Herald of the Stars: Chapter One Hundred and Three (Patreon)

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Brigid is already waiting for me at the rooftop veranda at the top of the teahouse. My guards sweep through the room then withdraw. Fortunately they don’t try to pat down my date.

Brigid stands and we embrace each other, the top of her head barely reaching my sternum. She steps back, pats my stomach and sighs.

“You’re too tall, Aldrich. While I like to feel young, a child is not the sensation I was looking for.”

I laugh, “Good to see you too, Brigid.”

“Yes, I suppose it has been a while. How are you feeling? I am surprised you wanted to meet immediately.”

“Let’s sit and order, then I’ll tell you about it.”

Brigid shakes her head, “I’ve already ordered. I want to look over the gardens and you can tell me your thoughts.”

“Sure. A surprise is nice too.”

We walk to the railings. They’re carved from the metallic trees of Marwolv and have a grey, almost silver hue. I run my hands over the wood. It feels cool and more like brushed steel than wood.

“I’m not sure that’s quite the right word,” says Brigid. “I ordered everything on the menu. You must be hungry after over two months on nothing but water and air. Don’t fret, they’ll pack up anything we can’t finish.”

“You thought of everything.”

“It’s a curse and a privilege to be as brilliant as me.” Brigid rests her hand on mine and leans on the railing. Her eyes dart back and forth as she tracks the birds and butterflies. A small smile graces her lips. “What did the Warp look like to you?”

“An infinite ocean littered with strange lands and psychedelic colours. The creatures were strange. We were barely troubled by the minions of the Great Enemy yet attracted the unaffiliated creatures of the Warp’s greatest depths like bait. The Astronomicon, the Emperor’s great work and protective beacon of hope had little influence on our journey, making it impossible to track where we were going. Instead I had to steer us along the main currents, rather than cut through more tranquil sections, so that we did not lose our way. Finding the right current will be a matter of chance and careful calculation.”

“We are explorers then. Do you have a destination in mind?”

“So long as we continue to travel coreward we will reach Footfall, traverse the Maw and arrive at Port Wander, I will consider it a success. I hope to trade our goods and services for Imperial currency and news at Port Wander. As for the path we actually take, we will either run into a location on Quaani’s navigator charts or have to plot something anew. As for what we discover along the way, I could not say.”

“What sort of timescale are we looking at?”

“The Koronus Expanse is some four hundred lightyears wide and one thousand lightyears deep. There are roughly six hundred and forty thousand stellar bodies we could end up at. While some, perhaps even most, do not have the currents we are navigating by, that’s still, at a useful time scale, an effectively infinite number of possibilities. It is possible we will never find a path but I have hope, and a little faith, that we will encounter plenty of conflict and wealth along the way.”

The Emperor must have his tithe in souls and wealth, afterall. If he’s holding a whaling harpoon or a pair of sheep shears the next time I spot him in my dreams or the Immaterium I am staying well clear.

“That’s a rather long way of saying ‘I’ve no clue’.”

“I have a nice voice.”

Brigid laughs, “If it gets any lower and sonorous talking to you will become quite awkward for all our female personnel. Tech-apprentice humour aside, there is something new in your voice since your last change and it has become more pronounced since our voyage through the Warp.”

“Really?”

“Yes, it is, hmm, not compelling as such, just really difficult to ignore. Like a hull breach alarm, but more pleasant.”

“Thank you for telling me. I will choose when to speak with extra care.”

“You’re welcome. That’s what friends are for. You don’t need to change how and when you speak. It is a good change, I think.”

“That is good to hear,” I smile. “My sense of time is somewhat offset to others. I can subjectively go so long without speaking to others I can’t stop the words from bubbling up the moment I open my mouth.”

I also suspect a part of me is still a fat plumber, trapped on an abandoned space station with nary a friend but the machine inside my head. Even with the greatest tools in the galaxy, it is a tough habit to break and not a secret I am comfortable with sharing. Only E-SIM, and maybe Aruna, know of my origins.

“I think it makes you quite charming, Aldrich. It is reassuring to have you always share your thoughts. It lets your friends always know where they stand with you. Most of the time, at least.”

“Oh, is it ‘Compliment The Boss Day’?”

“We shall see.”

I laugh.

“One thing I am a little curious about though is why even bother with the Imperium at all? The Koronus Expanse should have everything we need, right?”

“That and more. It’s why so many Captains come here to make their fortunes, or rather risk their fortunes in the hope for more. The problem is just that. Risk. There is a high chance one only encounters disaster. While the STCs I have are great, I don’t have everything and swanning around looking for it is not a reliable way to get what we need.

“The Imperium only trades its best technologies with its most favoured partners. I already have enough goods and STCs to get the clout to acquire the best facilities and designs for our vessels. Why take those risks when I can trade? I wish to make our homes the best they can be and bring a wealth of advancements back to Marwolv, not risk having them lost to new and ancient threats. I even have a little insider knowledge about where we can get the most return for specific technologies. We just have to get there and bring enough firepower to keep the Imperium from ‘requisitioning’ what we have.”

Brigid, “It still seems like a big risk to me. Surely we could stay quiet and develop on our own?”

“It’s a nice thought, but someone or something always would and already has stumbled across Marwolv. Going alone against the void and its terrors has a certain romance to it. However, you’ve experienced the tiniest of tastes of battle hungry xenos and while we weathered green tides, black shoals, and blue parasites it could have easily gone the other way.

“By connecting with the Imperium proper we can build the relays needed to request aid. I doubt someone would ever arrive soon enough with a relief force to save Marwolv, but they might make it in time to pick up the pieces, or burn the last of it to the ground, denying whoever pillaged the planet all they have gained. It isn’t much, but it is better to die with hope than live in despair.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“A lot of planets and their governing bodies in the Imperium ask that, despite how many records they have to the contrary. Much of it seems like a myth when it's on a planet far, far away. ‘It won’t happen to us,’ they think. I does. They get complacent during centuries of peace, or worn down by every manner of corruption.

“Then the Astra Militarum, Navy, Space Marines or Inquisition get sent in and the planet burns. It always burns. I would have had to order the same, if we couldn’t fully purge the Orks. Even now, we can never be one hundred percent sure we got all the spores and will likely be fighting savage orks in the tunnels beneath Marwolv until the planet is naught but dust and ruin.”

Brigid’s hand tightens over my own and she purses her lips. “The crew would have never fired the weapons. There would have been a mutiny.”

“I know. I didn’t want to do it either. I’m not sure I even could.” I shake my head, “Letting the shipyard fall would have been enough. There would have been no need for a mutiny. All I had to do was give the wrong orders and command Aruna to obscure the data.

“Thirty million deaths now, or possibly, even likely, billions in the future. That was the choice I made after the Ork Rok hit Marwolv. I chose to keep Marwolv and its unique wealth of biology and it will be paid for in blood.

“I don’t regret it. I like to give people a chance. Need to, even.” I shrug, “It might not happen. We might have got all the Orks and destroyed the only webway gate in the system. I’ll never believe that though, no matter how long we search. Nothing can stop another visit either way, if someone really wants to harm us.

“It’s why we’re building a fleet, fixed defences, armour and armies and will do so until Marwolv’s sun burns hot enough the planet has to be abandoned, or so I hope. Many imperial officers would have just burned the world and moved on. It isn’t important enough to preserve and I have samples of everything. I could terraform it from scratch if I absolutely had to, or start anew elsewhere.

“A calculation of time and energy saved or spent. I ran the simulations the moment the bird avatar appeared. Letting it burn and evacuating everyone left to orbit was cheaper in the long run, and would have completely centralised my dominion over Marwolv, yet I chose to save the planet and its people anyway, just to spite those who would wish us harm.”

“You’ve been holding this in for a long time, haven’t you?” says Brigid. “Why share this now, of all times?”

“Oh, all sorts of reasons. I could claim that as the Warp is a realm of emotions, mine are most taxed from navigating it. I could say I am afraid of losing your companionship and took the cowards way out of waiting to tell you when you can no longer leave.

“The closest truth I can reach though is that I knew you would listen. I believe you see the world as numbers to be balanced, grown, or spent. You understand obsessions and the cost of dedicating oneself to a vital task. There is no other person I know with whom I can discuss price and have them empathise with the depth and complexity to which each small or large decision can cascade to, and to view each choice with the calculus required to truly understand the difference between the cheap, correct, or right path.

“Oh, that’s quite the opinion you have of me,” says Brigid.

“Well, I didn’t hire you for your good looks.”

“Now, now. Don’t go inserting your foot where it doesn’t belong. It isn’t good to deliberately invoke irritation and delight with a two faced compliment. Especially after such a big speech and I’m trying to hide my blushes. That’s workplace bullying, I tell you.”

I snigger.

Brigid smiles, “In all seriousness, Aldrich, you’re not just any imperial officer though, are you?” We face each other and she places her hands on my chest. “You don’t have one heart, you have two,” Brigid gazes at the implant covering my third eye, “and the sight to plan centuries ahead. You didn’t put in all that effort just for spite, and neither did anyone else.”

“Thank you, Brigid.” I sigh and put on a grin. “I needed to hear that.”

“Well, it is ‘Compliment The Boss Day.’

I laugh. It is rather freeing. “The food has started to arrive. Let’s take a seat. I think that’s enough serious conversation for one day. Thank you for listening to my rambles.”

“You’re most welcome.”

The servers arrive pushing trolleys covered in miniature stasis boxes with a glass-like energy field over them. It is the most extravagant use of the technology I have ever seen as we receive over a hundred different dishes served as fresh as it is technically possible to do so.

Most are vegetable and fish based, though there are small quantities of Old Earth meats that have been laboriously printed by N.O.M. modules over several days, rather than the slightly off substitutes the organic printers can churn out at speed. The rabbit and noodle stew, however, is the real deal and my favourite dish.

We share our dishes and exclaim over their marvellous appearance and flavour, competing over who can guess the real ingredients before I run my internal auspex over them and find out what they really are. Brigid beats me every time and is amusingly smug about it. I eye up the pile of carefully preserved dishes, each one a small work of art in its own right, then shake my head. Just under ninety percent of the dishes remain.

“I’m going to be enjoying that for weeks,” I say.

“Good,” says Brigid. “That’s what I wanted.”

We set aside the rest of the food and sip our drinks. Brigid frowns and drums the fingers of her right hand against the table a few times, then sighs and looks me in the eyes.

“Aldrich.”

“Yes, Brigid?”

“I’m having a wonderful time, but there comes a time when a girl wants more than just dinner and a recaf.”

I nod slowly. We’ve been developing our relationship for years. First I was her boss, then gradually we became friends. Now, and for the past year, we’ve been tentatively feeling each other out, without properly acknowledging what we were doing. I admit I have been deliberately dense to Brigid’s increasingly purposeful advancements, though, I like to think, clearly appreciative of her growing opinion of me.

This, however, is the big moment she’s set up for me. I can either or acknowledge it, or we will go back to being friends. Brigid is a practical woman who won’t hesitate to throw away a lost cause if I don’t reciprocate, and I? Well, I didn’t jump from a tank to a date just to mess this up.

I hope.