as well. Instead I have my half-baked Psy-Errants. They are talented, but they don’t even have Armigers any more! 

“I’d rather ally myself with a splinter of the Valorous Heart, people who have proved themselves to me and have a vested interest in Alpia’s wellbeing. I am unwilling to provide an opening for a Ministorum faction, one that potentially has an agenda that benefits neither myself, Alpia, or the Stellar Fleet. Yes, there will be no shortage of attempts. There is no reason to leave doors unlocked and the gates unbarred, however.”

“Hence the citizenship requirement and your heavy push for integration,” says Ephrine. “Thank you for the clarification. One should not assume they understand another’s mind with such a high stakes deal.”

“A reasonable precaution.”

Ephrine says, “I am still not convinced you cannot provide us with shuttles and strike-craft. There is room on the Jericho and the Vagabonds, is there not? Sure, they’re not your ships, but they have been contracted to follow you and we are providing security on them. They can carry our vehicles, even if you, supposedly, cannot.”

“Once you have enough people learned enough to maintain them, we will revisit the issue,” I say. “That will be at least five years. On second thoughts, let’s apply that shuttle stipulation to the land vehicles and warwalkers as well.”

“Oh come on! You’re not supposed to go backwards in a negotiation!”

“Then your sisters had best learn quickly and you need to stop pushing for more. I am not an endless font of toys and wealth. There is no point giving you stuff you cannot use or maintain! As it is, your armourers will have to learn a whole new set of skills for the Rogue Pattern Power Armour the Stellar Fleet builds. The same goes for our MOA carapace, luminen tech, and other equipment. It’s nothing like the Sabbat Pattern Power Armour they’re used to.”

“Now you’re just forcing the issue.”

I ignore Ephrine’s comment and hold out a pen. As she eyes the pen with suspicion, one of my snakes rapidly transcribes my amendments to the bottom of the document in the space I’d deliberately left blank for negotiations.

“This pen will take a genetic sample and add it to the document,” I say. “You will need to remove your gauntlet.”

“You expect me to sign in blood?”

“I will be doing the same and I have far less to spare than you.”

Ephrine snatches the pen, then picks up the document and spends a whole thirty minutes repeatedly re-reading the document. Then she hands it off to the Sisters in the room to read as well.

I wait, content to let Ephrine work through whatever hang ups she has and do her due diligence. Surprise fills her thoughts when I do not object to her passing the document around or to my time she is wasting and I sense her relax a bit.

The mind I tasked with the noosphere search forwards its findings to me.

“I have an answer to the location of the woman and child you seek,” I say.

Ephrine settles in her chair, takes off her gauntlet, and twirls the pen around her fingers. She studies my face for a moment as she keeps her own expression neutral.

“What have you found?”