Tech-Atheist (WH30K/Celestial Forge v3 SI)

Welcome. I thought I'd throw my hat into the ring of CF fanfiction.

This fic runs on the Pen Mechanic (don't remember what it's called) - basically, every 1000 words gives me 100 extra points. I roll for perks after every chapter and take whatever I get if I can afford it. I also started with 1000 points. I will eventually post a table/list of current perks.

There's also going to be some time before I "ramp up", so to speak. I don't think it's very realistic to be mass-producing titans after the first chapter or even arc.

I appreciate all comments and criticism! I can't improve without it!

If you want to know all the perks the character has, you can find them and a description below (fully possible my copy of the documents is old, I downloaded it last year when I began writing this).

I took several deep breaths and stepped towards the seated group of six men, drawing their attention and silencing their quiet conversation as I stopped a meter from their table.

The men were all average height and had dark brown hair. Their skin was white and none of them were free of scars or other signs of mundane aging and imperfections. Their chests were covered by white shirts with blue vests over them, while their pants were a similar white color. Their boots were black and made of some shiny material. At their waists were swords and pistols, which I didn't doubt they knew how to use. They all regarded me, until the unique man with a blue coat over his shoulders prompted me. "Yes? What do you want, tech-priest?"

"I have been informed by some friends of your technological woes. Specifically, you need someone to repair your astropathic relay, but you've been in line for months with no word." At their silence, I awkwardly continued. "W-well, I just wished to offer my own service in fixing it."

The captain regarded me with a blank expression.

I couldn't blame him. If you were an officer in His Imperial Navy, trying to serve even as your ship sat idle due to needing critical repairs, you still would not trust a random red-robed man telling you he could help you. Unsolicited help was suspicious to its core in the aftermath of a galaxy-shaking war.

"I'm sorry, who exactly are you?" The captain's voice was deep and slightly gravely.

Shit, shit, come up with a name…" Magos Acerak, at your service."

At that moment, a waiter approached the table by side-stepping me. In his hands were two bottles of wine, both of which he placed down and removed the cork from. "Our apologies for the wait, gentlemen."

The captain just waved him off. "So, Magos Acerak. You say you can fix our astropathic relay? I don't believe you."

"…I-I see. May I at least ask why?"

"Two reasons. Firstly, I have been asking every damned tech-priest and magos I can about how I can get my ship repaired. All of them have either told me to find someone else or disregarded my messages. They tell me that every available magos who can do that work is busy for the next decade at the least. Now some random Martian appears after several months and says he can do it? It sounds absurd."

"I had no way of reaching you until now, however."

"Or you're a thief looking to loot my ship of any technology you like. I can't be sure either way, now can I?" It was obvious he wasn't looking for an answer.

"And the other reason, captain?" I asked.

"You interrupted our lunch. My first lieutenant here is getting married and we are here to celebrate privately. It doesn't make me happy, you get my point?" He gestured to the man furthest on the left, who looked young and otherwise plain barring the massive gash on his right cheek.

Pushing this would go nowhere, I reasoned. "I'm sorry. Please forgive my intrusion and enjoy your feast."

As I turned away, I heard the first lieutenant chime in. "Hold on, Magos. Captain, it couldn't hurt to at least let the man try."

The captain's response was a loud burp, caused by the entire glass of wine he had just gulped down. The man took a deep breath. "Always the reasonable one, Ramirez. Fine, but this is on your head."

"Yes, sir." Turning back to me, he said, "Magos, do you have any way we can contact you?"

"None, unfortunately. I will wait outside until you are finished."

"Actually, I'd suggest you make your way to Agamartha Void Port. That is where we will depart from when we are finished."

++++

This was a big fucking mistake. It was nearly an hour before I even saw the damn port, and I was walking thrice as fast I would have normally.

Speaking of big, this port. It covered a vast area and towered high into the sky, The main structure was a cylindrical building that looked as if the only damage it had taken in the recent war was further rust. It's original color had long-since faded away, leaving a dull grey-white to adorn the walls. I could make out a crack along the side, and just to top it off, it was slightly tilted for some reason. Was the ground unstable? I would not want to be in here if and when it finally collapsed.

On each level of this giant building were landing pads, four in total. From the ground, it was impossible to make out if any particular pad was occupied, the only indicator being the sound of jets activating and a boxy contraption roaring into the air as it burned promethium.

There was no line for entering at the bottom. If you were flying from here, you were rich or important enough to be able to do that, which put you in a very select category.

I heard a car – yes, a genuine fuel-burning limousine – slow down as it approached me. Turning around, I saw the window open and recognized Ramirez's face sticking out. "Magos!" he yelled out, "wait for us near the entrance!"

Not waiting for my response, they drove off. 15 minutes later, the group approached me as I stood off to the side of the glass doors. I joined up with them and entered the building as the security guards held the doors open.

The inside resembled a corporate office lobby, with marble flooring and soft light that bathed the two men and one woman working as receptionists. The captain barked some words at them, and they nodded for us to use their elevators.

It became awkward in the cramped space quickly as I realized how slowly this thing would bring us to the 56th floor. Roughly 10 seconds per floor, meaning we were trapped here for 560 seconds. They didn't say anything and neither did I.

When the doors finally opened, we headed to the left and stepped into the open environment. The wind blew strongly up here, changing direction every few moments as it flapped my robes around.

I didn't recognize the large plane in front of me, but it looked old and worn down. Not broken, just…matured. The bottom opened to let us climb inside, letting me see the spartan insides once I was fully aboard. Two pilots of indiscriminate form sat in the front, while seats lined the sides. I took an available one and strapped in like one of the men did.

The plane suddenly shook and we hovered as the winds buffeted us. Something rotated along the rear of the jet, and I felt it slowly spin. Then, it pushed forward hard and rocked us back and forth.

To their credit, the officers didn't react. They must have done it enough to not care. Me? I was just grateful I hadn't eaten anything yet to throw up, because this amount of rocking was not good for any kind of stomach.

After a few minutes, it smoothed out. We must have cleared the atmosphere.

++++

I exited the craft last, but before the pilots, once we landed and the ramp descended.

The inside of this hangar was vast to my inexperienced self. The only reference I had for a hangar was ones I had seen on Earth roughly 28,000 years ago. This was as large as an entire office building, though it would have been on the small side.

The walls were bare metal for the most part, but a few banners extolling the might of the Imperium and the Emperor. Large aircraft were lined up with only a meter or two between them, angled at 45 degrees to make launching them easier. On one side were brown four-turbine planes, each with two powerful-looking cannons directly underneath where the pilot would sit. The other side had grey two-turbine planes, but they had four cannons in comparison.

People wearing overalls were walking around inspecting the planes, some dragging hoses behind them. They noticed us but didn't react beyond saluting from where they stood.

"Are the crew not required to recognize more their captain, uh, formally?" I asked one of the officers I hadn't gotten a name for yet.

"Captain Abraxis does not want his crew to waste their time with such a thing. As long as they acknowledge his mastership over them, he's fine with their actions," the man explained. His voice was surprisingly high-pitched, almost feminine but missing some key component I could not identify.

"Ramirez, take care of the magos!" Abraxis suddenly barked.

"Yes, Captain. Magos Acerak, follow me please."

++++

Something that I had never thought about was how people were supposed to travel inside a ship this big. My only image of moving inside a spacecraft was seeing astronauts back in my own time float and push their way through.

When gravity existed and a ship could be massive with winding internal paths, what did one do? Use a car, apparently.

It wasn't anything like the cars I was familiar with, this thing looked like a slab of iron had come alive and grown wheels. It had no exhaust pipe, so I presumed it ran on electricity. The insides were uncomfortable, with hard-plastic seats and no seat-belts. A divider existed between the 10 possible passengers and driver.

Ramirez and I weren't alone in here. Two soldier-types, each wearing red uniforms akin to British Redcoat designs and carrying bulky pistols on their hips, sat towards the rear. As we climbed in, they saluted from their position. "Sir!"

"At ease," Ramirez responded. He banged on the divider once I closed the door, and we were off. "This is Magos Acerak, who has graciously offered his expertise in tending to our ship. You two will accompany him and ensure that if he needs something, his requests are passed on to me. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

Turning to me, he said, "I apologize, Magos, but I cannot stay with you all the time you are here. But these gentlemen will ensure you are attended at all times."

Left unsaid was that they would report anything suspicious I did as well. Not that I would, but these people weren't idiots. Letting random people mess with you ship was unacceptable. "Understood. Do you foresee any permission issues I may run into? I would hate to start a fight with an astropath who does not want me there…"

He thought about it. "I do not believe so, but they will ensure I am informed of any such disputes," he answered, jerking his head at the two guards.

++++

I had been to an Olympic swimming pool a few times in my life. The size was magnificent, allowing nearly 20 men to swim furiously next to each other and not collide at all.

The room I found myself in now was not as large as that swimming pool.

No, it was as large as the room that housed said pool.

Now, I had what felt like an encyclopedic knowledge of how these things worked jammed into me less than 24 hours ago. I knew the scale these were typically built. But there was a massive difference between knowing and experiencing first-hand.

I couldn't help but stare slack-jawed at this giant construction of which I could only make out the giant base. That base ran through the middle of the room and extended far above, easily 400 meters beyond our heads.

"Magos?" Ramirez asked.

"Oh, sorry, just…looking."

"Quite. Anyways, I will leave you to your task. You may ask these men for whatever you need, and I will try to reasonably accommodate you."

"Actually, I do have one thing in mind. Well, three actually. Firstly, I need a way of getting up inside the structure itself. Secondly, a set of enginseer's tools. Thirdly, I'd like any reports that were made about the relay's performance or any issues."

"I'll get you those, then. You can expect them in 20 minutes."

With that, the first lieutenant walked out of the room, leaving me with the two minders…who were already leaning against the wall and talking quietly amongst themselves.

I decided to start doing some preliminary work based on whatever I could see, but that wasn't much. The inside was entirely dark and that was where most, if not all, of the problems would be. The part of the exterior I could see seemed fine, but it was just a set of four thick adamantium walls.

Roughly 20 minutes later, Ramirez's gifts showed up in the form of a manned anti-gravity platform with an area the size of a bedroom while being about a meter tall. An old chocolate-skinned woman in a long, gray, and patchy skirt stood next to the control panel, her hands holding the short sticks that moved the platform.

On top of the platform was a red duffel bag. I stepped up while avoiding the safety railing and looked inside, digging my hands through the various tools inside. But along with those was a small iPad-looking tablet. Turning it on, I was shocked to see a very familiar logo that consisted of a stylized apple with a similarly stylized bite taken out.

iOS had survived this long, who knew?

There was only one app, one for reading documents. I didn't go into them immediately, that could come later.

I turned to the woman. "Can you bring this up so I can open the service doors there?" I pointed towards where the walls of the relay approached the ceiling. A large sliding door was our entry into the relay itself. Next to it was a button that would open it.

"Aye, sir."

Just before we took off, the two guards jumped on. They leaned against the railing itself for support as the platform jerked upwards before moving slowly up to the entrance. Once I pressed the button, the door slowly moved to the side.

The inside of this structure was mostly hollow, and the only thing I had to light up the dark was a pair of floodlights with short tripod legs attached. I angled them to avoid blinding anyone. "Bring me closer to that wall."

As it came into touching distance, I ran my hand along the vertically laid wires that were stretched taut across most of the wall. There were easily 40 of them, but this was clearly a patch-job. You wouldn't do this conventionally. Looking up and squinting showed me what looked like a set of wire-splitters that turned 10 wires into the collection before me.

I had a feeling I knew one major issue immediately here, but to confirm, I decided to check the tablet.

Sure enough, the latest complaint confirmed what I thought.

astropath says power not coming on through relay, need tech-priests to confirm and solve

It read like a scribble taken during a meeting as an afterthought, but the cause was indeed related to the infrastructure.

I gestured to the woman. "Take us up slowly, please."

++++

Two hours later, I was in touch with Ramirez via the communicator the guards had. They were resistant at first to give it to me, but my explanation for them to pass on quickly overcame that.

"Magos, what do you want?" I heard his crackly voice.

"I've completed my analysis of your relay and determined its primary problem."

"Which is?"

"Simple overloading problem. There are various places along the wiring that use substandard wires. While this is fine if nothing is going wrong, it breaks down very quickly otherwise. I suspect whoever made those repairs did not have the material available. That, or they didn't know what they were doing."

"…So, you just need to replace the wires and it will work?"

"Yes, that would make it theoretically functional. If there are additional problems, we will know once we turn it on."

"And what about the wires themselves? Where do we get those?"

I tilt my head. "The Mechanicus would be a guarantee, but I have no way to tell you when you might get them. The other option would be checking your own vessel's stores for these materials. There is a place where the tech-priests kept their stock, yes?"

"There is such a place. Hand the radio back to the men, please."

I did so. What Ramirez said to them wasn't audible to me.

The man nodded and put his radio back on his hip. "Magos, come with us, please. The First Lieutenant has ordered us to take you to the tech-priest lodgings."

++++

The first indication that something was off was the fact that the door to the lodgings was literally removed with what looked like explosive force and then propped up against the wall.

"Why…" I started, waving my hand at it.

"No idea, Magos. I think it must have been locked and the captain tried to get inside," Ramirez explained. He'd been waiting for us when we arrived.

Right. It would have been thoroughly locked to ensure no one interfered. "I take it you don't have any tech-priests who could have opened the lock?"

"We don't have any tech-priests or magi in general. Our small complement was snapped up and ordered to report to Mars once the siege ended."

We stepped through the opening, and I took in my first view.

It was…messy.

The layout of the room was one of communal construction but private rooms. What we stood in was a very long, rectangular space with a tall ceiling. Along the walls were racks with countless shelves that reached up to the top and extended the nearly the entire length of the room. Near each one was a ladder the types of which I had only seen in libraries, capable of rolling on the ground while locked in against a rail that ran on the ceiling itself. Closer to the bottom, three lines of work benches extended the same length. Each bench was a few meters long, with waking space for two people at a time to pass by between them. The rest of the room was lit a bit dimly in my opinion. Enough to see, but not enough to hide the central attraction of the Mechanicus symbol. A massive metal disc adorned the far wall, holding the image of a half-skull, half-robotic face surrounded by a cog, lit by powerful spotlights even now. I could only guess how large it was if it was that clear from this distance.

The benches themselves were covered with torch cutters, spools of wire, wrenches, pliers, and the occasional breadboard. The shelves were filled with all the same materials and more. Presumably, one would take what was needed and stand at a bench to do their work. Everything needed for repairs was kept here, provided it could be carried by hand. Anything too large would need the tech-priest to go where needed instead.

"Well, Magos? Do you see what you need?"

"I have no idea how long it may take to find what I need. Hopefully, this is organized so that we don't need to search everywhere. I'll check it all regardless."

"I'll leave you to it, then. I will not be available at all for the next…four hours, I think. We have important meetings occurring."

"I understand."

As he left, I turned to the two guards. "Hey, can you two help me? It would make it faster."

They looked at each other before one of them nodded. "What do we need to do?"

"You remember those thick wires we saw inside the relay? The ones that were twice the size of your fists?"

"Yes."

"We need to find those. Start looking through these walls and see if you find any. If you think you have, call me over and I'll check."

Even with three people, this was no easy task. I suspected that the magi and tech-priests had some internally maintained map of where all the parts and materials were, but they never shared it outside themselves. Why would they? It didn't really concern the ship's command staff since they had no one else who could repair the ship, and the secretive nature of the Mechanicus when it came to speaking with outsiders tended towards being territorial over any and all knowledge they might have.

There were parts for everything, and while I couldn't recall all of it, I made note of some possibly useful materials and tools for the future. The minutes turned to hours as I walked up and down the ladders countless times. There were some false promises, but I didn't blame the two helpers I had. They weren't able to differentiate various cables that seemed like what I needed.

But at last, easily two hours of searching later, I found the cables I needed. Tucked away in a storeroom was a gigantic spool of wire, easily the size two Astartes standing side by side with another of their kind standing on their shoulders.

"Will that be enough wire?" One of them asked.

"I hope so. It seems to be enough, but if not, I'll have to improvise like the previous technician and inform the first lieutenant about that," I answered.

"Cool. Also, it's nearing dinner time, so we're being relieved. There should be two more guards to help you soon, Magos."

Just then, my stomach gurgled. Loudly.

"…Can I join you for dinner?" I asked sheepishly.

++++

After dinner, I returned to work with another pair of guards. My focus was on keeping all the thick wiring I had taken from falling off the anti-grav platform as we floated inside the relay. It had barely fit, leaving the feet of my three new minders (even the platform operator had been replaced at some point) covered with the heavy material.

They didn't complain much, thankfully, leaving me to focus on my task.

First, I removed the many-to-1 connector, leaving those thinner wires to dangle while I connected the thicker ones.

Second, I detached the thin wires at the top of the patch and let them fall to the ground while I connected the thicker ones.

I had believed the hardest part would be holding the new wires in place while I connected them to the existing ones, but I seemed to have gained a steady hand recently as well. Instead, the real hard part was the scale of the task.

There was no regularity to where the patches existed. Sometimes we went 10 minutes without hitting one, other times we were stuck in nearly the same spot for an hour as I went about slowly measuring, cutting, and connecting upwards of 20 wires. The strain on my muscles was felt strongly, but equally felt was a sense of purpose, or perhaps righteousness.

While I powered through my pain, the other three eventually started talking, then playing simple games, and at one point even asking if they could help me make this faster.

I appreciated the thought, but other than passing me one of the tools I might need, there wasn't much.

The minutes continued to melt into hours, and I hoped their sanity didn't melt away as quickly. We had a long time ahead of us.

Already rather industrious, are you not? That is the power of motivation, though I supposed this is no revelation to you.

Take your gifts, immigrant.

I woke up with a slightly rough shaking of my shoulder. "Huh…wuzzat?"

"Magos, wake up!"

I shifted slowly, turning to my left and trying to clear away my eyes. Standing in the room with me was First Lieutenant Ramirez and one of the two men who had originally been charged with watching over me. "Hey, sorry. Just…give me a second."

I removed the blanket over my form, revealing my t-shirt and shorts. Turning 90 degrees, I planted my feet on the ground, took a deep breath, and stood up. "How can I help you?"

"I came to ask about the repairs you were doing."

I stretched and yawned. "Ah…yes, those are done, like I said in my message to you. I replaced all burnt out cables I could find and put in fresh ones. I also tested the power through it, and nothing broke immediately. I think you'd have to try sending a message with it to see if everything is good."

"We already did. It worked. Our astropaths were able to send a message to another ship's astropaths."

"Cool, cool…so, what now?"

"I think we should speak further. Do you wish to eat anything first?"

My stomach roiled audibly. "Yeah, I'm pretty hungry. I'll go to the canteen and get something."

"No, no need. I'll have someone bring some food to you here. Let us meet in one hour's time. Here, take this comm-bead, it is tuned to my own." He handed a wiry-looking headset to me.

"Thanks. Can you also send a toiletry kit? The previous magi and tech-priests didn't have one from what I found here."

He nodded and left with the guard, hand on his own comm-bead as he spoke softly into it.

The room I was in was a bedroom located in the Mechanicus quarters, tucked away between the large racks in the adjacent communal room. It was surprisingly comfortable, more like one I would find in a motel. There was a personal touch in the form of banners, symbols, and other religious items, but nothing else. The bed was soft and not too far from the bathroom.

I glanced at the red Mechanicus robes I had been given on coming to this universe, then stepped closer and sniffed them. I was surprised at the lack of sweat permeating the air, perhaps these robes had been designed by people who knew the wearers were constantly doing physical work with possibly malodorous materials.

I took a shower in the barren bathroom and exited just in time for a South Asian man offering me a covered tray, who left as soon as I took it and told me to just leave it outside the room for him to collect later.

Inside was a thin pair of what looked like chicken wings, a cup of fruity-smelling paste, a hard biscuit the size of my palm and just as brown, and some overly filtered water.

I dug in voraciously, the weak smells already much better than the nonsense they called food the first time I had eaten aboard this ship.

++++

Ramirez's office was small and filled with cabinets, bookshelves, and tablets. Light brown carpeting covered the floor, while the walls appeared to be plastic and similarly colored. His desk was as wide as he was tall and held a monitor off to one side so that if he were speaking with someone, it wouldn't get in the way.

"Take a seat," he said as he gestured to one of the cushioned chairs. He himself sat in in his much more comfortable office chair opposite me.

"So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Your work. We brought you on to fix our astropathic relay, which you seem to have done. I'm pleased by your speed, by the way. It's a refreshing pace compared to the unfortunate batch we've been forced to work with for some years now."

I said nothing.

"In any case, I saw that you left me a message after you were done that explained everything you did and what materials you used, which is good since I can explain that if anyone asks. Not that they will, but it is good to be clear about this."

"Of course."

He leaned back. "But that leaves you without any work. We only have one relay, after all. So, what do you intend to do now? Leave us?"

"Actually, I suppose I should be clearer about my skillset. My area of expertise is currently any Warp related technology. While I approached you over your broken relay, I'm actually qualified to work on other systems as well. Off the top of my head, I'm knowledgeable about Gellar field generators, navigator relays, Warp drives, and astropathic relays…" Suddenly, something poked at a part of my mind, like the faintest of slaps as if to remind me of something. "In addition, I have a high amount of…theoretical knowledge related to how starship systems and machinery work."

I took a breath. "So, if you think you need my skills for your ship, I'd be happy to stay on for a period of time that we can discuss. If you don't, then I think you or the captain must know other ships that need repairs and are also waiting. I would appreciate it if you could arrange meetings between myself and their captains so I can do my work there."

As I had explained my technical abilities, Ramirez's eyebrows had gone higher and higher until they were half-way to his hairline. "That...that is a rather useful skillset. And you aren't wrong that we'd like you to remain with us. Why don't we decide your place on this ship more formally?"

What he meant by that was deciding all of my needs like lodging, food, and work obligations. My official room now was located two decks below the entrance to the Mechanicus quarters, since it wasn't good if someone was crashing in their rooms without permission. I'd still be allowed to use their stuff.

The expectation was simple. I was in charge of handling maintenance over all "Warp-related systems" aboard the Sanguine Spear, which just meant the four systems I had mentioned. However, on an ad hoc basis, I could be asked to look into other mechanical or technology-related issues and see if I could do something. If I was dismissed for whatever reason, then the ship's leadership would do a good-faith search to find another job for me aboard another ship, or a nearby world if that wasn't possible. This would only not apply if I severely violated the laws aboard the ship.

"Well, I think that about covers everything. Do you have any questions for me?"

"Yes, what happens if your normal complement of Mechanicus personnel returns and insist I not stay?"

"That would qualify as a case in which we would try to find you another position on another vessel. But we would obviously try to resolve that without losing anyone."

"Alright. This seems good to me."

"Excellent. I'll ask you to sign this contract that just makes this all explicit." He turned his monitor towards me and handed me a digital signing pad from behind his desk. I read the contract on the screen to confirm it said all that we had discussed, then took the digital pen and put my initials on it.

The moment my hand hit the interface, I froze and concentrated deliberately now. My old name made no sense here, and since Magos was a title…

The word "Acerak" appeared in curved letters on the screen. If he noticed my hesitation, he didn't comment on it.

"Thank you," he said, and clicked the print button. Two copies shot out of a printer I hadn't seen behind the chair. He handed me one. "Keep this for yourself if you wish."

Before I left, he gave me a tablet that I could use to read and send messages to other people with email addresses on the ship's own network. "Talk with Shipswain Singh once you leave, she'll get you sorted out on all the smaller details."

++++

It was somewhat useful that I hadn't come into this universe with anything but the clothes on my back (the red robes, understanding of High Gothic, and passable Terran Low-Gothic being a secondary gift), as it meant I had nothing to move between my temporary room and my newly assigned one.

I was slightly taken aback when I exited the elevator to the floor I needed to go.

The elevator room was entirely public as expected, but the class and elegance seemed…too familiar? Yes, too familiar.

Marble tiles covered the floor, while paintings of important people (obviously including the Emperor) adorned the red, wavy walls just out of reach from any hands. A wrought-iron chandelier extended down from the ceiling; convincingly fake flowers hung around it instead of any lighting. Two semi-circles of bulbs were arranged on the ceiling itself to give an impression of natural light.

As I made my way past the dozen or so people trying to crowd into the elevator, I was stopped by a bald black man wearing a black robe similar to mine, but with short sleeves and the bottom ending at his knees, revealing what looked like jeans beneath. The robe itself had the twin-headed eagle upon its shoulders and looked a bit crumpled.

"Hold-oh, never mind. Sorry, Magos," he said with what sounded like an American accent, but from where, I couldn't tell.

"I'm sorry?"

"You're good, Magos, I'm sorry for holding you up."

I walked on, confused by what I had heard.

The hallway itself was covered by tile-pattered carpet, navy-blue and bright orange squares alternating against each other. Doors were spaced out every few meters and the hallway large enough for two people to comfortably avoid talking to each other if they exited opposing rooms. Sign hung above that indicated where batches of rooms could be found, along with specific locations. I looked up at the two hanging near me.

Rooms B1-B30
Public Librarium
Cafeteria Sigma

Those were all located up to my left, but none were what I needed.

Rooms C1-C30
Cafeteria Delta
Work Office

Ah, there it was. I headed through the hallway around a few people, all dressed in various colored knee-length robes on the outside, though a few wore different things that occasionally revealed themselves when the robes shifted.

As I walked, I noted the paintings along the walls, some of which even seemed to mark specific crew members who were important or performed "incredible service in the name of the Emperor". That second one seemed like a marker of people who died. Still, whoever did those paintings was good. Social recognition was always a valuable reward.

Eventually, I reached the vaguely named "Work Office". Its name was written in vermillion on a blood-red banner that curved along the doorway, the banner itself held down with ropes that ran behind it.

There was only a bored East Asian woman behind a desk as I entered. She had her head down in some magazine she was reading. The office itself was surprisingly sparse in decoration, with only what looked like a tapestry depicting something too abstract for me to recognize that hung over the desk from the wall.

She looked up as I approached. "Can I help, Magos?"

"I was told by First Lieutenant Ramirez to report to…Shipswain Singh," I explained, showing her the tablet with my details.

She glanced over it slowly, then stood up. "Stay here just a moment." It actually took 120 moments for her to come back, but who was counting? "She'll see you now. Follow me, please."

Suddenly, a door I hadn't noticed opened on my left and I could see into the rest of this area. I followed the woman down a few turns past other important offices, like one belonging to the Quartermaster and another to the Medicae Master.

We stopped after a minute and she opened a wooden door on our left. "Madame? He's here…Go ahead, Magos."

"Thank you," I replied. She shut the door behind me.

Shipswain Singh was a wrinkled old woman, her raven-colored hair bound in a tight bun. A small red smear ran vertically across the center of her forehead, and a gold ring pierced her left nostril. Her eyes looked hazy behind her thick orange-red glasses. She didn't wear a robe like everyone else, instead opting for a light-blue sari that contrasted her brown skin. "Hello," she said, looking up but not getting up from her chair.

"Hello. I was told to report to you by First Lieutenant Ramirez."

"Ah, okay. Sit, sit, and show me what you have."

I dragged the chair from its position against the wall to face her across her white plastic desk. Nearly all her furniture was plastic, for that matter, just painted with differing colors. The cabinet to my back-left was red-brown, the one behind her was teal. I wondered if she just wasn't considered high enough in position to get more expensive equipment.

She took the tablet I offered from my hands and adjusted her glasses slightly. I could see that her hands shook just a bit as she set it down in front of her. For 30 seconds, she read it in silence. "So, you are to look over some ship technology as your duty, but I can ask you to look at other problems as well."

"That sounds correct to me."

"Good, good. Okay, I expect some kind of report from you regarding your work. Everyone has to give those to me. I will send an example to your tablet, and you just follow that."
"I understand," I said with a nod.

"Then I think we are done here. You can go about your work, just keep your tablet in hand."

++++

My new room was towards the dead-center of the ship from what I gathered, with the command deck above us by a few hundred meters. Thus, the closest of the systems officially under my stewardship was the gellar field generator, found in the engineerium. Not that the others were farther away, they were all located nearby. But the generator was the closest of them all.

Getting there was easy enough, it was two elevator rides down and both were located near each other. The first would bring me to the bottom of some hab level below my own room's level, the second would bring me to the engineerium itself.

Confirming my route, I headed back to the Mechanicus quarters first to grab the bag of diagnosis and quick-fix tools. After that, I took the elevators down to where I needed to be.

Another pair of guards in black robes stood by the entrance, roughly checking everyone who came through along with any belongings. I was thankfully spared that level of searching, my red robes once more showing the privileges of the Mechanicus as people allowed to go where they wanted.

The engineerium was itself a giant chamber with sub-chambers for its various systems. I saw dozens of people on each floor, but each floor here was mostly a light-brown walkway that connected at their center to two staircases.

Along the walls, I saw pipes and air ducts snake their way from top to bottom. If there was any air filtering being done here, it wasn't strong enough to remove some stench I hadn't ever been exposed to. The closest I could describe it as was burning rubber somehow mixed with the feeling of being near electricity.

"Excuse me," I asked a tall, lanky ginger man who looked a bit underfed, "where is the entrance to the gellar field generator?"

"Uh, four floors down, I think. Sorry, I don't work with that."

"No problem, thank you."

The man's directions were not correct, and instead of the generator, I found myself now closest to the Warp drive. Well, I could start here, I supposed.

…

Massive. Blindingly bright. A literal electrifying presence.

The machine before me was all those things and so much more. Its top looked like a pawn from chess, but instead of just a circular base, it had four metal "legs" that stretched towards the walls. The entire thing was easily 50 meters tall. Cables as thick as an entire person emerged out of the legs and wound their way up into the main body.

God, the light emanating from its glassy walls was absurdly bright. I reached into my bag for my welding faceplate and that helped quite a bit, but not enough to dim the light completely.

I could now make out walkways connected to the main energetic core of the drive itself, red lights attached to the sides so as to guide anyone on them. In the circular walls at the same level as the core, I could see a ring of similar energy. Part of the core was exposed completely, meaning you could step inside and probably die if you wanted as energy pulsed and stuttered from the core to the ring around it. This opening was aligned with the length of the ship.

I turned to my left and descended the curved staircase to enter the chamber properly, the electric feeling growing stronger as I did, along with a stagnant and uncomfortable heat. Sweat now formed beads on my forehead. I wiped it away, but it regenerated instantly. Damn.

It was now that I encountered for the first time a thing that truly marked the Mechanicus as inhuman in morality.

Its face was half-concealed by a metal plate that sported a red lens over the eye. The right hand was a giant metal pincer that could spin, allowing the servitor to carry or unscrew large objects. Its entire torso and upper legs were covered with a bare metal plate, while skin or something similar was revealed from the knees down to the feet. Cables ran across its right shoulder and into the center of its torso through the plate, only to emerge where the stomach would be and wrap around the lower left of the torso back onto its back. A thick black-red bundle of wires was plugged into the top of its skull from somewhere on its back.

A servitor.

I couldn't tell if it noticed me, as it didn't react initially. But then, I saw it turn explicitly. I froze as the half-corpse, half-machine thing looked me over. It almost seemed to be waiting for me to react.

Eventually, I took a half-step. When it didn't respond, I took another, then another. The servitor stayed put.

I wasn't fully satisfied that it was dormant, but I couldn't do anything about it and not knowing what it was thinking bothered me a great deal.

Ultimately, I decided to ignore the damn thing and walked towards the doors that would lead into the innards of the Warp drive. The large doors, easily capable of letting two medium-sized sheds stacked on each other through with room to spare, slowly rolled back for me.

The inside was disappointingly barren, I supposed. Just slightly rusted metal and a circular staircase that I assumed ran along the entire vertical portion. As I stepped up, I retracted my point about it being barren.

Set upon set of glass cylinders, each as large as a man's chest, with tapered ends were placed in circles through the center. Every single one of the hundred or so was filled with the same white-blue, pulsing energy I had seen from the outside through the glass panels in the walls, and I now felt electricity so thoroughly permeate the air I thought I was being stung constantly. Strangely enough, the heat didn't feel any different despite me being this close.

My destination being at the top meant I had to walk up the steps that were less than a meter from the cylinders at any given moment. I couldn't even look at anything due to the light blinding me, relying on my hands to reach out and find the next steps.

Like a child, I crawled my way up one step at a time. It wasn't until I felt the electricity die down a bit that I opened my eyes.

Now I stood on top of the structure, as if I were a scout in a watchtower. The platform itself was circular like the drive's main housing and had a railing to prevent any falls. The actual material was steel, but certain areas were panels and marked via a slightly different color.

Raising one of those up revealed another glass cylinder, this one slightly wider than the energy-containing ones below. It was also filled with green fluid, though I knew if you ran your hand through it, it would be more like jelly.

The key point was human brain placed within and the 22 wires coming out of it to allow you to interface with it without opening the container. The brain itself had four separate containers the size of a smartphone hooked into directly. Those would be the cogitators for actually computing.

Under each of the panels, two brains would be found. All of them were linked together and connected to a very bulky panel with an inbuilt monitor that was found behind me on railing.

I walked over to said panel and tried to find a power button, but to no avail. The only thing I could see were female ports, presumably to be plugged by an authorized tech-priest who probably had to have a password or authenticator of some kind.

Doing my checks manually was now functionally impossible.

There were four components to check: the brain-cogitators, the energy cylinders, the cables with provided electrical power to the whole mechanism, and the emitter itself. Two of those were completely impossible for me to gauge correctly as the brain-cogitators were fixed in place and meant to be tested via the interface and the emitter was inside the core where energy ran freely. The cylinders could be eyed from a distance, but I needed much stronger eye-protection to do that. Only the cables could easily be tested by me right now.

It was time to go back to the Mechanicus quarters and see if I could somehow get myself access to all this.

++++

By luck, I found something only 10 minutes of searching later. I must have missed it previously.

A working terminal. It seemed to be for any Mechanicus member who didn't have implants to wirelessly work with machines and seemed to function just fine since I could power it on.

After a moment and with an annoyingly high-pitched buzz that wasn't too loud, I saw the dark screen become less dark and a cursor appear on the top left.

$

…Fuck, I didn't know what operating system this thing was using. I slapped my face in frustration before a stupid idea came to me.

$ help

GNU bash, version …

I laughed at the absurdity. A *nix system?

$ whoami

The result was a 20-character string of numbers and letters. That was meaningless, but I could check the permissions this user had. It took me 20 minutes to navigate this futuristic version of a system I knew by heart to figure out that whoever this was, they were a standard user.

However, they did have some useful data in their home directory. In particular, there was a file which detailed how to use a device that could directly interface with the machinery and provide a readable printout.

There was also location for that device mentioned.

Bingo.

So, your first view of a warp drive. Or a warp engine as they call it. You and I know that is not true, though. Will you enlighten them soon, I wonder?

Take your gifts, immigrant.

"And…that should do it," I said as I tightened the last screw and set my captive down. Immediately, the triangular and flat machine took off, proceeding to suck up dirt from the bare floor.

"Okay. Thanks," Anna muttered.

Anna was a rather ugly figure on both the outside and inside. Her face was heavily asymmetric and covered with boils and other blemishes. She was also deliberately unhelpful when I tried to speak with her to understand what her request was for.

The old lady seemed to think that being vague and rude somehow didn't slow the process down. Her loss, really, she'd been forced to clean this entire hallway by hand since the thick Roomba I had just fixed broke down. Some battery acid had leaked and prevented a contact from forming.

I pulled out my tablet from my tool bag and opened the incident report I'd received regarding this issue.

Incident ID: XXXXXXXXX

Details: Cleaning machine does not work

Status: Reported

I updated the status, then added in my own comment.

Status: Closed Complete

Resolution Detail(s): Machine's battery compartment was partly coated with acid from a leaky battery. Battery was identified and taken for disposal and compartment was cleaned out. Machine was successfully activated afterwards with a new battery.

Stowing the tablet away, I made my way back to the elevator, accompanied by Rick and Dong-Gun. They were two of the ship's armsmen, given light armor and autopistols to keep the people of this area in check. I couldn't refuse their company, but I wouldn't want to anyways. The poverty and forced servitude of the inhabitants had made them greedy enough to kill someone who came with shiny technology, but also fearful of the scary men who had full impunity to kill as they wish if someone stepped out of line.

This class of people was known as bondsmen. The lowest of the low, those who had the arduous tasks that no one else wanted to or could complete. Their number was equal to the crew, or so I'd heard. Their entire environment was dirtier and less comfortable, if the few trips I'd made down here by this point were anything to go by. Harsh lighting and slightly out-of-focus air conditioning were an ever-present problem down here, though I'd done my best on the second one.

It was no mistake to say that the less time I spent here, the better for my own safety, even if I sympathized with their plight.

This was, thankfully, the last issue I had to fulfill for this day. There were many more on my list, but a reasonable quota, I felt, was hitting the 30-40 biggest ones each day while trying to follow a first-come, first-served principle.

I made my way back to the Mechanicus quarters and dropped the bag off my shoulder, then stretched it a bit to beat the soreness out. I drank a bit from my water bottle, then sat down at the closest bench, one that I had appropriated for my own work.

I had been informed that knowledge would find itself entering my mind supernaturally, but the side-effects weren't made clear. There weren't that many ideas in my mind initially, but my work in repairing issues ranging from simple maintenance like the Roomba to needing to carefully defuse a major fire hazard in a macro plasma battery had given me glimpses into how they worked.

These ideas were like brain worms, they refused to leave me alone no matter what I did. My thoughts drew back to the haphazard schematics I had drawn in my brain of the countless circuits and machines I had worked on or even just glanced at. I felt compelled to put them on paper.

But glimpses and occasional examination didn't compare to the biggest body of knowledge in my mind, that being a clear-cut, if superficial, view of how the Warp worked.

The Immaterium. The Empyrean. The Sea of Souls.

It was such an interesting thing, a realm filled with purely psychic matter that interacted with our own. Material laws always gave way unless bolstered by another force, meaning incredible feats that people understandably called miraculous or divine were attainable.

No, not attainable. Manufacturable. Controllable. Not easily, of course, but possible nonetheless.

My experience with the astropathic relay led me to the realization that it was the easiest to start experimenting with. There were so many directions I could choose, but they had different payoff times.

The biggest issue, in my opinion, was that a Mechanicus with far more knowledge than its descendant millennia later still didn't have more than a rudimentary understanding of how the Warp worked. It was obviously not an easy task, but progress via iterative improvement seemed stunted as well. At the very least, whoever built the relay for this ship had made the most basic thing possible. It did its job, which was to allow the astropath to look for messages.

It was the equivalent of opening an Internet connection to the entire world, then scanning all possible traffic near you and attempting to find something that fit your requirements.

I had no idea how astropaths worked with this or did their work in general. My ignorance wasn't helped by the decisive refusal I'd been given when I asked to speak with one of the ship's astropaths. I didn't even know who refused, just that it wasn't going to happen.

Oh well. There were things I could try working with.

I sketched and noted my thoughts for the next hour, paying attention to the things my mind was instinctively drawn towards. Actually testing any of this would take a lot of time, but I could get started right now.

++++

"Hey, Acerak!"

"Hey, Nigel," I responded, taking a seat next to him.

Nigel was one of the guards who had escorted me the first time I was on the ship. He was short but fit, his muscles well-defined under that plain white t-shirt he wore. His black hair, like all guards, was cut short due to military regulation. His features were a mix of Caucasian and East Asian, though his skin was mostly white.

We currently sat in one of the cafeterias meant for crew and located on the same floor as my room. The tables were a smooth plastic, with the color and feel of a picnic bench. Each could seat 60 people and stretched across two-thirds of the room's length and one-tenth of its width. Eight such tables were placed here.

Today's evening meal? Canned and unrecognizable fruit, while the main meal was rice and a mild orange curry. For dessert, there was a small sugar cookie, no larger than a third of my palm. Oh, and an alcohol ration.

I handed that last one to him, which he graciously took. "Thanks. So, how was your day?"

"Pretty good. I spent most of my time down in the bondsmen level."

"Ah, that sucks. They didn't try anything, did they?"

"No. Two of the guards down there said they had to come with me."

"Good. That's a no-go zone unless you have weapons, they'll eat you alive if you go down there just like that. I didn't think there was anything worth fixing down there."

"There is, actually. Flickering lights, broken AC, faulty automatic doors, things like that."

"Oh, that makes sense."

"So, what about you? What was your day like?"

"Way more boring. I told you, I just stand around for six hours and make sure nobody tries anything."

"Yeah, I guess if you do that for…what, six years? Yeah, that's gonna be boring." It said something that Nigel was still considered a rookie to the job despite his experience. Others, he told me, had been doing it for 30 and proudly traced their family lineage as glorious guards aboard one of the Emperor's own ships.

We chatted further as we ate, as due to schedule conflicts, we couldn't meet every day like this.

"Hey, you coming to the recreation night tomorrow?" he asked as we dropped off our plates for cleaning and headed out.
"The what?"

"I didn't tell you? Oh, you'll like it. Come to Hangar Beta tomorrow night and find me around 8 p.m. It'll be fun."

"Alright, I'll be there."

For now, however, I planned to return to my room while Nigel went back for his second shift in the engineerium that day.

Back in my own room, I turned on the overhead fluorescent light. The soft yellow filled the room as I removed the robes I had, feeling slightly gross as they stuck to me partially due to sweat. Working with these clothes was annoying as hell, as they trapped heat slowly but steadily.

I glanced at the three others hanging in the small closet in the corner, along with an extra t-shirt and shorts, and decided it was worth it to make a quick laundry run. I grabbed everything and headed off towards the laundromat.

The laundromat, like many other services afforded to those who worked on the ship, was kept near the habitation areas for ease of access. It wasn't self-operated, however. Instead, there were a few crewmembers on-hand to take your laundry and run in how you needed: standard or heavy-duty. In addition, you had to sign into a logbook so they had a record of who used it, when they did, and some other details.

At least it was fast. I had my clothes handed back in 20 minutes, dried and folded. Once I was back to my own room, I put the fresh robes in the closet and almost closed it before I decided to check something.

I opened a bag the size of a backpack and stuck my hand inside, pulling out a cube of some heavy and marble-like metal. I had no idea what it was, and quite frankly, the whole thing was useless to me right now.

The same could be said of the tall machine sitting on the other side of the closet. That one was black and appeared to be built with iron. It came up to about five feet tall and had a vertically sliding door on the front.

The inside was surprisingly deep.

I knew, instinctively, what both of these were. I had known for several days now. The bag would randomly provide me with metals every 24 hours, while the machine made any clothing put inside form-invariant. Put a pair of pants in and those pants would stretch or shrink with the wearer, something the Hulk would no doubt have enjoyed.

As far anyone else would have been able to deduce, they had just appeared here, as if they had always been in the closet, just waiting for someone to open the door.

I went to bed and fell asleep after a few minutes.

The next thing I knew, it was several hours later, and someone was knocking on my door.

"Just a minute," I yelled as I rubbed the tiredness out of my eyes.

Opening the door revealed no one. I looked down and saw something white past my feet into the room itself.

It was a letter. Unfolding it revealed that I was required to appear at Singh's office in 20 minutes. I sighed and considered lying down again, but I knew I'd never get up if I did that. So, I got ready for the day.

Singh was thankfully already in her office when I arrived, but I could tell she had just come from elsewhere as she settled into her seat.

"Ma'am," I acknowledged.

"Magos. Sit down," she said with a gesture. I took the offered seat.

"So…what's going on?"

"We will get to that. Tell me first about your work. How difficult has it been?"

"Not very," I admitted. "I had some trouble initially as I needed to find all the tools the previous Mechanicus personnel used, but once I found them, nothing has been too problematic."

"Good, good. And I saw you closed almost all the tickets you were sent, and no one complained, so that is also proof of what you are saying," she added, her head bobbing slightly.

"Well, that's good," I said with a laugh. "I'd hate to think I wasn't doing something correctly."

The silence dragged on for a few moments. "So-"

"Hmm?"

I cleared my throat. "So, are you just checking up on me, or did something happen, or…"

"Yes, something did happen. I met with the First Lieutenant earlier. He said that we were preparing to depart."

"Oh, really! That's interesting. Where are we going?"

"That I didn't ask. But I wanted to make sure that there were no issues preventing us from leaving. Have you looked at the engines, the warp drive, all that?"

"Yes, I've looked at all of them. There was nothing that would prevent the ship from actually moving, but I did find some small issues here and there. They're fixed now, but the biggest was with the warp drive. The power wasn't perfectly synchronized, which meant it might stutter for a few moments when active. That shouldn't be a problem anymore as I replaced the partially burnt-out cables, but I can't test it."

"Did you write that up?"

"I did. Do you have the tickets available on your own tablet? I can find it."

She handed it to me and let me search. I scrolled several times until the right report appeared. "Here, this one."

Her eyes glanced over it. "You didn't mention the issue you just explained."

"I said I replaced a power cable to ensure synchronization."

"No, I mean the rest of it. If we have the same problem later, I want to know what you did about it."

"Oh, okay. Do you want me to-?"

"Yes, fix it."

"Sure. Is there anything else you want to discuss?"

"…No, there is not. You can go about your day."

As I stood up, she spoke up. "Actually, one thing. It's not a problem, I am just curious. Why do you call it the Mechanicus, not the Mechanicum?"

I blinked.

Oh, shit.

"My mistake, you're right. The Mechanicum," I replied, managing to keep my voice calm.

POV: First Lieutenant Ramirez

"Congratulations," a voice hissed at me.

I looked Navigator Michaelangelo dead in his eyes and responded, "Thank you."

It upset the Achelieux bastard that someone, anyone, would be unphased by his appearance and voice. Like most of his kind, he had pale skin akin to an artist's canvas. His fingers were noticeably long and had no fingernails, just flesh. Unlike most of his kind, however, he filled out his typical bulky black dress too much. For being so large, he certainly did not have a voice like one would expect. If the few navigators I had met were anything to go by, the high-pitched squeal was commonplace among their kind.

"Indeed. Congratulations on your marriage."

I nodded to Lin, the ship's astropath, who sat next to him. "Thank you."

The two resident psykers were polar opposites in all ways. Lin cut a slender figure that was wrapped in a rotating set of bright and beautiful sleeveless clothes that her people had typically worn; I believe the word was "cheongsam". Her voice was firm and full in a way Michaelangelo's could never be, properly feminine as well as opposed to the navigator's unmasculine whispers.

The others echoed this sentiment. They were similar in stature to me, each responsible for a vital component of the ship's functioning.

A total of seven people including myself waited around the rectangular wooden table with rounded corners for this meeting to start. Thankfully, we did not have to wait long. Captain Abraxis entered the room, flanked by two guards. At his arrival, we all stood and made the Aquila. He responded in-kind.

As fitting of my position, I was placed to his right.

"Sit down, sit down, all of you," he ordered. "You've all been told that we've been given a mission. I want everyone to tell me what our operational status is. Navigator, you start."

The psyker opposite me opened his mouth. "I am prepared to guide the vessel through the Warp."

Lin went next. "The astropathic relay is repaired, meaning I can perform as ordered."

Next to her was Hubble, someone who I knew next to nothing about since he (or possibly she) kept to themselves. "Real-space communication abilities are working fine."

Harry Truesdale was the up-and-coming Helmsman and the closest to my own background. "Engines are operational, and we have full mobility."

Tub Pov Laing was the Weapons Officer who sat on my side of the table, in charge of making sure both the guns and gun crews were ready when needed. "All weapons report active, though we have not yet replenished our shelled ammunition. Our current reserve measures to 48%."

"All attack craft are accounted for, but we can only field 30% of them due to a lack of trained crews," came the tense words of Zaphara Payne, a woman with coal-like skin and more tightly wound-up than a mechanical clock's springs.

"The crew are free of any lingering traumas, and they report no issues in the hull or systems," I spoke up finally.

"Sounds like the ship is ready to set sail once more. Good!" the captain replied. "Helmsman, prepare to take us to the Mandeville point. Navigator, chart us a course to the Tarantulon system. I want us moving in three hours. Dismissed! Ramirez, you stay."

"Excuse me, captain," Laing nervously interjected. "But we do not have the ammunition for a serious fight."

"I'm not expecting there to be any fight. The traitors are in full retreat and none of them had any reason to go there. Anymore dumb questions?"

No one took the bait. They all filed out, leaving me and the captain alone. "What can I do for you, sir?"

He sighed and clasped his hands as if praying, his body leaning forward until his head rested on his thumbs. "It's Wilhelm."

Wilhelm was the captain's son and also a captain. His ship was a light cruiser, befitting a newly appointed officer. They were each other's only remaining family, the rest dead once the traitors had brought destruction to Terra.

"What happened?" I asked.

"He got some fucking idiot to officiate a 'marriage' while he was away from here. I only found out from Calamar. He won't even talk to me, my own son refused to listen to me!"

"…I'm sorry to hear that, sir. He is a bigger fool than you or I thought. What would you have me do?"

"You try talking to him. Please. Anything that might help him see reason."

"Alright, sir. I will. In fact…I'll even go in person."

I clap the captain's back softly in consolation before leaving. Once I was out of the room, I headed straight for the bridge. With any luck, Truesdale would be there.

As it turned out, he was. I beckoned him over.

"What is it?"

"I need to speak with Wilhelm. In person. Can you bring the ship along a path that makes that possible?"

"Why?"

"It's the captain's business and he doesn't want anyone hearing about it."

Truesdale looked confused, but indifference won out. "Fine. You'll get at most 20 minutes. Head to Hangar Alpha in…one hour."

++++

True to his word, the optimal departing point was reached exactly an hour later. I was sitting within one of the few transports we had on-board, watching through a viewport as the Spear rapidly became smaller. Past it, I could make out Terra itself, along with the small figure of Mars in the distance.

I could even see some dots moving oddly against Terra's skies. Ships belonging to the Imperialis Armada for the most part, I assumed. The loyal Space Marines were out in full force, hell-bent on sending the bastards to a rightful death.

Fuck Lupercal. Fuck him and everyone who betrayed the Imperium.

"Sir, we'll be arriving in two minutes. The Callade's Dream acknowledged us and has given us clearance to land.

The landing was a bit bumpy, but I stepped off unruffled into the hangar. Two senior armsmen were waiting for me to bring me to Wilhelm. "Doing well, Willis?"

Willis was one of the oldest armsmen I'd ever known. According to him, he'd been serving since half-way through the Great Crusade. "Just fine, sir. The captain is waiting for you in his quarters, we'll get you there swiftly."

"And your family?"

"They're doing well. My son just got accepted into one of the navy's schools."

"I look forward to seeing him command his own vessel one day."

"I do too, but I wonder if I'll see it happen," Will replied with his signature cavalier attitude to death.

In any case, four of my precious minutes were taken by the need for transportation via small automobile, meaning I would only get 12 minutes in total. Willis knocked on the door. "Captain? We have First Mate Ramirez from the Sanguine Spear here for you."

"Send him in," came a slightly muffled response.

Once the door was open, I stepped through and waited for it to close behind me.

Ahead stood the captain's son, a spitting image of his father at that age from the pictures I'd seen. I could already see how the black hair might turn white and gray, where a thick mustache would grow, how his skin might start to sag as well.

"Ramirez!" He greeted me warmly, coming over to strongly embrace me.

"Wilhelm!" I returned with equal force and a grin. "How are you?"

"Doing good!" He held his left hand up, wiggling his fingers. Specifically, his left ring finger, which had a golden ring on it.

"You got married, finally?"

"Yes! Oh, I wish you could have been there! It was small, but some of her family came and we made it a real party! I danced and danced even after my legs started hurting. I hit the bed that night and promptly passed out."

"That sounds wonderful. You'll have to introduce me at some point."

"I will, certainly. She's off on Terra right now, but she would have loved to meet you!"

"Hmm." The smile dropped from my face. "You know why I'm here, right?"

"The old man?" Wilhelm's face was apologetic. "We both know he wouldn't get over it easily."

"No, you're right about that. He desperately wants you to speak with him. Maybe he thinks he can convince you to divorce her."

"That's not happening. Our family may have followed tradition, but they're dead and I'm not beholden to them any longer. In fact, I think I'll let him stew in it a bit longer."

"Just not too long, I hope. Or with my name being mentioned."

"Don't worry, I can keep a secret," he said with a wink and cocky smirk.

"As long as you're clear on that, I've passed his message along as he wanted." I glanced at a clock on the wall. "I need to get going now, unfortunately."

"So soon?"

"Yes, we've been apparently given a mission. The Spear is supposed to visit the Tarantulon system and make an arc of visits as it returns. Something to assess where their loyalty lies, I suppose."

He grimaced. "…I hate that any of this is necessary. It still doesn't feel…real, does it?"

"Treachery never does. But the Emperor's own sons and their legions? That feels even less real. Still, we have to remind them that their actions will not stand." I stepped back. "Goodbye, Wilhelm. We'll speak again in a few months, hopefully."

++++

"He refused to speak with me!?"

"Wilhelm is…irrational at the moment. I think he's drunk on getting what he wants, even if it is no good for him," I explained.

The captain buried his hands in his face. "Emperor save me, please! Someone help my son see reason!"

"Please try to put it out of your mind for now, captain. We will be gone and unable to speak with him for a long time. I think," I whispered. I leaned, the captain unconsciously emulating my stance, "I think he may be more amenable to speaking once he returns.

"I hope so."

I stepped back. "…is that all, captain?"

"Huh? Uh, yes. You have command for now."

"Understood, sir, I'll ensure we get to Tarantulon without any delays or issues. Please rest."

++++

"First Lieutenant on deck!"

It pleased my heart to be announced in such a manner when I stepped onto bridge. Over three dozen men and women made the Aquila for me. "At ease," I declared with a returned Aquila.

I took my normal position standing near the captain's chair on an elevated part of the bridge. From here, the rest of the officers and personnel could be observed, along with an uncut view of the part of space the ship was aiming towards. Only a few stars could be seen, however, since the lighting hid the weaker ones.

"Permission to approach, First Lieutenant?"

I turned to my left and saw Truesdale. "Granted. What is it?"

He approached me. "Is something the matter with the captain? This is our first mission in six months and he's not here?"

"He's not feeling well." When Truesdale didn't leave, I turned back to him. "Is something else troubling you?"

"…Why did we get this mission? Sending a cruiser to investigate a random world is utter madness! It doesn't make any sense – this is work for a light cruiser! I looked into it, apparently this system we're going to wasn't even in the traitors' paths by a longshot, the odds of them having rebelled is quite low!"

I let the silence fill a few moments as he took a breath. "Helmsman Truesdale, who is the current leader of the Imperialis Armada?"

"I…I don't know, sir."

"There isn't one. There have been some practical promotions, but the only one formally authorized to dictate orders to us is the Lord Commander, and he is out chasing the traitors to their deaths. Speaking of the Lord Commander, have you heard any of his speeches since the fighting was finished?"

"No, sir."

"Hmm. You should see if you can find any records, they're very helpful in predicting what is likely to happen next. If my interpretation is correct, we're all in for a very serious shake-up of how things are done. One thing he has repeatedly emphasized is preventing anyone but the Lord Commander from casually ordering every aspect of the Imperium's military might. What does it mean?"

He was silent for a moment. "Sorry, sir, I don't understand."

"That's alright, it doesn't mean anything. Or it means everything. Who knows? My point is that there is change coming, and with the shake-up, there would necessarily be many opportunities to see oneself raised up or see rivals put down. Of note, there are three individuals who I think believe this.

I put up a finger. "The first is Admiral LeBray, who I know put down several of the traitor vessels before the siege with his own battleship, to say nothing of what his squadron accomplished."

I put up another finger. "The second is Lady Admiral Maratov, who has strong ties with Terra's elites."

A third finger went up. "And then there is Jahtoya Harrison, a fearsome woman who has a long and consistent record for delivering stunning victories from the cockpit of a Starhawk Bomber. She is a popular figure, practically a legend amongst a vast number of pilots and senior officers."

"These people and undoubtedly many more are looking to be rewarded for one thing or another, and part of being noticed by the people who will do the rewarding is demonstrating a commitment to the Imperium in these troubled times by solving problems proactively. Our captain is friends with Admiral Penketh, who is likely in one of LeBray's social circles. Therefore, I suspect this is LeBray trying to add to his record and demonstrate once again that he would be a competent leader in a higher position. That it involves wasting a cruiser's worth of resources is not relevant."

I internally smirked at Truesdale's dumbfounded face. I didn't blame him for not seeing the politics of the Imperialis Armada, that sort of thing just didn't come to some people. That didn't mean I couldn't enjoy the cruel revelation. "Does that answer your question, Helmsman?"

He snapped his mouth shut. "Y-yes, sir! Thank you for answering my questions."

"Then return to your post."

"Aye."

I wonder if he would have enjoyed another lesson in how relevant that kind of decision-by-politics was even at our level. Or at least, to me.

The captain and his ancestors were homosexual by tradition and unrepentantly in love with the idea and themselves. As a benefit of being aligned with the Selenite gene-cult, their family was allowed to create humans with hand-picked traits. The traditional choice was for each family member to give their own blood to the cult at a certain point in their life and be given a clone of themselves to marry. Any children would be made using the parent's own blood.

But something had gone wrong with Wilhelm. Perhaps it was a mistake, or the family had slighted the gene cults, but he confided in me once that he was not purely attracted to men. He was confused over why he alone seemed to find both men and women pleasant to look at. Nor was he that interested in seeing himself literally in another's face.

With that revelation, I knew I had my way in. I encouraged him in secret to pursue the girls he liked until he found one worth marrying. I helped him sneak a message or two when his family had punished him once they found out.

I hadn't planned on being successful so suddenly. In fact, I would have preferred Wilhelm didn't marry whoever he did. The constant tension between him and his father had been excellent in stressing the latter.

My captain was a man with many vices. Eating rich food constantly, smoking addictive substances, and eventually ceasing exercise altogether once he joined the social circles his rank provided had strained his body to the point he was at now. Not close to dead, but certainly lacking as many years as he otherwise might have had. To my luck, he even found his heart throbbing painfully every time we entered the Warp, and if his comments were anything to go by, the pain took a long time to reside.

Right now, the captain would be drowning himself in liquor before passing out once more. If I maintained the status quo, that would be his fate for most of his remaining days.

I would have his chair soon enough.

The perceivers have imposed a new rule. Not to worry, this one is to your benefit, they tell me.

Take your gifts, immigrant.

I woke up with a killer headache. Quite literally, it felt as if my brain was begging to burst free from its shackles…I was a bit worried about how literal that could be in a galaxy of roaming psychic monsters that loved possessing what remained of their hosts bodies.

I lay in bed as the pain slowly receded, letting me think about something I'd never thought about before.

What the fuck was an "armored core"? It just looked like a mech. If I ever came across one, I knew how to tune its sub-systems and parts to gain greater performance while sacrificing something else. Maybe that would apply to Imperial mechs? Or titans, I supposed. Not very helpful in the moment though.

Once my eyes could be safely opened without the light triggering more headaches, I got up and tripped over a box I knew for a fact hadn't been there the night before. Unfortunately, it took me another minute to realize this because the sudden movement made my brain throw up and nearly made me actually throw up in the process. At least I caught myself before I hit my head.

The box itself was as tall as it was wide, roughly half a meter. The length was two meters, making the plastic container just barely able to fit under my bed. There would be no separation between its top and the bed frame.

I opened it from the sides and peered inside.

The first thing that caught my attention was an orange tool with a black grip, roughly the size of a flashlight. The end where the bulb would be had a clear plastic covering that revealed five smaller bulbs placed like the Olympics logo. There was even an easy way to click it to a belt.

This was no flashlight, my mind told me. It appeared to be a gun meant for…wait, what!? There was a pocket inventory in this thing?

Yes, yes there was. I could place materials inside and then use this "build gun" to create anything from power lines to entire vehicles or buildings. Or just deconstruct them and save them for later. Very interesting and undoubtedly cool to see.

The other thing inside was a slightly smaller box made of a similar plastic with carrying handles on the sides and top. I tried lifting it and stopped due to the weight. Opening it up revealed countless small chips, wires, screws, and other small components that could be quickly adapted to whatever the situation called for. Of particular note was a set of screw boxes filled with small, finger-shaped pieces that each had a tri-pronged connector on one side.

Computer spikes, my mind told me. Meant for hacking by flooding a computer's data with meaningless gibberish.

I closed both the boxes up, then shoved the outer one hard enough to put it underneath the bed as it scraped its way in. I did make sure to keep the build gun, since it would probably be good to get some practice with the thing. Something nagged at my brain, but I put it out of mind for now as I went into the bathroom to prepare for the day.

++++

It was a mistake to put it out of mind.

Standing two meters behind where I did any of my work in the Mechanicus…Mechanicum quarters was a plastic shed, the type one would find in a backyard. The only difference was that it was as large as a bedroom on the side. The color of the plastic was the exact same shade as the smaller one in my room.

I approached it and slowly opened the door, peering inside. An automatic light came on as I did, illuminating the whole interior.

Parts. It was just parts. Bigger in every way and consisting of replacement power supplies, steering mechanisms, interfaces, and more.

The other half of what I had been given registered in my brain. Repair parts…used to fix or upgrade droids, vehicles, and other machines. Vehicles weren't small by any means.

The frustrating thing about all of this was that I didn't need any of it at the moment. I had parts for days and I wasn't doing much in the way of hacking.

Still, best to get any more distractions out of the way. I sat down at my seat, closed my eyes, and asked myself what else had changed since last night.

A barrage of thoughts resurfaced my headache, but it passed swiftly this time. Thank God.

Firstly, my brain had been altered to make any cranial implants easy to add. I shuddered at the idea.

Secondly, there was a splinter of my "true essence" that I could move into or out of things? It would let me remotely view and control anything with the splinter, though more could be done. Very bizarre and not something I was particularly interested in.

Thankfully, that appeared to be the last of the new gifts I needed to concern myself with. I could now get to work on-

A loud klaxon went off twice, making me jump. A moment later, a voice came out of some intercom speakers I didn't even realize were there.

"All personnel are ordered to be at jump stations in one hour. Repeat. All personnel are ordered to come to jump stations in one hour. This message will be replayed in 30 minutes."

What the hell was a jump station? I decided to ask Singh about it. She responded with a map of the ship that showed all stations by designation and a single identifier, which I presumed was my own station assignment. It was placed two floors above my room, so perhaps 15 minutes away.

I took a look at some newly opened tickets, but there were none I could resolve before the deadline, and there wasn't enough time to really get into my own theories and experiments either. That meant twiddling my thumbs until it was time to go.

I sighed and did just that until a clock told me it was time to go.

When I exited the elevator, I found a slightly panicked and filled hallway ahead of me. I tapped one of them on the shoulder. "Excuse me, is this for the jump station?"

"Yeah. There's two here, so make sure you know which one is yours. They get really mad if you don't."

"Ah, thanks. Do I need to have anything before I get to the entrance?"

"No, just tell them your name."

The crowd slowly filed forward, but I could tell it was also getting slightly more organized as some people were hugging the left wall and everyone else wasn't. My station was on the left and thankfully closer than the other one.

A neon sign was lit up with the words "JUMP STATION". Under it was the actual entrance, with a woman carrying a tablet standing by it. As I approached, she hurriedly asked me my name.

"Magos Acerak."

She looked at her tablet, her scrolling stopping upon finding me in her list. "Good. You, sir, what's your name?" She asked the man behind me.

I entered the room and found myself in a barren room save for the painted walls, overhead lighting, and air vents. Hard plastic chairs were placed in lines facing the door with spacing between them for a person to comfortably walk between adjacent chairs. I noticed that they were bolted to the floor.

"Sir! Take that seat towards the back!"

I turned to the voice, a gruff man standing to my left being the source. "Me?"

"Yes you, sir! Take that seat I'm pointing at!"

I hurried to take it, finding myself next to a young boy, probably less than 10 years old. Others were filing in behind me, taking the seats near me as the room was slowly filled from back to front. Half the seats had been taken when I entered, but the rate at which we accepted entrants meant the room was packed shortly after.

Once the last person was taken, I saw a group of 12 armsmen, all armed with pistols and what looked like submachine guns, enter and seal the door behind them. "Head count?" one of them asked.

"All 115 people assigned here are here," the gruff man responded.

"Good. I think we can start."

"Right." He turned to us now. "Alright, everyone, listen up! Is there anyone here who hasn't undergone a Warp jump before?"

I raised my hand. Several others did the same.

"Okay, then I'll explain. Even if you're experienced, pay attention. You might have forgotten something." He projected quite well. "We're about to undergo a Warp jump. This is how the ship will be traveling between stars faster than the speed of light. To do that, we have to use a Warp drive that is going to take us into the Warp itself. Does everyone understand so far?"

At our nods, he continued. "Good. So, when we use the Warp drive, it's going to feel weird. If you feel like your skin is very cold or hot, or you feel something scratching at you, that's normal! It should only last for a few moments, maybe 30 seconds at the most. LISTEN UP, this is the key point! Do not move from your chairs and look forward at all times! Keep your feet on the ground and your hands on your handrests! You don't have to do that now, but make sure you do it when I tell you! You're going to hear the intercom come on and they'll say some things. You don't worry about that, we'll tell you what to do and when to do it. Do you all understand?"

"Yes, sir." we half-heartedly responded.

"Okay. Keep still and keep quiet now, I don't want to yell to be heard."

A few minutes passed as people looked around. Then the intercom came on.

"All jump station leaders, vox in with status. Repeat. All station leaders, vox in with status."

The gruff man held his vox in his hand, listening to the scratchy words coming out of it. "Station Charlie-Three here. Head count satisfied and armsmen present."

Some more words came out, what I presumed were other stations checking in. Once they stopped, the intercom came back.

"All personnel, we're cleared to perform a Warp jump. Follow your jump station leader's orders. Beginning Warp jump protocols."

"Everyone put your feet on the ground and hands on your handrests! Remember, look forward and keep your butt in your seat until I tell you otherwise!"

As I complied, I saw the armsmen spread out across the room until nobody was unobserved. They rested their submachine guns on their shoulders and grabbed onto a handrail hanging from the ceiling that I hadn't seen. The station leader did the same, though his hand had his vox in it.

Suddenly, I felt something electric pass by me. I knew the others felt it as well with the murmuring.

"Don't talk unless I'm telling you to talk! That feeling will pass, just relax!" the leader shouted.

Intellectually, I knew what it was. The drive was creating the Warp portal ahead of the ship, and the energy to do so passed through most of the hull to do that. But knowing that the air would be saturated with charged elements didn't make the feeling any less jarring.

It would take roughly 45 seconds for the portal to form completely. More energy would pass through us as that time elapsed, and I felt that without a doubt as my hair stood up slightly.

The ship pushed forward noticeably, jerking us a bit. Normally, you would not feel that since acceleration or deceleration would be slow. If it was perceivable, then they had gone from inactive engines to full burn in a matter of seconds.

And then…nothing. I heard a few people take deep breaths, the ones who hadn't raised their hands to indicate inexperience with this procedure, but the electric feeling was replaced with nothing, bringing us back to normal.

Still, I obeyed the instructions of the leader and kept my face forward.

After a minute, the intercom came back to life. "Station leaders, report."

The sole vox crackled once more with repeated but slightly inaudible words. "Station Charlie-Three here. No issues to report," our leader said when it was his turn.

After the vox quieted down, the intercom came to fill its place. "All personnel, we have successfully transitioned into the Warp with no issues reported anywhere. The Emperor was with us this day. Resume your usual duties."

++++

Unfortunately, I wasn't allowed to return to my work just yet. Halfway there, I was alerted that I was being summoned to the bridge. I pulled out my map to figure out how to get there, then enjoyed another slow and boring elevator ride.

When I exited, I was greeted by a quartet of guards, their guns at ease and fingers off the trigger. At the sight of me, they quieted their conversations.

"Excuse me, I was ordered to come to the bridge," I explained.

"Yes, you're expected, sir. Go ahead," one of them declared, gesturing for me to pass through the double doors on my left.

The bridge itself was large, easily large enough to host several hundred, with a lower section for normal officers and a raised portion near the back for the captain. From the top, Ramirez waved me up to where he stood.

"Magos," he acknowledged as I approached, turning towards me.

"Sir. How can I help you?"

"Tell me, do you know our history with Warp jumps?"

"You mean humanity's, or…"

"I mean this ship."

"Oh. Then, no."

"Well, it has not been pleasant. We have thankfully not had any failures, stories about those are painfully not rare enough. But we have had issues."

"What kind?"

"I have no name for it. But rest assured that everyone on this ship has felt a moment that is smeared across time for longer than it should be, where our skin turns hot and cold and feels compressed or stretched at the same time. More than a few are permanently shaken from what they experience. It only happens when the Warp drive is activated."

"That's not good. Have there been any…incursions?" I had no better way to dance around the topic.

"An incursion? Explain."

Wait, that would be the Gellar Field generator, not the Warp drive. "Never mind, it is a separate issue. I am glad you have not faced it as those tend to be more destructive."

He stared at me for a moment. "…Regardless, this has been going on ever since the ship was put into service. We implemented the jump stations as a precaution against worse outcomes, but also to ensure that anyone who is mentally scarred can be identified easier."

"Makes sense. But…I didn't feel something like that?"

"Neither did I, and that is why you're here. I wanted to know why we suddenly were not feeling it. Was it a fluke, or something more? And then I found your report about the Warp drive."

"Ah, that. Yes, I know what you're referring to, sir."

"Tell me what would have happened if that issue with the 'power stutter', as you called it, wasn't addressed."

"I can't be too sure since it's not easy to predict. But…oh, I see. The issue might be a symptom of that, yes."

"And you don't know why, do you."

"I do, actually. Or I can at least offer a hypothesis. When the drive is activated, it projects a tremendous amount of energy ahead of the ship to open the portal into the Warp. Because of this, there is a conversion happening from that energy into Warp energy. Imagine streams coming from the drive that are then fused with equivalent streams in the Warp.

If the drive stutters due to a power failure, then the failing stream is overpowered and pulls back, but it drags the Warp energy back with it, causing that energy to pass through the ship. Even momentarily, it can cause severe strain as humans are not made to resist even the slightest of its power."

That made him pause for nearly 10 seconds as he processed what my answer. He took a deep breath, then sighed. "So…you're telling me we did all that because our drive needed some new wires?"

"What?"

"In your report, you said that you had to replace a few wires because they were burnt out. Assuming that's why we were facing this issue, I can't help but laugh. Something so trivial had us worried for so long…" he leaned against the railing, looking down slightly at the crew, as if he was thinking about something. "How easy was it to find this problem?"

"Not easy, but not hard either. I knew how the components interacted, so the drive's stuttering probably had to do with power. I decided to check all the cables by opening their coverings. That was when I smelt the burnt wires and realized what was going on. To be safe, I just replaced the entire cable."

"And that will not cause any problems?"

"It shouldn't. I checked the interface between the software and hardware as well, they're drawing exactly the power they need to operate."

He stood up straighter now. "Magos Acerak, well done. You have solved an issue I did not believe could be solved. However, I want you to pay close attention to the Warp drive and Gellar Field generator during this time. Feel free to disregard claims on your time from other matters, those two are your primary concern until we exit the Warp."

"Understood, sir. How long are we expected to be in here?"

"The navigator tells me two weeks."

++++

"Oh, man, you're gonna love this."

"It sounds like it, from what you're telling me," I said with a grin as Nigel clapped my back.

We stood in a long line, easily stretching around the corner behind us towards the elevator. If it moved at the pace it had when we joined, then those people who were just now arriving would have to wait 20 minutes to get close to the entrance like we were currently.

We shuffled forward slowly over the next few minutes until we were finally at a pair of double doors. One for leaving, one for entering. This area was located near the dead center the ship, below the floor where my room was but above the habitation of the bondsmen.

"Gentlemen!" the man at the entrance door, dressed in a black formal suit, said towards us. "By yourselves?"

"Yeah, yeah. We're both old enough to handle it all, I promise."

"Sure. Head through here and you should find everything on your left. Bathrooms are just down this corridor to your right."

"Thank you," I replied, as we entered. There was a green neon sign indicating the bathrooms like he said. I turned to Nigel as we continued on, "So-" I shut up as soon as we turned the corner.

I had been expecting something small, perhaps a few tables for cards or maybe board games for several people to play.

This? This was a full-on party.

I could easily tell there were more than a hundred people here already, but they did not come close to filling the space. Dozens of large rectangular plastic tables, draped with brightly colored plastic covers, filled the room, but with space for two people to sit back-to-back and get up as needed.

On the left, inlayed into the wall itself, was the kitchen. A faint but tantalizing aroma came from it, promising hot and delicious food along with refreshing ice-cold beverages. I saw chefs rush around in there from the scant look I got between the line of people looking to self-serve from the buffet.

"Come on, I see my friends!"

I followed Nigel as we wove around tables until we arrived at one near the middle, but on the side opposite the kitchen. Sitting here were seven others, comprised of five men and two women.

"Nigel!" a bald man said with what sounded like a Russian accent. "Who is this?"

"This is Acerak. He's part of the Mechanicum and joined us recently."

"Hi there," I greeted.

"Nice to meet you…er, Magos?" the man questioned.

"Yes, I'm a magos. Nice to meet you too."

"Well, go get your dinner so we can get to the better stuff!" one of the women, a blonde with some facial wrinkles, suggested.

"Good idea. Acerak, come with me!"

We joined the food line and waited as this line moved slowly as well, made more agonizing by my awoken stomach and the mouthwatering aroma. Red plastic compartment plates sat in a nearly-depleted stack, but Nigel and I both got one before someone came out with more.

The buffet's contents were a mixture of recognizable and unrecognizable. Small placards informed me of what each container held.

On the recognizable side, I saw bone-in chicken wings as long as the distance from my wrist to the tip of my fully outstretched middle finger, steaming yellow rice with vegetable slices, a black bean curry, noodles mixed with small cubes of meat and eggs, and spiced sausage chunks mixed into mashed potatoes.

Among the unrecognizable dishes, I found some interesting things. Zatoya appeared to be hairy brown bun. To its left was something called Salade Nicoise that had big chunks of tomatoes, eggs, olives, and a healthy dose of some oil. Further along were cups with pre-served amounts of something soup-like named Bukha.

There were more, of course, and I made sure to take a sample of each, careful to not take too much if I could avoid it. It seemed to be the custom here, with people taking small portions but taking some of everything. I assumed they would just come back if they wanted.

I grinned when I saw a small table at the end of the line containing cans of Kool-aid. Not pouches, but literal soda cans labeled as such and even featuring the living pitcher that was their mascot. I made sure to grab it and stuff it in my deep pocket so I could hold my heavy plate with both hands.

"Got everything you need?" Nigel asked.

"Yeah. We can go back for more if we want, right?"

"I guess, but the lines tend to be long no matter when you go. They usually shut down the kitchen and then you still have people waiting."

"I'll keep that in mind for next time then. Oh well."

We sat down at the table with his friends, who made some space for us even though there was no need. The conversation resumed as if we hadn't interrupted it. I let the words flow over me as I ate the bounty in front of me. It wasn't miraculous, but definitely better than the normal cuisine offered to me.

"No way, man! I've seen Herman Toustain in person, he's completely natural. He even told me his work-out regiment."

"You're insane! The man's biceps are large enough that he could compete with an Astartes, there's no way that's normal. Claire, back me up here."

"Yeah, no way his form is completely natural. Has to be doing something."

"Like what!? You have to be real old money to even get close to the gene cults!"

"He can just use steroids, retard."

"No, no way. He said he gets tested at random all the time!"

I whispered to Nigel. "Who are they talking about?"

"Herman Toustain. You know, the guy from the movies?"

"What movies?"

"You've never seen a Toustain movie?"

"No, never. Are they any good?"

"Oh, this is gonna be a special night!" He turned to the table, speaking up to get their attention. "Hey, who's doing what later? Movie? Kim, movie?"

"Huh?" Kim asked. Despite her name, she appeared Middle Eastern.

"Who's seeing the movie tonight? Acerak hasn't seen it, I figure we can all watch it."

"Which movie are we talking about? 'Cause we saw Almoner's Lot last time and it fucking sucked!" another man chimed in. "No kids' movies, come on!"

"Nah, the Toustain one."

"I'll pass, I've seen it enough. It's kind of boring now," Kim replied.

"Yeah, but we've got a new friend here! It's like a rite of passage!" Nigel counterargued. That turned the rest of them to a lukewarm acceptance. "If we're watching it, we need to hurry then. It starts in like 20 minutes. Take your time, but eat faster, buddy."

++++

Three hours later, I walked out of the surprisingly well-built make-shift theatre in tow with Nigel and his friends.

I was a thoroughly changed man by my experience.

All Aboard the Occident Caravan featured Hercules Petersburg (Toustain's character), an economically destitute man all his life as he attempted to make his way to Occident. It was supposedly a mythical city in which there was no poverty and a man willing to work could rise to whatever station he was able to. The only way he could get there was via the titular caravan, a collection of old-fashioned, fuel-burning cars and trucks.

It was a wonder in every frame, with authentic baubles, tapestries, medical issues and more that captured the essence of the lands he traveled to. The sounds immersed me further into the world as the folk music, slang, slurs, and other audio pieces enriched the experience.

Toustain was unique in the amount of characterization he was given as the main character, but this did not mean others were relegated to being second-class. If they spoke, there was a sense that they were simply being what their roots told them to be, not that they were merely filling a role.

The plot was equally well-developed and intriguing, featuring a murder amongst the upper-class passengers. Toustain was a man masquerading as belonging to their group after having taken some discarded clothing, claiming himself to be a "man who solved many murders".

None of this was surprising to me, I was familiar with the character of Hercule Poirot and his adventure on the Orient Express. What was surprising, and perhaps funny, however, was that Poirot would have undoubtedly jumped upon seeing the most notable difference between him and Toustain's character.

Namely, that the latter fucked. A lot.

This movie was not just a murder mystery, it was a downright pornographic film with how much attention was given to explicit sex scenes. Even Agatha Christie's original plot was slightly changed around it – the people responsible for the murder were all men and Petersburg learned of their past with the victim after he seduced and thoroughly exhausted their wives, sisters, or mothers. A mother and sister in one case.

In the end, he made it to Occident, solved the mystery, and earned his keep as a popular prostitute, to the cheers and applause of the audience.

Man, this future was weird.

Most offerings are publicly acceptable for you. This batch includes one that is not.

Take your gifts, immigrant.

13 days after we entered the Warp, we prepared to exit it. Once more, this required undergoing the jump station protocol, something much smoother for me now that I knew what to do. It ended up being another smooth transition between dimensions. The ship was once more in real space, and everyone looked much happier for it.

I was ecstatic that I hadn't gone insane in the transition.

It was an irrational fear, there wasn't any more danger in transitioning between the dimensions than there was in just being in the Warp. The inhabitants might try to kill you, but that happened in the Materium too.

The reason for this fear had to do with what I had drank this morning.

A few days ago, I'd awoken and found a plastic cup in my bathroom. The liquid inside…no, not a liquid. The remnants of a fucking demon, yes, that was the better description. The remnants swirled and swished gently within despite no outside interference.

My fears skyrocketed when I leaned in closer and confirmed that, yes, the cup or whatever was within was whispering to me. The detached portion of my brain filled in the details, and I knew I had a real problem on my hand.

I had no idea how to safely dispose of this thing. Would dumping it in the drains leave the demon alive? If I ejected it into space, would it remain cogent no matter how much time passed? Storing it indefinitely wasn't really a solution either, the amount was equivalent to a full cup of coffee and I also couldn't risk it mixing with other cups of itself. That it only appeared every five days was a marginal benefit, the number of cups could add up fast.

I made it a point to drink the cup before going to bed to avoid being called out for suspicious behavior. Not only was the liquid extremely bitter, but the first time I drank it, I instantly fell back and hit my head and back against the bathroom door as my mind was assaulted by images. Countless of them flashed through me, each carrying an intense feeling that was fully shared with me. Nearly 10 minutes passed before I was conscious enough to even consider moving.

I was at least satisfied that the demon within was extinguished when the last dregs passed down my throat, if my understanding of the perk's implication was correct.

Still, there had been some useful things to come out of that day, chief among them being a tremendous amount of knowledge on creating modular but robust technology.

Let me explain.

Out of some inertia, I'd been working on an improved astropathic relay. The flaws with the current design…well, "flawed" wasn't the right word.

"Rudimentary" was better. The relay aboard this ship was fairly standard and state of the art as far as astropathic relays went, but that just meant it was slightly more reliable in function. Otherwise, it was very barebones.

Astropathic communication relied on an astropath to psychically "shout" their message into the Warp. Now, you could direct your shouts and the nature of the Warp meant you could generally reach the person/ship you were trying to reach. Ignoring time, the premise was certainly consistent. People had also discovered how they could strengthen or encrypt the message, but that was irrelevant at this point.

The issue is that astropaths were generally not strong enough to do any of it without help. The barrier between the Materium and the Warp was enough to deter any efforts at psychic interstellar communication, so you needed a setup which was more sensitive to the Warp and alleviate the large barrier to Warp entry. Some relied on specially designed rooms, others on items perceived to be boosters, and so purpose of the relay was to shoulder some of the burden and also expand the capability of the astropath.

But the fact that there was all this elaborate procedure and long history of trying to improve didn't mean people were doing more than the barebones. Even the relays were just relying on adamantium's status as the cost-effective Warp-conductive material (it was high, but you could get more expensive or rarer materials). So the relay helped the astropath in the most dumb manner possible. If the astropath tried, the relay would do what it could to help. There was no inherent protection and even the help was largely weak.

Now, the modular construction knowledge I had made me very optimistic that I could start addressing some issues. Firstly, providing surge protection.

An astropathic relay was naturally sensitive to the Warp's proverbial tides. If too much of its power moved through the area while the relay was active, the Warp's energy would flood the relay's structure, convert itself to electricity, and burn out the machinery.

The solution was the Warp sink I was prototyping. The basic idea was to create a container for Warp energy that wouldn't require active maintenance i.e no one had to watch the thing constantly. Unlike the relay, this wouldn't need adamantium for construction, plain steel could do. Any material, for that matter.

The key innovation was the use of hexagrammatic wards. Or rather, the characters they were made of. If you understood the characters and what they did, you could generally do whatever you wanted with Warp energy. So, I treated it like any other programming language. A daemonic incursion, after all, was only slightly worse than a memory leak, right?

…Best not to tempt fate.

There were over 35 million characters in this language, to say nothing of words that could be constructed as a result. For anyone attempting to understand this language, they'd need decades with a clear hypothesis and good equipment to test it. I cheated this requirement by having the language blasted into my mind.

Thus, I planned to introduce a hopefully robust piece of "code" that would handle the dumping of energy from the relay if it exceeded safe tolerances. Then, once it was deemed safe to dump that energy back out, a low-power mode could be used to slowly drain the sink. The amount of energy that could be stored would be entirely up to the maintainers, you would simply be able to attach another container to the system and it would handle it.

At this moment, shortly after the transition back to the Materium, the shape was complete. I was starting with a hollow cube the size of my two fists put together. The cooled object wasn't as heavy as it seemed despite its thick walls, so I was able to carry it with slight effort to my bench and place it under a magnifying lens.

Now came the tedious part. There was nothing that could automatically etch the cube with the precision manner I wanted, which meant this had to be manual. That meant I had to carefully look over it as I did it manually.

With a deep breath, I picked up a thin and razor-sharp pen-sized diamond pick and slowly began writing upon the top side.

It took four hours to complete the etching on half the faces, each character written as small and with consistent depth as I could manage. By this point, however, I knew my hand would cramp if I did more. I was honestly surprised I had even managed this much.

I decided to leave it for the time being and pick up on the few tickets I'd received today.

++++

"Ah, Magos."

"First Mate," I said in acknowledgement. There were 15 of us standing in this hangar. Ahead of us was a fueled and ready-to-depart transport, the same type I had arrived in. "What happened?"

"I'll tell you once we're onboard. Come quickly now."

I followed in his steps as everyone got into the transport. I could see that most of them were just guards that normally patrolled the ship, but there was one that wasn't. She was an East Asian woman dressed in a similar style of clothing.

The ramp closed behind us. Once the pilot confirmed everyone was strapped in, the craft suddenly jerked as it rose abruptly and took off.

I waited about 10 seconds before turning my head back to Ramirez. "So, what is this about?"

"Our records said Tarantulon-the planet, not the system-requested aid prior to the siege, but it couldn't be attended to for obvious reasons. We're going now to see what the issue is, though I've been told it wasn't a severe issue. However, no one was able to make any contact with them in the hours since our arrival, and we are most definitely in range to do it. Our astropath, Lin," he gestured to the woman I had seen, "says she cannot get in touch with any other astropath on the world. So I thought it would be best to have you along and see if there was any possible technological failure."

"I see. Alright. How long until we arrive?"

"I was told roughly 15 minutes. The Mandeville radius was thankfully small, and we were able to set a fast pace towards the world itself."

Just then a red light flashed above and to my right. Next to it was a speaker mounted on the wall. The pilot's voice came through and warned us that we were about to hit the atmosphere.

I grabbed my straps a moment later as the craft began to shake noticeably, sometimes violently. My head bounced and I kept my eyes closed to avoid a headache.

A few seconds later, everything stabilized, but I could feel the air rushing past the craft.

Three minutes later, I felt the craft slow down and something mechanical whine at the bottom of the transport.

"Landing in 30 seconds," the pilot informed us. The craft was no longer moving forward, instead floating down gently…only to thump hard against the ground. "My deepest apologies for that. It should be safe to exit. Shall I lower the ramp?"

"Yes, go ahead," Ramirez ordered.

The ramp slowly lowered until it also thumped against the ground, though not as powerfully.

I removed my straps and went to get out, but a man next to me put his hand on my shoulder. "Just a moment, Magos. Let us step out first and make sure everything's fine."
"Oh, yeah, sorry. Go ahead."

They descended leaving Ramirez, Lin, and me within. A few moments later, we heard the same man say, "All clear, sir."

"Then let's go." With those three words, I followed him and the astropath down the ramp.

Something I hadn't considered was just how much I'd acclimated to the insides of the ship. The electric humming or odd machine sounds in technology I'd only learned about recently. The recycled, sterile, and slightly crisp cool air or the noxious stench of oil. The flat metal walls and plastic chairs, the latter mostly without cushioning.

Replace one of those things and it would just be weird. Replace all and it was like suddenly teleporting between two places.

My robes suddenly flapped. Not strongly, but enough to be noticed. My first deep breath of the breezy air was a kind mixture of salt and earth. My body was warmed by the local sun, whose light bore down hard.

The land welcomed the last of those. Or rather, its rooted inhabitants did. Plants bloomed all around us, perhaps 20-30 meters below. An ocean of every color surrounded us, from the most lively of yellow to the passionate red to calm blue. No, not an ocean, but a field. I could make out the ordered lines the plants were undoubtedly centered around, though the fauna bent and turned however it wished.

Every single one of these plants was strong in the most primitive manner possible: size. Upright they stood, easily thrice my own height. Their leaves, I estimated, would have covered my torso with only slight trouble. The petals were similar in surface area, but longer and thinner instead.

Even the rest of the party had stopped.

"It's quite a sight, isn't it?" Lin asked rhetorically. "You rarely see such natural wonder such as this."

"Certainly not on Terra," Ramirez pointed out. "For that matter, I wonder if there's any greenery even left."

"Do not miss the flowers for the forest," Lin said, her small smile marking her wordplay as intentional.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Ramirez said with his own grin. "Have you ever seen anything like it, Magos?"

"No, nothing, uh, nothing like this," I answered. "It's amazing to see."

"It is, but we can't delay. We need to head to Anje."

"Anje?" I asked.

"The capital. At least, as far as I was told." He pointed along the wide dirt path we were parked on towards the side. I followed his finger until I saw what he was referring to.

It was a city. From this distance, I could make out that it wasn't very tall, there was nothing resembling anything like a skyscraper, but there might have been small-to-medium sized towers. I could make out shorter walls as well, some kind of red-brown color.

Suddenly, I realized I was the straggler as everyone else started down the gentle slope downward. I hurried to catch up, almost tripping on a rock buried deep in the dirt.

20 minutes later, we were within a stone's toss of the walls. Their height now came out to perhaps four to five meters. I could make out, if I squinted, the rectangular edges of each brick that made them up. To our right was a square wooden gate and we walked towards it.

Nothing happened as we got close enough to touch it. We could hear activity on the other side, but not heading towards us.

"Hello?" Ramirez called out. "Is anyone there?"

Someone was. It took a few moments, but we heard something like muffled steps on the other side that seemed to be climbing up steps to the top of the wall. A head poked out on the gate's left, then ducked back. We heard something being said on the other side, but I didn't recognize the language. I heard what sounded like wood creaking, and we all backed away as the gate swung inward and to our right.

A man approached us, and I got my first look at the world's citizens. He wore a wide conical hat that looked to be made of straw. His complexion was mostly clear, which was good as his skin, while tanned, made a few marks stand out. His shirt wasn't exactly a shirt, but more like a robe that came to his groin, while his baggy shorts came down to past his knees. His lower legs and feet were bare, with brown sandals wrapped around the latter. He stared at us expectantly.

"Hello there," Ramirez said with a nod.

The man spoke something short, then repeated it. We all looked at each other, and the man seemed to understand that we did not speak his language.

Ramirez tried again, but once more we got back unknown words.

It appeared this would be our awkward stopping point until someone appeared behind the man in a slow jog.

This someone bore no hat, but sported a fully armored chest, waist, and pair of shoulders. Beneath that medieval armor was a clean aquamarine not-shirt, similar to the one worn by the first man. The newcomer's was knee-length, and the rest of his legs were covered by baggy pants of a cleaner material. His head was covered with armor as well, and on his left hip was attached a sword in a scabbard. Finally, he wore full shoes with turned-up ends.

The new man spoke fast at the one who had opened the gate, causing him to bow and back away until his back touched the gate.

"You Imprium?" came the armored man's blunt query.

"What?" Ramirez asked.

"You. Imp.pre.um."

"Ah, yes. We are from the Imperium. We have come-"

The man's raised vertical palm stopped him. "Come. Follow me."

With another glance at each other, we stepped into a loose formation and stepped into the man's path.

The air was perfectly cool and gentle, neither stagnant nor noticeable. The candles in sconces around us were strictly minimal, lighting up what parts the natural light from above could not reach well. Incense sticks awakened anyone who smelt their pervasive but clear smoke. Small stone tables, practically stumpy columns, hosted intricate vases. A magnificent and giant tapestry hung from the wall on the opposite side, a gold background upon which a pair of red stylized plants, as large as their real-life counterparts outside, grew on the sides, their stems curving outwards before turning around so the flowers angled inward and down, as if shielding or venerating whoever sat between them.

And yet, I was discomforted. It had been years since I'd sat in seiza. The position involved standing on your knees, then leaning back until your legs were folded beneath you and your butt rested on your heels. It was easy to slump your posture if you weren't careful. There was thankfully a cushion beneath me, but it was not as giving as I needed.

Unfortunately, I had to endure it, lest I appear the odd one out compared to Ramirez and Lin. They sat like I did on my right, the three of us in a line while the guards stood behind us. Their guns were in hand, but the safeties were on.

Opposing us within this cozy but large room was a man who looked exactly like Pai Mei. His neatly done hair was slightly darker, but it was otherwise a spitting copy. On his right was an obese man in black robes with red flowers. He had white face paint except around his eyes, which were done with heavy black eyeliner.

Behind both were the all the men who had escorted us here, and both had been sitting here before we even entered.

There was a brief moment of awkward silence, before Ramirez spoke up. "Greetings, I am Eduardo Ramirez, First Mate of the Sanguine Spear. To my right is Astropath Lin, to my left is Magos Acerak."

The two men didn't react. The obese one turned his head slowly before speaking with the old man. Then, he turned back to us. "Greetings. You are in the presence of Jin Yuhan, father of the Sun-gazing Flower Sect. He regrets that he cannot speak with you directly, so this one will translate between you." He paused. "What brings you to our world?"

"The Imperium heard your request for aid some time ago and regretted that it could not come sooner. We have come to answer your request."

At that, the fat man looked worried as he translated for the elderly one. Father Jin responded without any change in his facial expression.

"Father Jin is disappointed that the Emperor's servants are so lax in responding to the requests of his people."

If the rebuke bothered Ramirez, he didn't show it. "Unfortunately, there has been a severe issue that the Imperium had to deal with. I will explain." His account of the events of the Horus Heresy was dry and a bit light on detail, but it did a good job of capturing the severity of the problem. He impressed this upon Father Jin and the translator quite well, in my opinion.

"Father Jin understands perfectly. Civil war, and led one's own child at that, are inconceivable and despicable. He offers his condolence."

"Thank you. However, we have still not heard what issue you required assistance with," Ramirez replied.

"It has to do with the tower the Imperium built."

"The tower?"

"Yes, the one which allows us to perform mei."

"…My apologies, I don't know what that means."

"No, please accept this one's apologies. It is the tower we were told would let us speak to the Emperor from far away."

"Ah, you mean your astropathic array?" Ramirez asked.

"Yes, yes, that. We sought your assistance as it was struck by lightning and unusable. We do not know how to fix it."

"Alright. Can you have someone show us the tower, so we can at least examine it?"

The interpreter nodded once. "Of course."

By this, he meant himself, as the four of us found ourselves outside once more, heading away from where we had landed and through another set of gates that barred movement into or out of the city. The man moved fast for someone that large. Accompanying us were 10 guards, marching behind us and at the side as they announced us and ordered the locals to stay clear of the procession.

When we finally arrived at the burnt tower, I realized that their description hadn't capture just how bad the situation was. I had thought that I would just need to replace some wiring, but this was much more severe.

I approached the downed giant, lying flat on one side as flowers grew around it. Though my vision was obscured, I could make out that the beams had crumpled and bent upon impact as the tower collapsed, thankfully not towards the city walls themselves. It looked just tall enough to cause damage if it fell that way.

A faint and linger stench burned my nostrils, but I endured it as I ran my hands over the charred and warped metal. It was cold and bumpy to the touch. I felt my fingers rub against a melted wire on the underside as well. Something sharp pricked me and I withdrew my hand. As I did, I noticed blue shards on the ground. They were fragments of solar panels.

I walked back to Ramirez, Lin, and the interpreter. "Completely destroyed."

"Meaning there's nothing you can do, or…?" Ramirez asked.

"Well, let's first be clear about this," I said, gesturing to the metallic remains. "This is just scrap now. The tower, the wiring, the solar panels, all of it. We have to collect it all and either dispose of it or recycle it."

"That means we need to go back to Terra and bring a functioning one?" Lin asked.

"Not necessarily. Everything needed to actually build it is available to us. The structure itself can be broken down, melted, and reforged into pieces that can be welded together again. We have enough wiring to make it work aboard the ship, same with the solar panels."

"And how long would it take you to do that?"

"Maybe…three weeks? I've never done it before, but I'm confident in how the process would work."

"Hmm. Astropath, your thoughts?"

Lin shrugged. "Even if I made contact with Mars today, there is no guarantee they would start work on it immediately. We would also have to travel there and come back. It doesn't seem like it would hurt to let the magos try what he wants."

"That sounds reasonable. Go ahead and do what you need, but critical or major issues aboard the ship take priority."

"Understood, sir."

++++

A heavy piece of an adamantium bar banged against the side of the melting unit, making me wince. The mechanical claw paused as my fingers didn't move on the controlling tablet. I made it slowly move the bar away, then waited until it stopped swinging even slightly, before slowly raising it further so it wouldn't hit anything once I dropped it.

When it fell into place, I closed the door on the unit and started it up again. There was no indication that anything was working save for an alert on the tablet that a machine identified by a long string of characters was active.

I had 15 minutes to spare as this bar melted into something moldable, so I sat down once more and turned my attention to the cube in front of me. It was another of the Warp sinks I had created.

By my estimation, it would take roughly 10 of these to withstand the surge of a small Warp storm, 50 for a medium, and 200 for a large one. Of course, each of those were rarer than the previous one by an order of magnitude, so I knew, by some unknown intuition, that I was covering 70% of surges by proofing for just the small storms.

I had two cubes made and tested. At the pace I was going, there would be no time lost once the reforging of the structure's pieces was complete.

++++

Time passed slowly, my days spent sitting in at my bench for a few hours to make my warp sinks, then an hour for lunch and to let my hand relax, then back to more etching. Each day, another piece of array was created. The last things to make were the solar panels, which, combined with their testing, would take up most of my waking hours.

Exactly three weeks after my initial assessment, I and some helpers were flying back down. The storage of my transport was taken up by various materials, primarily solar panels and wires tucked away safely inside secure boxes.

Another three transports were flying with us. This was due to the size of the array's metal structure. It couldn't be built aboard the ship and taken out, so instead, it was being carried component-wise. Each transport had one of the slanted legs and one part of the main tower hanging below them, carefully balanced to minimize the effect of sway.

Over the target area, the pilots coordinated a cautious drop so that there was no chance of a component falling on another. A bit too cautious, in my opinion, but better to spend longer moving undamaged components.

When the pieces were dropped, my own transport landed nearby as my helpers, a collection of personnel aboard the ship, handled the boxes.

"Careful with those. The First Lieutenant is paying close attention to us," I told them as I stepped past onto the soil once more. The sun was just barely above the horizon now, but it illuminated the ground perfectly. What shadows existed were weak.

A roar of jets alerted me to movement above, and I saw the three other transports take off back to the ship.

A dozen pairs of eyes looked at me, standing amongst the component boxes, tools, two ferrocrete mixers and bags of mixture, and four of the anti-gravity platforms.

"Let's do one last sweep of the area. I think we've already found everything, but it doesn't hurt to check."

As expected, nothing turned up. I'd combed this area four times already, but it wasn't good to leave sharp metal fragments or splinters around. The dirt had been turned over and over as we did, creating a black spot in the sea of giant flowers.

So, first things first, we needed to put in the foundation. This was relatively simple as we'd already dug the rectangular hole for a ferrocrete base previously. Now, we rolled the mixers next to the hole and filled them with mixture until it was full. Once we poured in water, the machines began churning. Slowly at first, then at a steady and brisk pace. After a few minutes, we turned them and let the wet stuff pour out. Another bag and some water went in, and we had another batch ready to go after a few minutes.

Meanwhile, eight of my helpers had taken to using the anti-gravity platforms to make the legs of the base stand up. I welded the rods that connected them.

30 minutes later, the legs were connected and the foundation poured, though not set. A few centimeters had been left off the top to account for the displacement of the legs into the ferrocrete. Now, the transport started its engine and hovered above the constructed base. We tied some dangling cables to the base's frame, and watched as the transport bucked a bit while trying to lift this strain. It was rated to do so, but this came uncomfortably close to the limit.

It held. Slowly, the base was lifted one meter, then several. Then, just as slowly, the transport carried the frame towards the hole. Once it was aligned, it came down as gentle as a feather. We cheered as the feet sank with a few bubbles into the mixture, then stopped.

"Alright, let's take a break for lunch. But we need to put in the setting agent first," I said. Two people grabbed the thin bag of said agent, a powder that would turn the normally two-day setting process into an hour-long affair. They spread it evenly and liberally until the top of the ferrocrete was totally covered.

We relaxed and enjoyed the weather as we ate and drank, the wind present but not a nuisance. I expected the groans when I told them we needed to get back to work. Thankfully, this part was easier and only took a few people.

With the foundation set and capable of bearing the weight of the tower itself, all that was left was to weld each piece onto it. The transport would dangle the piece in place while I was taken up via the anti-gravity platforms. At each of the four meeting points, I connected the piece to the metal below it. We would then wait and see if the structure remained stable before moving on.

It took a total of two hours to finish this. From my viewpoint, I could see those on the ground cleaning up our trash and then sit in the small pits of shade while playing cards or telling stories.

With the final piece in place, I now had to connect the solar panels to power it. This was trivial, I simply had to angle the panels and connect them to the array's own circuitry. There were some at every level, but all kept far away from anyone trying to throw a rock or do something similar.

At the very top were the warp sinks, all 10 stuck together and nestled away inside a hardened container that was easy to notice and find if you knew about it, but not otherwise. The sun was setting by the time that we finished, but we still cleared everything up and took off long before it hid behind the horizon.

++++

Jin Yuhan held a dinner in celebrate our efforts, one that Ramirez, Lin, and myself were mandated to appear at. His interpreter sat to his right.

"Father Jin is pleased to hear that your efforts were successful, tech-priest," the interpreter relayed.

"Oh, uh, yes, thank you. I was uncertain it could be done, but now you don't thankfully need to wait for a whole new one to be requested and delivered."

He repeated what I said, I assumed. The sect's patriarch did not react beyond four words.

"Father Jin…wishes to know what your plans are now. Do you have other business in this area?"

"No, we were responding to your request. If it is satisfied, we will depart promptly."

When he was informed, the patriarch relaxed a bit.

"That said, I intend to-"

Whatever Ramirez was saying was interrupted by a shout, then several as the door to the dining room suddenly slammed open. The walls shook slightly and a few vases in the corner trembled but thankfully did not topple.

A large figure suddenly slammed into Lin's seat, sending both of them prone to the ground. Lin's head struck the table as it happened, causing a filled plate of thin sauces to spill some of its contents.

Ramirez was on the person in an instant, pulling at them with all his strength. A second later, the interpreter did the same. Two men and a woman in a pink silk dress and her hair done very elegantly ran in.

With their combined strength, it was just enough to get the person off Lin. The two new men held the figure…no, the girl, with both arms roughly. They swiftly carried her away, but not before I heard her babble words through tears and ruined makeup. She screamed at Lin only to be slapped hard by the pink dress woman. Said woman said terse words into the room before following the girl being dragged away now.

The room was frozen as everyone processed what just happened, until the interpreter spoke up again. "I am deeply sorry that this happened. Please, sit, and let us make sure you are not harmed."

"I'm fine," Lin said, though she clutched the part of her head that had struck the table hard. Her eyes appeared a bit unfocused.

"We will bring a healer for you-"

"No, it's fine! It hurts, but I think that should go away soon."

The interpreter awkwardly reseated himself like Ramirez. After a moment, the latter spoke up. "Can you please explain what just happened? Why did that girl attack our astropath?"

The patriarch barked out harsh words. I hadn't even considered him yet, but now the fury on his face was obvious.

"She, ah, is Father Jin's daughter. She has been having some trouble with her peers and decided to misbehave for attention. Please, if you would grace us with your continued presence. Let us at least finish our meal together."

The tension didn't dissipate throughout the rest of the silent meal. Both we and they were only too happy to get us out of there, but before we did, Ramirez spoke up once more.

"I almost forgot, but I should tell you something. What Magos Acerak did was not a proper job. It was excellent, but still done out of necessity without proper materials and tools. There may be more of his kind coming in the future to ensure the tower is sturdy and without fault."

The interpreter translated, and Father Jin nodded.

++++

The tension accompanied us long into the flight back to the ship.

"So, how does your head feel?" I asked.

"It hurts a bit, but not much," Lin answered.

"You are going to get looked at. Injuries to the head can have other problems," Ramirez ordered.

"I didn't hit it hard."

"Probably best to get checked out anyways. It can't hurt, but if they find something, it's better to treat it now," I said.

The astropath didn't respond.

After a few moments, I said aloud, "It sucks that we don't know what she was saying. I do wonder why she did that."

"Best to put it out of our heads. It's not a mystery we can solve," Ramirez pointed out.

Lin was silent for a few moments. "Abuse."

"Hmm?" I turned to her.

"That girl was asking me to save her from abuse."

"How do you know that?" I asked.

"We're both astropaths. She's not that strong, but in that moment, she was able to get her message across. I saw how they treat her. Her emotions are easily disturbed, and her psychic powers only exacerbate the problem. They don't like that, so they are very, very strict with her. She also doesn't talk that well and has a weight problem, so some children her age tease her for that as well." Lin leaned back a bit. "She knew that I was going to leave for another planet and wanted to come with us."

"…Damn. That's terrible."

"Indeed. I hope the girl's life gets better. But put it out of your head, Magos. You can't do anything about it, it will only affect your mood negatively."

As the craft breached the atmosphere, I found it too easy to do just that.

An uneventful journey. Perhaps, though, an auspicious start?

Take your gifts, immigrant.

The machine in front of me whirred as the laser arm moved back to its original location slowly to avoid damaging its internal lenses. I waited a minute before opening the front and removing the innards.

In my hands sat a steel cube, etched with the markings of a Warp sink. I held it up against the light for a moment, then brought it closer to my face.

It looked damn near perfect. All the etchings in the right place, not too deep or shallow. But my eyes could be deceived.

I brought the cube to my bench and placed it near a small Bunsen burner-like device. It lacked an intake valve and had a switch at its base. I flicked it and a small ball of energy, no larger than the volume of a penny spun in a circle, appeared over the top hole. It was as bright as a candle, but made of a variety of colors, violently changing shades each moment in a seemingly random manner.

I called it a Warp burner. This was a quick and easy way to generate Warp energy within the Materium. It was too small in power to actually affect anything. The ball wasn't even continuous in existence, the energy instantly dissipating and being replaced by the next fetched batch. The cube's wards had been modified so that it would trigger for such small energy but only in the range of a centimeter or less.

With my right hand, I picked up an unprotected set of wires, a sensor, and a small digital screen on the side, all linked to a breadboard slightly too wide for me to grasp. I turned it on, the screen turning a somewhat-bright blue with dashes on it, then the number 0 appearing on the left-hand side.

I picked up the cube with my left hand, then moved it over and held it next to the ball, practically touching. At the same time, I moved the contraption in my right closer and angled it so that the sensor was pointing at the cube corner closest to the ball.

For 15 seconds, I waited, watching the ball occasionally flicker.

I took one look at the screen and sighed. No activity the entire time. Another failure, where just micrometers of difference caused the whole cube to be inert and useless.

The machine responsible for my troubles said nothing. I'd constructed the oven-sized thing by converting an existing device that was broken. Patching up the hole and wires, I'd replaced the head of its robotic arm with a laser. The idea was simple: turn the laser on, have it slowly move around in a preconfigured pattern on one face, then let another arm rotate the target cube.

In practice, the failure had to do with the precision of the laser. I had to find a way to get it to etch at a precise and constant depth, something beyond whatever tolerance the original creator had in mind. My solution was to insert a few lenses into the laser apparatus, but it had taken far too long to develop my understanding of lasers and lenses to that point.

So, each day, I tried another lens arrangement. I was getting close now, the error in depth dropping even if the cubes were all equally inert. If there were additional flaws yet unseen, I wouldn't be able to tell until I got a properly functioning cube.

My other project, however, had been much more successful. That was the sensing contraption I was using to monitor a cube's interaction with the ball of Warp energy.

It was, like most of my inventions, rudimentary for what it did. I assumed a certain amount of Warp energy as my base unit, and it told me how many multiples of said unit were present in whatever it was pointed at in a flat 120-degree arc from the sensor point. The range was limited to 85 meters. It was fairly sensitive, however, so it could make out minute differences at any distance within said range. Every 30 seconds, it would refresh the screen. The whole piece was portable, but somewhat heavy for my taste. You could have deluded yourself into thinking it was usable as a last-ditch weapon.

Still, I had nothing but time, and for that I was grateful. The people who ran this ship day-to-day did a good job maintaining it and reporting issues before they became problematic. As such, they had a working knowledge of how to tide things over until I could take a look.

An initial investment in time in finding possible issues with critical systems only I could deal with had paid off well as I found myself lacking any serious work for the last several days. I fixed Anne's Roomba again by turning it off and on yesterday.

I spent another few hours tinkering with the laser head, then set it to begin running once more. It would finish several hours before I awoke the next day. After lunch, I got to work on hand-crafting a Warp sink I knew would work.

We were only a few days from Terra's space now, but I was determined to make the ship's Warp infrastructure protected from most Warp storms. I couldn't get all facilities, but finishing the astropathic array's set of Warp sinks would at least let me have something useful to report.

What I wouldn't report, however, was the now-missing container-sized steel box that had appeared overnight about four meters away from where I sat. I was lucky it didn't drop onto the floor when materializing, or I would probably have had to explain the massive thump everyone would have felt. The whole thing was easily the length of two of the benches I sat on, while the width and height were both three-quarters of a bench-length.

I had panicked for several minutes until an idea poked me in the brain. Now, my build gun was clipped to my waist and actually doing something useful – holding the container in its entirety within. I had been skeptical that it would work, but trying it multiple times proved me wrong. With a button, I hid the giant HUB container.

For good measure, I did the same with all of the other things I couldn't really explain away. The shed-full of vehicle and droid repair parts, the box of computer spikes, the machine that could make any input clothing or armor malleable, and bags of ores and soul gems. All found a spot to sit within the build gun.

I had feared that if there were any surprise inspections carried out as Nigel had mentioned off-hand one day, I would be caught in a very awkward position. I might be able to wave away the bags, but I didn't fancy my chances with any of this stuff. At least now I didn't need to worry about it.

++++

The transition back into real space required we once more wait it out in tense silence. I was the only one in my room not worried. Somewhat arrogant, but I was very confident there would be no more side-effects.

My attitude went unchecked as the ship returned to the Materium (which got a genuine cheer out of everyone), and even for hours afterwards as I held a finalized version of my sensor. It had a purpose-built casing that was both ergonomic and intuitive. A small clip-on cover at the bottom allowed the battery to be replaced, but even constant use would let it work for two days.

I pointed it at the wall, and the small digital screen displayed the word "Measuring…" It beeped when it finished and flashed the final read-out. Near-perfect values everywhere, though the area with the wall showed a slightly higher reading. Understandable, adamantium was more psychically reactive than the air.

A compulsion overtook me. I flicked my wrist as I swung the sensor around as if it were a sword. As I did, I quietly made noises.

Woom! Woom!

Heh, lightsaber.

I went about my day after fine-tuning the Warp sink machine once again for another trial run and was about to pack up for the night when I heard something.

Ding, ding!

I turned my head, trying to understand what that sound was, when I heard it again.

Ding, ding!

Upon my desk, the tablet made a sound. I unlocked it and read the notification.

YOU ARE RECEIVING THIS ALERT DUE TO INACTIVITY ON DESIGNATED AND SECONDARY ACCOUNTS. A NEW MESSAGE CAN BE FOUND IN YOUR INBOX.

I stared at it for a solid 10 seconds. It didn't seem that silly to forward messages to whoever had some nominal claim of expertise to response. If someone went missing or died suddenly, then locking up the system because no one had access carried risks.

The question was, did I dare to open whatever message this was?

…Probably for the best if I did.

Moving over to the terminal proper, I logged in and opened the message. I could have done it on the tablet since it was linked, but something made me anxious about that.

To: BEGLwen2

From: aqkMr5PK@5Yyw5gpM

Subject: Re: Open Issues, v. 4.1

Could be worse. Remember what Dray said about her latest assignment on Terra? Can't be anything more mind-numbing than standing around waiting for digger machines to inevitably break when some idiot to lift a heavy load.

LET THE MOTIVE FORCE GUIDE OUR WEARY SOULS TO OUR LORD.

> I'm seriously considering taking my chances jumping out a hangar airlock and floating back to Mars. I'd rather choke on the dirt than bang my head against this.

>

> PRAISE THE OMNISSIAH IN ALL THINGS.

>> Same shit, different day. Except, OH WAIT, we have three more issues!

>>

>> MAY THE OMNISSIAH BLESS YOUR QUEST FOR KNOWLEDGE.

Attached to the first message in the chain was a set of seven documents detailing the damaged state of six things (two were for the same item, a partially disassembled laspistol). Technical details, pictures, and even a log of failed attempts at fixing each one were included.

My fingers pressed keys instinctively, the words appearing before I had even considered them.

To: BEGLwen2

From: acerak@0d5o6a9s2g

Subject: Re: Open issues, v. 4.1

1. The macrocannon turret is depressed slightly too low. The issue might be that the housing is weakened to the point of separating, with one half disengaging so much that it is squeezing a power cable. Most likely the top part, but both should be checked.

2. The water filtration system is only capable of filtering out a certain amount of contamination. However, there is no way to disable the delivery system completely if clean water cannot be provided. Consider looking at the sensor and controller. Barring that, there's probably not much that can be done without completely redoing the entire plumbing system.

3. The plasma generation vials have been seriously tampered with; the discoloration is proof of that. The assumption must have been that someone would be on hand to constantly monitor them. In order to do this, they must have also suppressed any warnings that are typically generated. But if the whole system was shut down, it would restart with default settings, and those include the previously suppressed safety checks. These are throwing errors and shutting it down pre-emptively to avoid any explosive plasma containment accidents. Replace all the vials with new ones and it should work. If not, something else has also been tampered with.

4. The diagnosis is correct, but checking where the bad power cable isn't as hard as it might seem. You should be able to check connection times across the cable from the generator with a voltmeter. Anything within .003-.004 seconds of ideal time is normal. The moment you find an increased time, you've probably found where to look.

5. Plot the time between each pulse and you'll see that it resembles a wave. It should be constant. Check the power draw on the pulse generator - if that's constant, then look at the timing mechanism in the main controller. If neither of those show any problems, then the problem is elsewhere within the generator.

6. No clue on the pistol, sorry.

++++

Ding, ding!

I paused, then realized what I had just heard and walked over to the terminal.

A NEW MESSAGE CAN BE FOUND IN YOUR INBOX.

To: BEGLwen2

From: aqkMr5PK@5Yyw5gpM

Subject: Re: Open issues, v. 4.1

If I knew, you think I wouldn't tell you? Literally none of us are experts on that shit.

LET THE MOTIVE FORCE GUIDE OUR WEARY SOULS TO OUR MASTER.

> While I'm grateful, I've been trying to understand this explanation for the Gellar field generator problem for the last three hours. I've read it and can follow the instructions, but I don't get how any of it makes sense. Why would it work that way?

>

> PRAISE THE OMNISSIAH IN ALL THINGS.

>> I will confirm that, the advice was 100% correct. I found the pinched wire at the bottom of the turret housing. Thank you very much! No idea who this is, though.

>>

>> MAY THE OMNISSIAH BLESS YOUR QUEST FOR KNOWLEDGE.

>>> Who even is this?

>>> …Is it bad to say I followed the advice anyways? It worked, from what I can tell.

>>>

>>> TO FAIL IN ONE'S DUTIES DISAPPOINTS THE OMNISSIAH.

Reading the full conversation, I began to understand. Whoever I had communicated with had forwarded my response to everyone on this message list. Most were grateful for the clear explanation and advice, but one individual was questioning the Gellar field generator fix I had proposed and explained.

My fingers darted for the keyboard instinctively.

To: BEGLwen2

From: acerak@0d5o6a9s2g

Subject: Re: Open issues, v. 4.1

Hi, I suspect your confusion is because your mental model of the generator's mechanism is inaccurate. The following analogy should be corrective…

I wrote up another two paragraphs, explaining what was going on, what the component did, and why I gave my recommendation. One proofread caught two errors, and I sent my response.

With that taken care of, I returned to testing my latest machine-made Warp sink. I turned the sensor on, held the sink up to the active burner, and waited.

A sigh escaped my mouth when I saw the hauntingly similar results, but then I paused. I decided to run some additional analysis on the numbers I had.

…There was something! It was weak, yes, but the chance that it was just noise was small enough that I strongly suspected I would narrow in on the right setup soon enough.

No perks earned

-----------

Beta'd by sarf.

POV: First Lieutenant Ramirez, shortly after leaving Tarantulon, before the events of Chapter 8

"So, how has it been?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Your time on the ship. How has it been? Have you settled in well?"

"Oh! Yes, perfectly. Thank you."

"Don't thank me, thank your husband. He spent all his time making sure you would be comfortable, I remember perfectly!"

I let the chit-chat between my wife and Captain Abraxis wash against my ears as I looked around the room.

The captain had never been one for decorations, doubly so after his husband passed away. There had only ever been two things he added as his personal touch to the captain's quarters.

The first was a narrow vase glazed dull red. It stood on a small circular stand. If I went closer, I knew I could find a distinctive imperfection left on the left side in the form of two fingerprints.

Mounted on the wall above it, secure in a case, was a meter-tall portrait painting of a man in a captain's uniform. A small boy, exactly five years and 45 days old, sat on the man's right leg and wore a white button-up shirt with green pants. Joy emanated from the boy's expression, matched by a slight smile from the man who he sat on.

Both were gifts from his late spouse.

I had been in this room many times in the past. Each time after the relationship between father and son had deteriorated, the amount of dust had grown, reflecting the captain's own mood. Now, however, the room was spotless. The dust had finally been consigned to the trash after years of accumulation. Even the lighting was brighter than it had been for many years.

Hearing my name, I turned back to the two others. "Sorry, what was that?"

"I was telling the captain that he had the energy of a man much younger. Don't you agree, dear?" my wife asked.

"No, no, you're too kind!" the captain replied with a chuckle. "If anything, I need to try even harder to match the energy of all the young men and women who serve me. Like your husband. He works very hard, you know?"

"Oh, I know! I have to drag him away from his work!" my wife tittered, glancing at me. She knew my devotion to my career.

"I strive to make sure that I provide the same level of guidance and control to the ship that you provided when I was a new officer." I paused for a moment. "Permission to speak freely, captain?"

"Oh, come on, this is a dinner between friends, not a formal event! Please, go ahead!"

"I do think you're looking much younger. Pardon me for saying so, but I think you were stuck in a depressed state for quite some time. I didn't think that would change."

"Ah, well…it's a funny story." He looked around as if checking for any eavesdroppers, then leaned in just a bit. "I think the Emperor gave me a sign."

I tilted my head. "What do you mean?"

He looked at my wife. "I've been having some heart problems every time we took off into the Warp, the kind that I'd never had before. I think it was all the food and drink I was consuming. Not good for the body, that's what the medicae tell me."

"That's terrible," she responded with picturesque concern etched into her face. "But you…got better?"

"Hmm. This time when we Warp jumped, I didn't have any problem. At first, I was confused, but then I realized what had happened – it was our Emperor giving me a clue. He knew that I was living a vice-filled life and reminded me what the cost was. He is so generous, you know, to give me any of his attention. Even after this rebellion when the focus is on more important matters, he took time from his work to notice and communicate with me. How could I not obey his words when he went through that much trouble?"

Many things suddenly clicked in my mind. His dinner choice of a canned fruit and vegetable salad. The conspicuous pouring of wine for my spouse and I, but none of him. The room, cleared of dust and his oppressive mood.

Even the fucking invitation for a social dinner.

"That's…wonderful!" my wife responded. "It's good to see you wanting to improve your health!"

"Yes, well…I am only sad that it took the Emperor himself to remind me of this. He shouldn't have to waste his time reminding us what our duty is."

At that, we smiled, unsure how to react to such words.

When we returned to our quarters, I swiftly undressed, brushed my teeth, and crashed onto our bed, staring up at the ceiling. Not thinking, but unmoving nonetheless.

"Something on your mind?"

I turned to see my wife standing in the bathroom doorway in a blue negligee, her black hair down but still straight. It was the same one she'd worn on our wedding night.

"No, not really."

"Really? Not even after seeing me like this?" she asked. It was a good-faith attempt at acting coy, but she could never pull it off that well.

"Well, now I do. I'm thinking about how beautiful my wife looks when she's in my arms wearing the negligee I gave her."

She gave me a sultry look and sauntered over. I sat up in bed as she climbed on delicately. My arms wrapped around her instinctively as she sat on my legs, knees splayed out on either side of me. "Only beautiful? Where's the man who knew a hundred words to express his desire for me?"

I kissed her neck. "He forgot how needy his wife is."

She slapped me lightly. "How rude!" Her hands pulled my head up so she could kiss me, her hair draping around our connected faces.

"When she lets me feel her long hair or smooth skin, I think about how she doesn't let anyone else do that," I said as I pulled my face back. My hands ran over her back slowly as she stared into my eyes. "When I get to put my arms around her back and keep her near me, I love how she tells me that she's mine." I kissed her again. "When she wears that one negligee, I want her so much that I'd tear it off her just to have her a moment sooner."

She pulled my head closer, dictating the length of the kiss. When she broke it off, she didn't pull back, but shifted her mouth to my ear and whispered, "Well then, show me what you want to do to me."

I grabbed her by the back of her head and back, then spun with force, but controllably. She landed on her back comfortably on the mattress, hair messily spread out over the sheet.

Then, we were enjoined in the oldest act known to man.

When I was spent, I rolled off her and got off the bed. A small pitcher of water was placed on the table, I filled two glasses and brought her the second one.

She took it and drank, then brushed a few hairs stuck to her sweaty face. "Thank you," she said, still breathing a bit deeply.

I took it and placed it back on the table it came from, turned off the lights, then lay beside her once more. The AC had thankfully started, cooling our bodies. For a few moments, the two of us lay in silence.

At least, so I thought. "Hmm? What was that?"

"I said, did you want to try for a baby?"

"…"

"Well?"

"…I don't know."

She turned to face me, propping her head up with her hand. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong."

"So, I just imagined you not looking at me while fucking me?"

The answer was reflexive. "Sorry."

"Just…tell me what's wrong."

I sighed. "I was thinking about what the captain said."

"He said a lot of things."

"Tch! You know what I meant. When he was talking about the Emperor."

"You mean when he acted like that superstitious nonsense was real?"

"The Emperor probably has ways of doing that."

"You and I both know no one on this ship is going to get the Emperor's attention. Not even if there wasn't a damned civil war."

I glanced away. "I know. But I'm…" How could I explain it? Despite her love and support, my wife would never tolerate my attempts at hastening my promotion. At best, she would always be repulsed by this side of me. To be dismayed at the man's rise from his death-spiral into his literal grave was unthinkable.

The first thing that came to my mind was spat out. "I'm trying to understand what it reminded me of."

"You seriously don't know? I thought it was obvious!"

I looked back into her eyes, standing out from the dark just slightly. "What don't I know?"

"He was talking like one of the gutter preachers."

"And when did you hear one of those?"

"Years ago. I was shopping with some friends when a disgusting urine-soaked woman ran into the area and tried to sell her idiocy about how we all needed salvation or something. The arbites didn't get her fast enough."

"How do you even remember that?"

"If you had been there, you'd be haunted by her smell. I almost threw up; I very distinctly remember that much." She turned away and lay on the bed. "Just put it out of your head, okay? Good night."

"Good night."

++++

The day had finally arrived when we were set to end this journey. I stood at my normal position on the rear platform of the bridge.

"Sir, Navigator Michaelangelo says we can begin our exit in one hour."

"Thank you. Proceed," I told the officer who had approached me. As she walked away, I frowned for a moment when I realized she appeared nervous. I took some pleasure in being approachable to those who directly worked under me, it did me no good to appear untouchable.

Indeed, all she'd done was enter the bridge and approach me directly-

A scowl appeared on my face, obvious to anyone who would have looked. But I had something I wanted to confirm. "Helmsman Truesdale, to me, please," I muttered into my comm-bead.

The man left his chair and walked until he stood to my left. "First Lieutenant. What can I do for you?"

I pointed down over the railing to the right. "That officer, the woman with short hair. Do you see her?"

He looked and frowned. "No, I don't think so. Which one, sir?"

"Third row from the back, halfway into it. The black one." I added the last part since she sat next to another woman with short hair but skin the color of caramel.

"Oh, yes. Did she do something wrong?"

"No, I'm wondering how long she's been an officer. Do you recall?"

"Hmm…perhaps three weeks? No, two and a half. She was promoted recently. Why, is something the matter?"

"Yes, yes there is. Who ordered for her to visit Michaelangelo in person?"

His head jerked to look at me. "That happened?!"

"Very likely. She was the one to tell me that we're ready to-"

Suddenly, the overhead speakers crackled. "Attention, all personnel are to be at jump stations in one hour. Repeat, all personnel are to be at jump stations in one hour. This message will be replayed in 30 minutes."

When the speakers went dead again, Truesdale spoke up. "I think it's just a bit of harmless mischief, isn't it?"

"I'll be the first to defend hazing and you know that. But you also know what Michaelangelo is like. I'll not give him any pleasure in his antics to unnerve those unused to his kind."

"I…see. You want me to talk to her and find out who set her up for that?"

"Yes, and remind them and everyone else that they are not to send anyone to Michaelangelo. Let him send one of his servants or use the internal vox like everyone else."

"Will do, sir."

"Thank you. Dismissed."

He made the Aquilla and walked away.

With that settled, all that was left was to wait for the transition back to the Materium. I waited as the minutes counted down. 45, 30, 15, and then less than five.

A steady stream of people had made their way here, and the bridge was technically filled to beyond full capacity. Every officer and their backup was seated near their stations. In three lines (two on each side, one in the middle), naval armsmen stood with their weapons in hand, straps connecting the guns to their dominant wrists.

Despite the increased work, the noise had fallen away to the absolute minimum. A few whispered among themselves, but the tension oppressed their words. Every single person had a rigid posture, not unlike the one a person gave in the presence of their superior.

"All jump stations have reported back, full head counts everywhere, First Lieutenant," an armsman standing next to me said.

It was the supposed privilege of the ship's captain to have two personal guards during a jump into or out of the Warp. All three of us were aware that a mercy execution was always a possibility despite the vast gap in rank.

"Good. Jump Officer, begin," I spoke into my comm-bead.

"Yes, sir! Activating engine," a voice spoke into my ear. An electric thrum ran through the ship a moment later before fading away just as fast. "Engine powering up…50%...80%...Engine fully charged. Portal is generating now; we have two minutes till exit."

A child may have imagined this to be a moment of supreme focus, but they would have missed how helpless the whole process made you feel. It did not matter how powerful any man was, he could do nothing but wait as the seconds ticked down.

In pure silence, we stood. And then…

"Exit successful!"

Despite this, no one spoke up. I found my voice. "Vox Officer, report."

The man down below knew what I wanted. "A moment, sir." He took eight. "I have a connection to Neptune. They have us at the edge of the Mandeville point."

I took in a breath. "Open the shutters."

The steel shutters over the windows rolled up slowly. They revealed nothing, of course, since we were so far away from all planets within the system that even Neptune was just a pinprick of light somewhere in the void.

But that didn't stop the men and women below from cheering.

"Set course for Terra," I ordered, a slight smile on my face despite my best efforts.

Perks Earned:

Upsized (Gemcraft - Frostborn Wrath): While making gems the size of entire buildings is possible for normal wizards, they usually don't bother, since they have a tendency to cause widespread devastation when they break, and that can endanger the wizard that cast the spells. If you don't mind working around the potentially deadly consequences of summoning huge gems, this perk will give you the skills necessary to scale your gems as large as you want, so long as the entire thing can fit within your spellcasting range. Of course, you will draw a lot of attention doing this. (Author's Note: I'm treating this as granting the knowledge to grow the gems as well)

Canteen of Magical Supply (Monster Girl Encyclopedia): A seemingly-empty canteen that readily produces water whenever mana is applied to the canteen to power it up. The canteen normally produces normal water, but extensive exposure to specific kinds of energy can cause the water to be infused with that energy; however, your canteen (unlike most others available in-setting) has a remarkable filter, so the canteen will not become permanently locked on a specific energy or permanently tainted by one unless you want it so – instead, once the corruptive energy is gone, it will go back to producing regular, untainted water.

Dao of Alchemy (Renegade Immortal): Alchemy is the art and science of using spiritual materials and reagents to create miraculous pills and concoctions with an incredible range of effects. From pills that can heal grievous wounds or cure horrific diseases to poisons so terrifyingly potent that just a single breath can melt the flesh from your bones. Elixirs that induce states of enlightenment or restoratives that can drastically improve your cultivation, help you break through bottlenecks or just simply refill your reserves of spiritual energy when you are low.

For the less talented, alchemical creations can represent their only hopes to break through to the higher stages of cultivation, be it the Foundation Establishing Pill, the miraculous medicines that can allow for the creation of nascent souls or even stranger things.

You are an incredibly talented alchemist with an intuitive grasp of the process of pillmaking as well as the way ingredients may interact, allowing you to make leaps in the process of refinement, or even creation of new recipes, that would require years of hard study for others. This kind of talent allows you to easily analyse and recreate pills with a short period of examination.

Talent isn't everything though. A senior with decades of experience will always do better than a pill genius on their first time. You have the equivalent of a good decade or two of practical experience with alchemy under your belt as well as a wealth of theoretical knowledge. If a reagent or pill has existed on Suzaku or in myth, then it's likely you know of it and the ways that it can be used or otherwise nurtured if it is not yet ready. This knowledge will update itself to include similar disciplines in future jumps.

Beta'd by sarf.

POV: Captain Abraxis

"Would you like more wine, sir?"

I was about to shake my head, then I reconsidered. "…just half."

The tan woman leaned over just slightly, holding the bottle in her hands closely as she let the sweet liquid within pour into my glass. Without waiting for my response, she closed the bottle and walked on, pushing her cart full of dirtied plates away.

Swirling my glass in my hand slightly, I took a sip. As it coated my tongue and poured down my throat, I made sure to savor it. The taste was something I had deprived myself of for a full month now, so every drop was precious.

Evidently, my approval was visible on my face.

"How can you drink that swill, Gabriel?" The man who asked that gave me time to swallow and think of a response as he hacked and coughed before taking another puff of his cigar. He, like myself, must have been cutting back, because the smoke typically covered his entire face from sight.

"I've always liked the taste, Seth. You know that," I responded.

"You and the word 'taste' do not belong together. Who actually likes any of the wine made on this planet? People who have never tasted anything else, that's who. You sure the gene cultists didn't fuck with your taste when they made you?"

I knew he could easily see my eyes roll. "Yes, and I'm sure they're hard at work finding out how to make everyone like better wine. Even my son-" my voice hitched for a moment, "even he doesn't like this."

"Hmm. That ain't right, I'll tell you that much," Seth grumbled, his expression more serious. I wondered why he felt comfortable using Merikan slang given who else we sat with. "That boy needs to learn to listen to his father. If my daddy told me I was gonna marry a boy, I wouldn't-."

A hand, dressed in a delicate white glove, grasped his left forearm gently. Seth glanced leftward before grimacing, unwilling to finish his statement.

His wife, who owned said hand, looked at me sympathetically. "I'm sorry we haven't seen each other in so long. You have our condolences for your family."

'Gabe, you know you need to exercise, so just do it!' My husband's last words to me suddenly poked my conscious mind. I forced myself to smile slightly and nod. "Thank you." Taking a deep breath, I drained what was left in my glass and stood up. "Give me a moment, I'm going to enjoy the view."

Before I even left, I could hear the furious whispering as Seth's wife no doubt berated her husband. He didn't even have the excuse that he was drunk, the man fastidiously avoided drinking and only smoked. "Better for the body" was his explanation.

My steps were slow to lessen the strain on my aching muscles and knees, still sore from my exercises yesterday. As I walked slowly, I took in the decorations beyond my cursory glances when I had first entered. Blue meters-wide rectangular banners hung lengthwise down the walls, each bearing two symbols.

On top was a circle with wings on its upper left and upper right, lightning bolts emanating from its lower left and lower right, and a spear running through the circle itself, though the part of the shaft that would be inside the circle was removed. Most of the spear was above the circle, its point aimed straight upward.

On the bottom lay another circle. An anchor, turned partly to the side, sat within. Just outside of the circle at the bottom, a curled banner was depicted with the words Para Certamen. On the top lay a curved segment scant centimeters from the circle. Three pairs of leaves were placed on either side, bracketing the center of the segment, though nothing was there.

The first was the symbol of the Imperial Army. The second of the Armada in particular. This was a repeated theme across all sections of the walls. Two long and thick ribbons ran across the walls, the top one red and the second yellow. Like with the banners, the Army's symbol was strictly shown on the red one, with the Armada's on the second.

As I walked, I noticed the half-filled tables. Chairs were strewn about slightly, but not so much as to make passage between them impossible. Men and women sat at whatever tables they wished in groups of two or three, but sometimes seven or eight, the assignment of seats ignored. Those who were not at the tables were gathered at the dance floor on the opposite side of the room, which I moved further away from.

I might have danced to at least one tune, but the notes were meant for a couple…

Passing under an open doorway, I stepped out onto the balcony. It was made of white stone, though the walking area was covered in tiles. The guardrail was made of thick columns sculpted like tall jars or vases with thin necks. The view invited a dismal comparison between where I stood and where those below stood.

Destruction. There was no word better suited to describing the sight before me. Far below and away, buildings simply didn't exist. I could make out piles of rubble, growing slowly as more of the areas were cleared around them, but the hovels or tents constructed in their place might as well have been thrown into the rubbish heap for all they were worth. Had there been a hospital down there, or perhaps a library? Maybe a place for children to play? I had never bothered to look, and now, I doubted I would ever know if I truly pursued the matter.

A wind blew in from that direction, suddenly, and I could smell trash on it.

Turning my head to the left, it was a great deal of the same, but the implications were much sadder. Much of the Imperial Palace's surrounding architecture had been destroyed. Some of these I knew as I had been there many times, others I had only seen if I glanced around during a parade or some other formal event.

One of these buildings had been only partially demolished, as if some giant had taken a bite out of the top right corner. The Scarlet Ventum! It was a very famous hotel, capable of housing four thousand people with rooms and halls so large an Astartes in armor would have no problem traversing it fully. On the very top had once stood a flag to the Imperium, but there was no chance of that now. Likewise, the pools in its basement were probably totally gone by now, either evaporated or filtered to remove the chlorine so others might drink.

A chuckle slipped onto my face as I remembered the disastrous night my mothers had brought me there for my first of many things: drink, smoke, and sex. I ultimately didn't get to do anything of the sort, as they forgot to send for me in the first place! The embarrassment on their faces was a first, though.

Perhaps the Emperor had intervened…no, that was stupid.

"Gabriel?"

A voice behind me, a familiar and slightly hoarse one. I turned and grinned at the recognizable face of one Jamie Penketh. "Jamie, how are you?" I asked, shaking his hand. His grip was strong, prompting me to match its power after a moment.

He gestured with his left hand casually. "Well, my parents are doing well, my ribs don't feel cracked anymore, and my ship's gonna be totally fixed soon. What more can I ask for?"

"For the traitors to all be dead?"

He squawked just a bit. "Y-yes, obviously, I want that too!"

I chuckled. "It was a joke, relax."

"Right, right." He paused, as if remembering something. "Sorry to hear about your losses."

"These things…happen. Thank you, though," I waved it off.

I had to for my own sake.

"Hmm. I actually did want to talk about your, uh, son. Is that okay?"

"What about him?"

He walked closer and stood next to me, a glass of wine in his hands. "You know, I think Lebray's in a good position to make it all the way to the top."

"Oh, did the Lord Commander decide yet?"

"No, but there have been Ultras pulling files from our ships. Full logs, and that means service records and what not."

"Ultras?"

"Ultramarines."

"Oh. I'd heard that before, never knew what it meant. I always just assumed…something. Not quite sure what."

"Right, but the point is that if he's going up, then he's going to move all of us with him."

"You're saying I could become a rear admiral?"

He hummed in dissatisfaction. "I don't think so. There's just too much competition for those spots, and some people are real boudlekkers, you know?"

"Then…why are you telling me this? Congratulations on moving up, I suppose."

"Well, it hasn't happened yet, so don't do that now. But the reason I was telling you this is that I'm fairly certain your son would come under my command. I'll fight for it if I have to."

I nodded. "Ah. Thank you for that."

"Any time, man. He'll still have to do work, but there's still plenty of easy stuff to go around for now."

We stood in silence, taking in the debris in the distance. "I wonder how the reconstruction efforts are going," I remarked.

He snorted. "Probably about as well as you see here. There's still so much kak to be dealt with first. We need food and water for everyone, then something to cover their heads. That's just to keep them from stealing or rioting. You'd think they wouldn't have the energy for that, but I suppose when a man is dying, he gets his last wind. Mars is still a wasteland. Well, more than it usually is. They have the big machines and tech-priests to actually make things go reasonably fast here, but they won't."

"Have you heard new things about the situation on Mars? Last I heard was three months ago."

"I was told a bit when Lebray finally made a loud enough racket a few weeks ago. The tentacle bastards had the gall to tell us, get this," he turned to me and made quotes with his hands, "'We don't have any tech-priests not involved in critical work. But since it was ordered…' That was absolutely absurd and everyone knows it. They're saying they don't have anyone they can give us even after all this time? They've got enough of their kind to do work all over the Red Planet, but not one group could be dispatched!?"

"Oh, the same thing they told us before. I'm just surprised it worked this time," I remarked.

He shrugged at that. "Lebray put some words in good ears, I'll bet."

Then, Penketh's expression lit up like he just remembered something. Holding his finger up, he turned to me. "Say, I just remembered. How the hell did you even go on a mission? I know your ship was damaged, did you just go like that?"

"Uh, no. It's the funniest thing, too. I was literally out to celebrate my first lieutenant's wedding at The King. We were having lunch when this magos just approached us from nowhere. No idea how he got in, but he said he could deal with our problems."

Penketh's eyebrows shot up. "That…that's incredibly convenient. Outright suspicious, frankly. So you brought him on? Did he prove his loyalty?"

"Not in that moment. I suppose he must have been a magos doing something on Terra and was unable to leave after the siege. We brought him onboard and keep a close watch on him. Or so I'm told. Good worker if what I've heard is true, hasn't done anything suspicious." Ramirez's choice had paid off, but I suppose I should never have doubted him. He was the best of my officers, unquestionably.

"So, this magos is tending to your ship? Just one?"

"Yes, why?"

"I've never met such a good magos. But I suppose you don't hear about the good ones because they take care of the problems before you have to."

I waited for him to continue, but he didn't. "Was that your only question? It seemed like you wanted to say more."

"Oh, yes. Guess how I learned about this magos on your ship?"

Perks Earned

Valkyrie Core & Frame (Battle Action Harem Highschool Side Character): All origins possess a Valkyrie Frame with the accompanying core. A Valkyrie Core is capable of storing, integrating, and improving technology and equipment. Its only limitations are storage capacity and complexity both of which grow with hours synced. Your initial storage and complexity is based on your origin with more experienced origins having more. The term Valkyrie Frame usually refers to a core that has integrated a suit of enhanced power armor that has been equipped with thrusters, weapons, and other equipment. Technology foreign to this universe is harder to integrate and upgrade. Post jump this limitation disappears.

Repair Savvy (Outlaw Star): Your skills in mechanics are top notch. Your weapons, armor, and personal equipment are all easy to repair, and maintenance of all of them takes mere minutes instead of hours.

Beta'd by sarf.