Bab 7: First Story
So, if you found this data slate, that means you solved the riddle on the lockbox I left in front of the door. Since that means you know that Games Workshop is the company behind Warhammer, then you've probably been isekai'd like I was. You are WAY off the beaten path, and you're either looking for us, this ship, or a way back to your original home. If it's us, please don't bother, we've gone where others can't follow, if you're looking for our relics and stuff, then we left them in a place inside the ship you'll probably be able to find. If you get to them, take them with our and the God-Emperor's blessings. If it's the ship you've been looking for, well you found it. If it opens for you, great. If not, my advice is to leave. The storms get pretty bad here. If you're looking for a way back to your world…well…the archeotech in the ship is stuff that tech-priests would slaughter entire worlds for, there might be something but I have no guarantees. I mean, I don't blame you for trying anything that might give you a remote chance of working. I remember my first reaction when I woke up and found that not only had I been iseaki'd but put into the Warhammer 40k verse?
"Oh I am so frakked." I groaned as I stared at the shrine to the God-Emperor from by flattened cardboard box that was my bed.
At that point, another worker grabbed me and told me to get to work. So that's what I did. Thankfully, it wasn't too hard, just take whatever was in Depot 8796 and take it to Depot 7438. They were drums about the size of an oil drum. They weighed about the same too. I didn't ask what was in them, and I didn't think it mattered, or that anyone knew. People weren't handling them with super care, so it probably wasn't excessively dangerous. My bet was promethium. Actually, the group seemed to be a pretty good one. The overseer was pleasant and didn't feel the need to whip us, and when the crew got into a good groove, a few started singing. I even started up a shanty of my own to help. I hadn't checked to see how this body differed from my one back on Non-Everything's Fucked Up Earth, but it had the muscle and the stamina to do these jobs. These very long jobs.
After a very long time, the Overseer called out that our Shift was done, and our group could go eat, pray, and presumably pass out until the next shift. We had 4 hours. I went with the rest of the 8796s and we gathered in a small group in a room that had more cardboard 'beds' in it. Someone opened up a crate, and food bars were passed around along with small pouches of water. The bars were flavorless but filling, and the 8796s didn't talk much except about how lucky we were to not be the 9128s or the 2809s. Every once in a while, the guys would cycle who was praying in front of the little shrine in our 'common room' that we had erected.
I was still screwed, after all the ship could get attacked and this whole section blown to hell, Chaos could surge through and slaughter us all in both body and soul. Drukhari could raid us and slice every person here to ribbons. There was a long list of Bad that could swing down my pipe. However, that was life for main characters. Laborers like me were just part of the endless faceless masses who labored day in and out. I didn't even know where I was, apart from the fact that I was on a ship. That I just knew by the writing on the walls. It was low gothic, not english, but I understood it well enough.
One of the guys was coughing. It didn't sound bad, just the result of living in a poorly ventilated tunnel. I got up, took his small capri-sun bag of water, and went over to one of the pipes, I turned the faucet there, and a small trickle of water came out. I filled his bag, and handed it back to him.
"Here. It's not totally clean, but it should help the cough." I said.
"How'd you do that?" The man said, sipping the water.
"That pipe's labeled as a cooling pipe for the engine we're right above." I said. "Coolant water is a little recycled, but nothing that'll kill you…immediately."
"Huh, so Footfall can read huh?" Another man said. "Hey, can you read this?" He flipped me off.
I grinned. "Well, they say that if that finger is longer than your ring finger if you chopped them both off, you have an enormous dick and are a fantastic lover."
"Really?" The man instantly looked at his hand. The entire 8796 crew burst into laughter, and two swatted me on the back in pleasure at the good joke.
Now where did that come from? The joke and story just popped into my head. I knew other things like that before, but…
"Hey, Footfall!" One of the guys said. "Come tell us what all this grox shit means."
I spent the time reading out all the labels, directions, and warnings that had been inscribed on the walls, and pipes. Apparently, the crew had all gathered here, and slept here because it was warmer in here, and that was because it was right above an engine, and its exhaust pipes. Good for survival, bad if the engine went down, or flared up. Then we'd freeze in moments, or get scalded to death by hot air. Thankfully, there were valves that adjusted that, and if we had time, we could prevent such deaths for long enough for everyone to get to relative safety.
The leader of the 8796 Crew pretty much named me second-in-command of the crew. Everyone else agreed, and using the coolant pipe, a second water ration was passed out to everyone.
Kyrx, the leader, raised us all in a toast, to the ship that gave us life and warmth. "To Calamity's Fortune!"
Wait. That's the name of the ship? That's the same name I gave my ship in the game. No. Well, there was one way to check.
"To the Rogue Trader!" I said.
Kyrx nodded. "To Celeste Von Valancius!"
Huh. Okay. So, I'm not only in Warhammer 40k, I'm in Rogue Trader, specifically MY Rogue Trader game. Or at least, the ship and the new leader of the Von Valancius dynasty have the same names I gave them. That may be a good thing, since my play through was 100% Iconoclast. But apart from her name, none of the 8796 Crew knew anything about the mythical woman who sat in the Captain's Throne.
It was my turn to pray, and I kneeled before the small figure of the Big Guy, and two small candles that were nearly worn away. I closed my eyed, bowed my head, and started praying desperately.
Hi. Umm, I know you're REALLY busy with other stuff but…if you can find some time, and no big rush, but I'd really like to go back to my home. Please. If you need my help to do something, I'm happy to try, I don't know if I'll be any use but…anyway, all praise to you, frak the Chaos Gods, they're schmucks. Thanks at least for putting me in a situation that's not an unbearable nightmare. Amen.
I step away from the shrine, and lie down on my piece of cardboard. Some of the guys are talking instead of sleeping, they're hoping to see their families again. I listen. Apparently moving the depot is kind of a 'contract' gig that gets assigned to people from Lower Deck Families. Once this is done, they'll get to go back to the dorms, or bunk houses where their families are, and have a crate of food bars and water pouches to give out. Everyone thinks that we are very very lucky, as we have a warm place to sleep, an overseer who doesn't unnecessarily use the punishment stick, and the job is looking like it'll be done ahead of schedule which pleases the higher decks and hopefully means more work later. That will translate into more supplies given to their families.
8796 is filled with the male members of two families from the same deck. The Nebb Family and the Halcott family. Friends for years, intermarried a bunch of times, obviously survived because they've been looking out for each other. They've been working on Calamity's Fortune since before Theodora von Valancius and barely knew the changeover happened. The only reason they know about Celeste is ship gossip is all about her personally handling the small 'uprising' on another deck. They're very loyal, and very devout. The kind of good people that the 40k universe loves to grind to bits. They've been surviving because they aren't important enough to be in anyone's story. Just another deck family. Probably just fodder for when Drukhari or Chaos run through their area.
They talk about me a little because they think I'm sleeping. I'm new blood picked up from Footfall, which means we're in Act 2 at least. I was just a person taking an empty bunk, and they thought nothing of me. Heh. Kyrx thinks I might be lucky. If I know how iseaki logic works, I'm more likely to get everyone they know and love killed. I hope I can avoid that.
Also, as I drift off to the few hours of rest we're allowed, I feel the presence of someone else, two presences. Like there's people standing next to me, only we feel our thoughts bumping 'elbows.' I can see one of them easy enough. He's the real 'Footfall,' a simple lowborn of the station, who begged their way onto the ship so that they could get regular work and food. He's very confused by the situation, and has no way to understand my own thoughts. He's not freaking out yet, but that's only because he's seen all my thoughts about the God-Emperor so he thinks this is His will.
I think I could kill him if I wanted. Just push my thoughts over his and send him to…wherever forgotten thoughts go to. His life's been unspectacular. Born in abject poverty, forced to work from the beginning, took to it at least, a quiet mind that focused on surviving and earning a few thrones for his family. Threw his parents into the reprocesses with a few tears when they died, and didn't want to live with the ghosts. Now he's locked out of his own body, and now all the strange glyphs in the world that never meant anything now unlock before him. He has a name, but I'm not privy to it like everything else. I'd have to take it, or ask and have it given. I do neither, and I'm absolutely not going to 'kill' him. We're in this together, and I'll do my best to keep him alive and hopefully make his life better. Maybe teach him to read at least.
When I have these thoughts I feel a reaction from my other 'occupant.' Kind thoughts to Footfall please the 'Other' Presence. This one I can't see as clearly. Their thoughts are understandable, if concealed, so I think are human, or were human at least. Of course, there are Daemons who had been humans before they changed, so that means nothing. If they are of the Archenemy, then they're either clever or patient, going for a long game. It'd be simple to emerge, blow up all the promethium we handle daily, and summon some daemons from the resulting chaos. So, either this presence isn't of Chaos, or it's using me for a bigger goal. Neither is comforting. I can't really do anything about it, unlike Footfall. I move my thoughts towards it, and they simply step away. I'll just have to deal with it when it makes its move. I should find a way to kill myself quickly, just in case.
I get shaken awake by my fellow 8796, and get up and head to work. Footfall is mostly in charge during this time. He likes my shanties and work songs. The shift stretches on, and the infinite barrels are shifted. The overseer is in a good mood, nodding at our hustle, and giving smug looks at Supervisor 9128, who's working the depot next to ours. (No, none of the Depots are numbered in an order that makes sense to me.) 9128 is still mostly full, and the Supervisor seems to enjoy beating his charges a little too much.
About 11 hours in the Supervisor blows his whistle, and we all stop. He doesn't look mad, and hasn't gotten out his discipline stick, so we're not afraid.
"Any of you good with kids?" He asks. "We're on rotation to manage Deck 15, 17 and 22's orphans for the rest of the shift. This is a request from the upper decks."
"I got kids." Ajax says. "But that's mostly why I'm here." We all laugh.
I feel a prod from the Other Presence. I raise my hand. "I can keep them busy. I know some stories to keep them sitting in one place."
"Perfect." Supervisor says. "Footfall, they're all yours. Elevator to 2601. They get out of hand, it's your ass."
"Yessir." I say, and take off to the lift.
So, instead of looking at a huge supply depot full of promethium I'm staring at a horde of children. The Other Presence shifts, and words come to my mind. Words that I know, but slightly different, changed because there is no way I could tell stories of Gods in this world, but…there is a way…it's chancy but…
"Who wants to hear a story about the chosen of the God-Emperor?" I cry out, and the kids all dutifully turn to look at me. I gesture for them all to sit, and they obey. Say one thing about 40k, it raises kids who obey adults.
"Now, this is not a story about the sacred Primarchs. Hallowed be their names." I say. "But this happened a long long time ago, before the Imperium was what it is."
NOW the kids are interested.
"You see, there were other worlds once. Strange and different. That had strange peoples, that the Emperor needed to bring under his control. He needed aid, so he made a people for this planet, this planet called Midgard. They were know as the Aesir. Their leader was a man named Odin, a great warrior, wise and cunning, who sacrificed his own eye to the Emperor so that he be given the secrets of the universe."
I then give a casting call of the Nordic pantheon, changed for 40k audiences. The kids were following along very well, and they really liked how I billed Thor as a proto-astartes, and made sure that everyone cried out a giant BOOM whenever Thor threw his hammer. There were also wide eyes and interest when I described Loki, the shape changer, who's heart was hidden and should not be trusted.
The cast was filled, and no one was yelling heresy. So far so good. I then launched into a retelling of The Treasures of Asgard. Everyone laughed at Thor threatening to break Loki's bones in order because he had shaved Thor's wife bald. There were more changes, the gnomes became tech priests, and the dwarves became…well…I didn't use the word Squat, but the kids were able to follow without clarification.
The story ended well with everyone laughing at me acting like Loki with his lips sewn shut and they all applauded at the end. Even the person behind me.
"Well told. You have a talent." A beautiful voice said. I turned and saw Sister Argenta standing there, in all her armored glory.
"Sister Argenta…" I instantly dropped to my knees and bowed my head. "I am unworthy to be in your presence."
She laughed. "Rise, please. I am no noble who requires genuflection." She turned to the group of children who were ecstatic to see her. She told them to do their daily exercise drills, and the kids started jumping jacks and running from one side of the room to another. She looked back at me. "Thank you for keeping the children in order. Sometimes I arrive to find them climbing the walls, and beating each other. Also, your tale was quite interesting. I have never heard of those chosen of the Emperor."
"The stories of the Aesir are very old. I think some of it exists with the Astartes Chapter known as the Space Wolves. I consider it my privilege to keep the old stories." I said.
"And does the storyteller have a name?" Argenta asked pleasantly.
The Second Presence shoved me aside and took over. "I am Echo of Shaharah. Born of Footfall."
I stepped back in. "Echo will do."
"Very well." Argenta frowned and looked at me. "Do you have another tale in you? The crates with the children's food are coming from another depot today, and may take some time."
"Absolutely." I said. "If we can get them back into order, I know a good story about how the Aesir built their wall."
Argenta clapped her hands and all the children snapped to attention. It was very clear that the Sister had become the matriarchal figure for all these lost children. The nice thing was that it was very much mutual. She cared for them, and they cared for her back. So, it was a matter of moments, and calling one or two by name, that got them all sitting back down and at attention.
I then launched into a solid retelling of the Giant who Built the Wall, his horse Svaoilfari, and how Loki had to 'trick' the horse to stop the Giant from stealing the Sun, Moon, and beautiful Freya. Whenever I spoke of Freya and her beauty, I'd always gesture to Argenta, which made the kids laugh. Argenta frowned the first time, but smiled when I spoke of her terrible wrath and how she'd vow to kill Loki before she was given to the Giant. In the end of the story, the builder reveals himself to be, not only a giant, but in league with the Archenemy, and is duly smote by Thor and his hammer, with a huge boom from all the kids. I got applause again, also from Argenta.
By now the food had arrived, and Argenta went into mother mode, getting all the kids fed. After food came prayers, led by the Sister. I followed along, bowing my head and continuing to beg the Big E to please let me go back. After prayers came more exercises, and then everyone was led off by servitors to go back to their bunk house for evening prayers, confession, and bed.
"They'll sleep tonight with dreams of the God Emperor's chosen." Argenta said to me, as we watched the kids file away. "Thank you. You have a gift."
"Thank you, sister. You do too. Few have a way with children as you do." I said. "I should see myself back to my work depot."
"It's on my way." Argenta said. "I'll walk with you."
We took the elevator down to the supply tunnels, and began the walk.
"You were born on Footfall?" She asked, making idle conversation. "So you joined us when we arrived last."
"Yes." I said. "My parents had passed, and there was nothing else there keeping me."
"I'm so sorry." Argenta said. I nodded, and noted that she really meant it.
"They got sick. They passed a few days between each other." Footfall told me. "They were not in pain, and they were together."
"Such graces we can only thank the Emperor for." Argenta said. "So tell me, why Echo of Shaharah? It's an unusual name."
"My mother was born on Footfall as well," The Second Presence said. They were lying now, too. "But she was the Echo of Shaharah before I, and her Father was the Echo before her. It reaches all the way back to Shaharah itself. Blessed be its sands."
"Shaharah is a planet?" Argenta asked.
"Was." The second presence said. "It was wiped clean by the Archenemy. Only the Echoes remain. It is our duty to remember the place, and its wonders."
Argenta smiled and looked at me. "So, you have many stories in you."
"As many as there were grains of sand in our deserts." The second presence said. "One of my favorites is the Straw Girl. That is a story of Shaharah."
"We have some time." Argenta said, sounding very amused. "Go ahead and tell it."
The second presence stepped aside and let me take over. Not before letting me know the story. Apparently, they felt I was the better actor. Shows what you get for being a theater kid.
"The first thing you must know of, is the Marketplace of Shaharah." I said. "It was not just some simple trading floor, or collection of stalls. It was a wonder." I then went on to describe this incredible bazaar, where anything could be bought or sold, and how people would exchange fortunes and even planets as regularly as someone on Footfall would buy a meal.
Then I told the story of the straw girl. It's a familiar tale, that I recognized. A girl walks into this wondrous market with a single piece of straw, and through cunning and skill, trades her way up, first to marbles and strings, and then to tools and weapons. Then to grander things, like vehicles and power armor. At the end she's trading mansions and spaceships, and retires on her own paradise world, looking at endless waving fields of wheat, which she names Strawhome. Not a bad story.
Argenta really liked it. At the end, we had stopped walking, and she was leaning against the wall. She was actively guessing who the girl would sell to next, and what she would get in return. I love an involved audience.
"That was marvelous." Argenta said. "Heh, who you really should tell that story to is this Cold Trader we've taken on called Jae Heydari. She'd probably insist that the girl was one of her ancestors."
"Well," I said. "Not that I would speak against any of the Lord Captain's retinue, but I've heard that Cold Traders tend to tell interesting stories of their own. If they are true or not, well…I'm sure Lady Heydari is a paragon of honesty."
Argenta snorted and laughed a little. "Of course." She sighed. "This is where I must leave you. Thank you again with your help, it was above expectations. Your supervisor will be notified and praised."
"Thank you, sacred sister. It was a pleasure, and so was your company." I said, bowing.
We split going down different tunnels, and I eventually joined up again with the 8796. They asked me how bad was it, and I said it wasn't bad at all. The kids sat down, listened to me tell stories, and then supervisors came, fed the kids, and took them back to their beds.
Of course then, Derran wanted to know what story I told, to which I said it was just old tales about Holy Terra and the Emperor. That, naturally, led me into being annoyed by everyone to tell them a bedtime story. I told them that we only had four hours to pray, eat, and sleep, and did they really want to waste that time listening to fairy tales?
The answer was a resounding yes.
The Second Presence was starting to tire by this point, but still responded, and the words came to me.
This story felt historical, like it was something that really did happen, also I remember seeing variations of the tale done by Gaiman and others. It is of a beautiful woman, the wife of the head of a family, and how one day, while her husband and the men were away, a horde of barbarians, soldiers of the Archenemy, came upon her village. However, she was cunning, and welcomed in the soldiers, and had them come into their grand hall, where she and her fellow sisters fed them food and had them drink amasec in great quantities. The barbarians, slaves to the Archenemy as they were, could not hold back their gluttony and indulged until they were sleepy and sluggish. That was when the head woman slit the leader's neck, and the other women fell upon them. The barbarians rallied and tried to fight back, only to find that the village's men had returned and they were slaughtered to a man.
Everyone thought it was a pretty good story. Although two argued as to if that village was the origin of the Nebb or Halcott families.
The next three cycles, it was all hauling barrels and Footfall was in the driving seat. I was actually getting used to this. We were a good team. The work would be done, and that meant our families would be fed and heated for another series of cycles. Even better, I was now officially part of the Nebb/Halcott family and one of the guys was saying I should meet his daughter when we got back to the Family Deck. Frak me, but I had actually landed in 40k and had a positive outlook on life. It was still 20 hour work days of hard back breaking labor with no breaks, in a world where painful horrible death was almost a certainty, but…well Footfall had friends for the first time in his life and was truly grateful.
Echo of Shaharah was calm, waiting for their next moment, and happily provided songs and the occasional story. I kept doing my best to pray to the Emperor, and get the sound of Argenta's laughter out of my mind. The depot was more than 50% cleared by then. The Supervisor actually complemented us and gave us a full ten extra minutes one shift, apparently whatever Argenta had said to someone, probably Abelard, had given our Supervisor either some perk or reward. He didn't share it with us, of course, but a happy boss isn't one gets upset when someone slips his grip on a barrel and drops it. (It didn't break or dent. Barely slowed us down.)
Next to us, things were more in tune with the 40k setting, a kid shifted his grip on a crate and the supervisor watching him just went to town with the punishment stick, beating him to unconsciousness. Two of us offered to help the guy to his feet, but the other men just glared at us and said if he was too weak to handle a little disciple he deserved to lie there. 9128 was just getting worse and worse by the day, and they still hadn't made a dent in their stacks of boxes. I really should have noticed that more carefully. It was worse than that, though. Work crews were given a supply crate at the start of their assignment, if it went empty before your work was done, then you just starved until it was done. Our crate was half empty, and that was thanks to Kyrx's well managed rationing, and the fact we had a water source from the coolant pipe. 9128 was rumored to have already eaten through everything and were licking condensation off of walls. Warning signs all over, really should have seen it coming.
However, we were in good spirits, it was the rest period, and we were eating the flavorless bars, when we hear boots approaching. We all get to attention, and around the corner comes two Upper Deck guardsmen and Abelard Werserian himself. We all salute and he nods.
"Which of you is Echo of Shaharah?" He says.
"Sir!" I step forward.
"Your presence is requested. Follow me, act accordingly, and show proper decorum." He said.
"Sir, yes, sir!" I said.
"Also." Abelard sighed, as if he had to do something terminally embarrassing. "I have been informed by your supervisor that your work group has been performing to slightly above quota. This is acceptable and speaks well of your crew and families. The Lord Captain has issued that…all work crews that are…meeting quota, shall be given incentive." He said this last part as if it physically hurt him to say it.
One of the guards stepped forward and handed Kyrx a small white box with the von Valancius seal on it. Kyrx opened it and found, small digestive biscuits, wafer thin and as big as a coin, one for each of the crew. My eyes bugged out. Something with flavor? Forget that, something with sugar?! Kyrx bowed to Abelard, and everyone including me, followed suit.
"Thank you lord Seneschal! Glory to the Rogue Trader! Hail Celeste von Valancius!" We all said.
Kyrx then took the biscuits sealed them, and placed them in our supply box. Abelard raised an eyebrow at that. He was probably used to people devouring them instantly. Kyrx looked a little at a loss as to how to respond to the Ultimate Authority so I stepped in.
"We secure and ration out all goods, sir." I said. "The Nebb/Halcott family do not waste when careful management will suffice."
Abelard nodded, looking pleased. He looked at me. "You are from Footfall. Do you now consider yourself to be of their clans?"
I saluted and nodded at Kyrx. "They're everything good servants of the Imperium should be. I consider it an honor that they've accepted me."
"Well said." Abelard said. "Come."
Going from the Lower Decks, to the Upper Decks is a trip. Both in distance and how things look. Things go from industrial nightmare, to 40k decor and then you're walking through a hall with an actual window and you see the star field…you actually realize that you're on a spaceship.
Abelard cleared his throat when he caught me staring out a window, and I apologized and resumed following him. He thankfully didn't seem too surprised at such a reaction. We came to a huge set of doors, and Abelard and the guards stopped. He turned to me.
"Do not first speak or look upon the Lady Navigator, unless given permission by the Lady Navigator or myself." He said. "If you try to touch the Lady Navigator, you will be executed immediately. If the Lady Navigator does not wish your presence, we will be leaving without comment. If the Lady Navigator wishes something of you, you will do so. Do not stare at the Lady Navigator in any fashion, nor are you to do anything that causes her discomfort with your presence."
My eyes widened, the Lady Navigator? Cassia? This was Cassia's room? I was about to meet Cassia?! Frak! This is the woman who thinks all commoners should have their tongues removed! She can literally turn me to ashes with a blink of her eye. She's also one of the most beautiful people in the Koronus Expanse and vital to the Calamity's Fortune getting around! What in the name of the God-Emperor does she want with me?!
"I understand." I squeak out, sounding appropriately intimidated.
Abelard nodded, and knocked on the door.
"Come in." Another beautiful voice says.
Cassia's room was full of books. She doesn't have her personal library in this timeline, so they're scattered all over the room in small piles and on any available surface. She is sitting in a chair at a small table, book in hand, glass of amasec on the table, next to a bottle of the stuff. There's a bowl of actual fruit on the table.
Cassia was really tall, like 'Hi are you a basketball player or Olympian?' tall. Also, she was also absolutely gorgeous, and then I saw her gills, how her eyes werejust a tad not the right shape, and her hands ended in bone white, very sharp, talons. She's still amazing. She's dressed in silk and gold, jewelry that makes her look even more like a princess. I look at the ground and my work books, and regulation stock cargo pants, and again I wonder what the frak am I doing here? I sneak another look and I think, she looks really tired. Then it's back to studying my shoes.
"Master Werserian?" Cassia asks, sounding honestly confused. "What is this?"
Great. She doesn't know either! This just gets better and better!
"The Lord Captian is aware of our last journey through the immaterium was particularly taxing for you." Abelard said. "She wishes to show you her appreciation for your efforts, and to help you recover." He gestured to me, still looking at my boots. "This individual is known to be one of the better storytellers on this ship. Sister Argenta speaks of his ability. The Lord Captain has brought him here to entertain you."
"Oh." Cassia said, sounding surprised. "Well, tell the Lord Captain thank you, but…I rather prefer to read my stories, than have them told. Especially by a commoner."
Lady you could call me whatever you want, if I can get out of this without you or Abelard killing me. Poor Footfall is terrified out of his mind. The damn Echo of Shaharah is being no help either. (Yes, I know it'd be easier if I called them Echo or EoS but the pedantic son of a bitch will NEVER let me use anything less than it's full name. Also, Echo's my handle.)
"The Lord Captain told me that you'd say that." Abelard said, sounding like he rather agreed with Cassia. "And I was to inform you that this individual has knowledge of stories that you do not have in your books. Ancient stories of the times before the Imperium, and of worlds lost and forgotten."
"Oh." Cassia said, and I could hear a curious hunger in her voice. The moment that tone was present, Echo of Shaharah had one emotion: 'Gotcha.' "Well…perhaps if the commoner would write down one of those stories, I would be appreciative."
My hand went up without me willing it. Frak you, Echo of Shaharah! I looked directly at Abelard. His eyebrows went up, but he nodded, allowing me to speak. I felt a goading pressure in my mind. Great now it's my time to sell myself.
"Maybe I should tell one of my stories to the Lady Navigator." I said to Abelard. "That way she can know if she wants to experience more of my tales. Afterwards I would be happy to record as many stories as I can."
"Lady Navigator?" Abelard said, looking at Cassia.
"Perhaps that would be acceptable." Cassia said. "It would be rude to turn this gift away entirely."
Abelard nodded at me, and I took a breath and turned to look directly at Cassia Orsellio. I suddenly knew exactly what story to tell her. I barely needed Echo of Shaharah to feed me the lines.
"My Lady, I see you enjoy amasec." I said, as politely as I could. "Did you know there were once other names that it was once called by? Whiskey, Rum, Absinthe, and Wine?"
"Oh! Yes! I've read of wine!" Cassia said, her eyes going wide-er.
"Then I have a story to tell you about nobility, revenge, and wine. A very particular wine, in this story's case. A wine known as Amontillado." I said.
"Oh…oh my." Cassia said, and got up from her chair and walked away.
I instantly went back to looking at my feet, waiting for Abelard to take me away.
"Why did you stop?" Cassia said. "You had just started."
"Your Ladyship walked away." I said. "I assumed you had lost interest or had another desire."
"I just had to get my chalks and my sketchpad." Cassia said. I looked up, she had a package of colored chalks and was holding a large drawing sketchpad. "The moment you said that word, such colors! Wine dark red, and ambers of such intensity! I simply could not let such things pass my vision and not put them to page. Amontillado…such a word. Please, do continue."
"Very well." I said. "For this story, we take place on a Feudal World called Italy, in a city known as Venice. I will now speak in character, and I am a noble by the name of Montresor."
"Black and vermillion of such fury!" Cassia gasped. "Speak, Montresor!"
I then did the best damn rendition of the Cask of Amontillado that I've ever done in either of my lives. With a few edits, 'For the Love Of The God-Emperor, Montresor!' and such. It is my favorite Poe, and I've heard Vincent Price say it, I've heard Christopher Lee say it, and I've recited that story at campfires, cafes, and on stage. Before, when I've told a story, I've felt Echo of Shaharah guiding me now and again, it's not great at performing, but sometimes it plays director and gives me cues on how to say things as well as what to say. This time, I could feel it sitting back just staring at me. Although it did give me the high gothic needed for Nemo Me Impune Lacessit, and the last line.
"Requiesce in pace." I said in High Gothic, which is close to latin, but very much not latin. Really, all the languages here have this feel like they were normal languages once, and then put through google translate about fifty times to the point of ineligibility.
Cassia put down her drawing pad, and leaned back and closed her eyes. She deeply exhaled. For a second I'd thought she'd ask for a lho stick, but maybe that was my ego talking. I went back to looking at my feet. Then I heard the sound of paper being flipped over. I looked up and saw that Cassia had prepared a fresh page on her pad. That was a pity, I wish I had gotten to see what she had made. Now knowing what I know about Cassia's art, maybe that was for the best…but I still wonder.
"Another." Cassia said.
"Your ladyship?" Abelard said. "Are you sure? I can still have them write down the-"
"Another." Cassia simply said, getting her chalks ready.
"Would you like one from the same author, or another type of story?" I said.
"Same." Cassia said.
"Then…I now speak as a madman." I said. Then launched into the Tell-Tale heart. That one I don't know as well, but Echo of Shaharah was there. It also made me realize that Echo of Shaharah was very very old. I know Tell-Tale Heart's basics, sure, but I don't know it word for word, so they didn't get the story out of my brain. Now, there's no internet in 40k, no wikipedia, and I really doubt that Mars has an STC on gothic short stories. Then again, you never know. The point is that Echo of Shaharah knew all the words. That meant at some point they had access to the story, and Poe hasn't existed for millennia. That meant they were very very old, or could reach back and get it. Neither did much to dissuade me from the idea that Echo of Shaharah wasn't dangerous. It did make me think that they were the one who had pulled me here, and that I should be trying in my prayers to get the God-Emperor to take a good long look at them.
Of course, that was for when I had a moment to myself. Right now, I was pounding on the floor in front of Abelard, as I was having him stand in for the police, and howling.
"Villains! Dissemble no more! I admit the deed! Tear up the planks! Here, here! It is the beating of his hideous heart!" I gasped, and then collapsed in on myself.
I slowly got to my feet, and went back to looking at my feet.
Cassia had put away her drawings, and now was getting up and heading towards an easel she had in the corner of a room, and Uve was getting her personal paint kit out. (Uve was here the whole time, but he was standing in a corner and out of sight. Really he didn't so much even register on my mind until I saw him move.)
"Lady Cassia." Abelard said clearing his throat. "I feel that I should be returning this individual to his duties. He has other obligations on the ship. If you wish to have him reassigned, I can speak to the Lord Captain on your behalf."
"Oh…but…just one more. Please?" Cassia said. Honestly, my heart broke, and I felt such despair because she was talking to Abelard and not me! Still, I am but a slave to my audience, and there's only one way to end a reading of Poe.
"Excuse me." I said to Abelard. "I know a poem by the same author. It's short. I think all she'll need is a piece of charcoal."
"Lady Navigator?" Abelard said.
"Please!" Cassia said with such glee, like of a child getting to stay up past bedtime ten extra minutes.
"Once upon a midnight dreary, as I pondered weak and weary…" I started.
I don't know the Raven that well. I did not give it 110% like I did Cask or Heart. Cassia did not notice, she was going nuts with her stick of black, and her easel. I could see the picture this time, and it was…well…it was a black bird-like shape. It's skull was more bone than flesh, and the wings were widespread and very pointy. Basically if you fed Warhammer 40k, Edgar Allen Poe, and Raven into an AI art generator, you might get something close to what Cassia did. Only her's was way way better. By the Emperor, I'm looking back on that time and I'm still bothered that I didn't get to see her drawing that she made from the Cask of Amontillado.
Anyway, I finished, and she finished. She stepped back with a huge smile on her face, and she looked 100% refreshed. She beamed with good feelings, and then I felt it. I felt her good feelings, and happiness, and a laugh just jumped out of my throat. I clapped a hand over my mouth and looked down at my feet.
I felt Echo of Shaharah's apology. Apparently, they had been filtering out Cassia's influence on people, but that last blast of glee had been too much for them to deflect. Again, I wondered what in the name of the God-Emperor was this thing?
"Apologies." Cassia said, looking at Abelard, who was also coughing to hide the fact that he was laughing as well. "Tell the Lord Captain that their gift was splendid and well received. I feel truly renewed and more that ready to serve in my duties."
"Of course." Abelard said. "I am pleased to hear it, and I'm sure the Lord Captain will be as well. Come." That last bit he said to me. I nodded and turned.
"Wait." Cassia said. "You. Storyteller. Umm, what is your name?"
"I am Echo of Shaharah." I said. "I am at your service any time."
"Good. You did well." Cassia frowned. "I am uncertain as to what to do Master Seneschal. You are supposed to reward lessers when they please you, yes?"
"I am sure the Lord Captain, or myself, can handle that." Abelard said.
"Still…what does it…what do you want?" Cassia said, actually looking at me.
I had a few seconds, and actually it was Footfall who made the save. I pointed at the bowl of fruit on her table. "May I have one of those?" I said.
"Oh? Is that it? Just a treat?" Cassia smiled, got one of the fruits and gently placed it in my hand. "Enjoy it." She said with the same smile you save for your new favorite dog.
"Very good." Abelard said. "Now, we must go."
We left Cassia to her reading, and went back to the elevators that took you away from Gothic Wonderland and back to industrial hell. I was holding the fruit, looking at it. It was not an apple. It was some fruit from some planet, but it was close enough to an apple so I'm calling it an apple.
"You eat the whole thing." Abelard said helpfully. "Skin and all."
I nodded. "Thank you. But I'm saving it so I can share it with my Crew. This will help us finish our work that much faster."
Abelard nodded. He approved. "You did well. The Lady Navigator was pleased. The Lord Captain will be as well. Personally, I did like the poem."
"Thank you, Lord Seneschal." I said.
"It is likely that we will call upon you again." Abelard said. "The Lord Captain sometimes entertains guests, and will require excellent entertainment."
"They are who I live to serve." I said.
"Acceptable." He said. And with that we were back at 8796's corner, and I had one hour before shift started again. Frak it. What I had was too good. I woke everyone up, and showed them my prize for entertaining a noble. Everyone stared at the apple like it was some long forgotten holy relic.
Kyrx took it from me, and took out a knife from his pocket. He carved a small sliver off it and tasted it. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he passed the apple and the knife to me. I took my small slice, and yep…you really learn to appreciate how fraking fantastic the little things are when you've gone without. Footfall was crying with happiness. The apple and knife was passed around, and everyone got a taste. Then the apple was carefully packed away along with the biscuits and ration bars. Then we got ready for work.
I was not instantly called the next cycle to become the private storyteller to the Rogue Trader and her retinue. I was not called the cycle after that, or the one after that. I figured that Cassia and Celeste had moved on to other adventures and pleasures, and looked forward to finishing moving the fraking promethium.
We were hyped as the cycles went by. Going by our rate of work, we were going to be finished next cycle. A whole cycle ahead of schedule, and we had food and water left in our supply crate. The feeling was that we would have a small feast with the biscuits, the apple, and the rest of the bars the rest period before we had our final shift. Then we'd be back to our families, and I'd be with my new family. Those were a good two hours. I look back on it, and that was the first time I realized that I could make things a little bit better. We were still slaves on a ship so massive we'd never see anything other than its insides ever again. We worked until we dropped. Then we got processed into the same bars we were eating, and no one would ever care.
However, right now we were laughing. Right now, we sang songs. Right now, I wasn't the one telling the stories. We had a mouthful of apple and it was the best thing in the world we had ever tasted. This was everything Footfall had dreamed of when he was small and prayed to a statue he was told to venerate above his own life. Echo of Shaharah was feasting as well. The guys were telling stories to 'show me how it was done' and most of them were funny stories of personal events and family legends, but Kyrx and Irrval told urban legends…well…legends about Calamity's Fortune. About the smiling servitor, and the miracle of the fourth vent. They were entertaining, and the rest of the guys helped by adding in comments and doing sound effects. These were new stories to Echo of Shaharah and I could feel them getting stronger as they heard them. Not, a crazy lot, like a handful of change into a giant change jar that was half full already. They fed on stories. Huh, that was interesting, I supposed.
We finished our feast, and turned in. I slept for 1 hour and 10 minutes. Then I had Echo of Shaharah screaming in my ear!
WAKE UP! WAKE UP NOW AND ARM YOURSELF! THEY'RE HERE!
"Something's wrong!" I yelled jumping up.
"What?" Kyrx said.
"Everyone, get your knives, pipes, anything! Hurry!" I shouted. "Oh Frak! I can hear it!"
And then everyone else did hear it. The chanting, and the screams. They weren't loud, and the engine below us almost drowned it out, but if you were listening…it was there.
"We should run." Saias said. I nodded. Everyone agreed, head to the nearest guard post, find people who weren't trying to kill us and had guns. Good plan.
Then Echo of Shaharah decided that my life wasn't interesting enough already. She made the voice more clear, and made me say it.
"Wait. I can hear someone yelling for help." My mouth said. "It's Supervisor 8796. He's running from them. They're after him."
You wanna know what makes the God-Emperor almost right about humanity? Because when I said that, Kyrx Nebb said without hesitation. "I'm going to get him."
"I'm with you." I said. No goading from Echo of Shaharah. Didn't think about it, really. He was my leader and he needed someone to watch his back.
I say this with deep pride. None of the 8796 bailed. No one voiced doubt. Not even Abelard Werserian would have discredited us if we had ran for the guard post. Probably would have preferred it. But we didn't. We grabbed knives, and pipes, and cutting tools, and what have you and all of us ran towards the noise of the Archenemy.
I thought I was just feeling the adrenaline. I didn't realize that feeling was Echo of Shaharah turning on battle mode, and reaching out to other people. Their people. Cause this is one thing I learned about Echo of Shaharah that made me fear them a little less.
They hate the Chaos Gods with a blinding passion that puts Argenta to shame.
The situation was pretty typical for 40k. Faced with starvation, brutality, and and overwhelming sense of despair, 9128 had turned to the Chaos Gods for salvation. They had apparently started praying to them since before I did daycare with Argenta. Of course, the Chaos Gods can't resist a good joke. They multiplied the boxes that were in the depot as the 9128 were taking them out. They kept praying for strength, and to finish a task they could never complete. This made their supervisor hurt and punish them more, which made them more desperate, which only furthered their worship of the Chaos Gods, and now there was an uprising complete with mutations, warp fluctuations, and signs that something big and nasty was on its way.
Supervisor 8796 had come to the depot early, to get ready for his triumphant finish, and walked into a nightmare. The 9128 cultists were destroying their hated boxes in a blind fury, and had triggered protocols that had sealed all the doors. Now I realize I haven't described the depots that well so far, because it wasn't important until now. The only thing you need to know, is that both depots were in a giant room, and there was a giant chain link wall separating 8796 and 9128. 9128 was in a state of destruction and Chaos worship. Supervisor was trapped on the 8796 side, which had about 20 barrels of promethium left in it. Give or take. The Supervisor was running across this giant more-than-two-football-field sized room from door to door, trying to escape. Only finding every door sealed, or held fast by Warp based energies. So this has been happening for a bit, by the time Crew 8796 was on their way the horde has noticed Supervisor's existence. I don't know if it was personally motivated, or they were so crazed by that point that they'd kill anything living but they started tearing at the fence wall to get to the other side and rip Supervisor apart. Also, that fence was not going to last long.
Thankfully for Supervisor (Never learned his name, ever.) the Crew burst through one of the doors. Thank you Echo of Shaharah for opening it for us. He runs towards us, and before he can push by us I say.
"Your gun! Here!" He presses a small las pistol into my hands and takes off screaming for help.
Now here's where I feared Echo of Shaharah a little more. When they go aggro, and reach out and give their power to other people, doing tactically smart things aren't an option. If they want something dead, they're not going to stop until it's dead. So, now that our beloved Supervisor was saved, did we do the smart thing and run for help and get people with big guns?
Nope!
"If we don't stop them here, they're going to spread all over the deck." I heard myself say. "They could make more of them! Summon daemons!"
"Then we stop them here." Kyrx said, like a hero.
My Crew charged in, just as the cultists broke through to the other side.
I should have detonated the promethium. I curse myself for not thinking of that. I had the damn gun! It would have blown nearly all of them to death and burned up the rest of them. We could have thrown the barrels. We could have poured the stuff on them. 20 plus barrels of flammable substance was right there in front of us, and we never even thought of touching it. It wasn't Echo of Shaharah's fault, not completely. I know that. I felt their frustration at missing the simple answer when they realized it before me. Maybe their zeal to kill the Archenemy made them blind to the option. Maybe the Crew held those barrels sacred in some part of their minds. The idea that we'd sacrifice our family's future and safety and our victory was anathema. Maybe we didn't consider it because it happened so fast, because life isn't turn based. Anyway we didn't use the big red barrels. Call me an idiot. I've done it enough already.
No, instead we in fine 40k fashion, charged the enemy and engaged them. It wasn't as suicidal as it seemed. We had equal numbers. Yes, they were powered by the Chaos Gods, but they were also starving, overworked, and abused. We were healthy, well fed, rested, and in good physical condition. Their weapons were just as improvised as ours, I was the only one with a firearm. We also were being 'helped' by Echo of Shaharah, so Chaos Magic and Warp Fluctuations were not going to screw us. All we had to do was have the dice roll in our favor.
We rolled a single one at the end.
Don't get me wrong, we were kicking ass for the first couple of moments. Breaking heads, jabbing knives, and being badasses. I was zapping 9128s with the gun, hanging back, helping my Crew who were having trouble. Some of us are taking a hit or two, but nothing putting us down, we're putting these guys down and it's dawning on us that we're winning! What we're not realizing is that when one of the 9128 goes down, the rest get a bit stronger, and a bit faster, and their pipes and knives are starting to glow purple. Still, it's not enough, the tide is turning and soon there's only ten of them left. Then five. Then one. We surround the drooling bastard. His head's twitching, eyes rolling in his sockets, and screaming out blasphemies as Kyrx lunges out and jams his lucky knife into the cultist's eye socket. The cultist just stands there, his arms grow limp, and Kyrx is standing there, panting hard. Everyone looking around like…have we done it?
I feel the warp pulse a second before Echo of Shaharah does, and I get out a "KYRX! GET AWAY FROM H-" and then I'm blasted off my feet by the shockwave of the bloodletter exploding out from the last cultist's warp charged body.
Everyone's prone. Everyone but me has lost Echo of Shaharah's protection so the warp is currently frying everyone's brain. Nothing instantly fatal, blessed be the Emperor, but no one but me can so much as stand and unless I can shut it off NOW everyone else is going to start turning. The daemon is holding Kyrx's struggling body in one hand, and holding that big frak-off sword in the other. My las pistol's not going to make this thing itch, let alone hurt it. Kyrx starts to scream, and I know this thing isn't going to kill him. It was never going to run amok on the ship with a bunch of half starved fools. No, now it has strong healthy bodies, bathed in the glory of combat. It's going to break Kyrx, and then the rest of us. Then we're going to go ravage and kill everything we love until Celeste and the others put us out of our misery.
Echo of Shaharah tells me what they can do to stop it. They can save the Crew. They can stop this thing. But they need something first, and only I can do it. They need a sacrifice.
I'm not sure if I'm thankful or I hate it for making me the one to do it. But I was the only one with a gun. I aim at Kyrx. In his pain, he sees me, and…frak me…he looks hopeful, smiles, and closes his eyes. Echo of Shaharah makes sure my aim is perfect, and I get him right in the temple.
Kyrx's body bursts with the charge warp energy and lays the demon out flat. Echo of Shaharah's back with everyone else and shuts off the voices and visions. Everyone gets to their feet, and I run towards the bloodletter. This is part of the plan, but I have a personal goal. I grab Kyrx's lucky knife, the knife that cut the apple of hope, and a scream at the daemon.
"COME ON YA PANSY ASS PRICK! KHORNE'S GOT NO BALLS! HE SUCKS THE EMPEROR'S DICK!" I make probably one of the few times the aquila's been used as an obscenity and walk backwards towards the promethium. Yes, now I had realized it was now an option. The daemon gets up, roars at me, and advances towards me. Slowly. It grinned.
The Crew knew what I was doing. I was giving everyone a chance to get away. Everyone else had families, I was the pick up from Footfall. They ran, they make it to the doors. I kept backing towards the barrels and the bloodletter kept advancing. They were savoring this. My fear. My courage. The archenemy is like that, they crave the noble things humanity can do almost as much as the twisted version. It's part of the reason why Echo of Shaharah hates them so much.
I pointed my las pistol at the barrels of promethium. The daemon stopped and chuckled.
"Go ahead." It said. "I'll just come back later."
"But not today." I said, my finger on the trigger. For a second I thought that this is where my 40k isekai mercifully ended. Stopping a cultist outbreak, saving my Crew, and a noble sacrifice? Not a bad run. Not a bad ending.
But Echo of Shaharah isn't nearly as satisfied.
"Echo!" The most beautiful voice in the world shouted. "Get down!"
I dropped to the floor as the world become all about DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA. The monster roared in pain as bolter shells impacted into it. Then there was the sound of approaching feet and the roar of a chainsword. I look up and saw Abelard cleaving into this thing and chopping one of its arms off. Then she stepped forward, a beautiful woman with long raven black hair, eyes the color of newly born stars, and wearing the cape of the von Valancius dynasty. She held out her hand to the creature, frowned, and snapped her fingers. Then the bloodletter's head exploded.
Right…Celeste's a psyker. Forgot that.
I got to my feet, and looked. There's Argenta, Abelard, and Celeste. Behind them are the Crew, and Supervisor. Of course. Who doesn't love getting saved in the last second by the Calvary. Echo of Shaharah, you cliche son of a bitch.
"Echo of Shaharah." Abelard said. "You are unharmed."
"That's a bit of a mouthful." Celeste said. "You make everyone call you that all the time?"
"Usually I just go by Echo." I said.
"Well, like I'm one to talk. Anyway, Echo, I think I need to thank you." Celeste said. "I need to thank all of you."
I can't help it. It's too funny not to say, and it looks like the rest of the Crew hasn't realized it yet either.
"We only did our duty to the God-Emperor, and I'm sorry, you are?" I said.
Celeste smirked, and nodded at Abelard. "Abelard, introduce me."
Oh by the Emperor it got better.
Abelard stepped forward and motioned to Celeste. "Know you stand before Celeste Benedictus Triumphant von Valancius, Rogue Trader of no compare. Heir to the von Valancius dynasty. Savior of Janus, Peacemaker, Mindbreaker, Lord Captain of Calamity's Fortune, Champion Triumphant of Footfall, Your Liege and Commander."
"Hi." Celeste said cheerfully. Oh thank the Emperor, she IS an Iconoclast.
Instantly me, the Crew, and Supervisor are all on our knees, head bowed. "Glory to the Rogue Trader!" We all said in unison. "Glory to von Valancius!"
"Thank you." Celeste said warmly. "You may all rise. You've earned that." She looks around at the mess we've made of the depot. Then she looks at me again. "Echo of…wait…you're the storyteller, right? The one I sent to Cassia?"
"Yes, your Grace." I said.
"She was talking about it for days!" Celeste said with glee. "About Wine, and Hearts, and Ravens…it was all scattered. She's hopeless. You HAVE to do a repeat performance, just so I know what she's talking about!"
"Uhh, yes, your Grace." I said.
"Perhaps," Abelard says stepping in. "Someone can tell the Rogue Trader what happened here?"
"Yes, Sir." I said. I stepped forward, and I told the story of Crew 8796. It's a good story, of brotherhood and how the small victories of hard work bring hope to the most dismal. How the Archenemy can take the smallest bit of despair and cascade it into a nightmare. About how when true Sons of the Emperor hear their brethren in danger, they charge in to save them, and how they do not shirk in the face of danger, but face it head on. I tell them of Kyrx's death, and I look away ashamed.
"I killed him." I said. "He took me in and I killed him."
"No." Celeste said, reaching out a hand, to touch me on the shoulder. "You saved him. Now he is with the Emperor, instead of being a prisoner of the warp."
"Still…" I looked around at the gore. "We don't even have a body to bring back to his family…just…this." I held out Kyrx's lucky knife to Celeste and she took it reverently. She held it to her ear for a moment and there's a soft glow. Right, psyker. She smiled, and handed me back the dagger.
"Abelard, are you aware of this Kyrx Nebb's family?" She asked.
"It will be found." He said.
"Good. Make sure that Kyrx Nebb's family receives a proper compensation for valorous service, and death in duty." She turned to look at the whole Crew and smirks. "Also, the Nebb/Halcott families…I believe their talents are wasted doing what servitors could do. Let's move them all up to midship, and find them new postings."
The Crew goggles. Just…mouths open, eyes wide, stunned faces, and blinking, not comprehending that God Herself has just descended and uplifted the entire clan.
Abelard nodded. "I, for once, agree, Lord Captain. The Nebb/Halcott families are sensible and hard working. I feel they will be an asset to midship."
"Splendid! But not you, Echo." She turned and pointed at me. "You can go help your family move, but then you've got to report to your new duties." She grinned. "Abelard will inform you." She then leans in and whispered in my ear. "Don't tell anyone, but Argenta thinks you're cute."
"Thank you, your Grace?" I said, flummoxed.
"Good! Alright, let's find a vox and see how Cassia's doing. Also, nice shooting Argenta!" Celeste said as she walked away, chattering pleasantly.
Argenta looked at me over her shoulder and gave me an earnest smile and a firm nod. I nodded back, and she turned away.
"Umm." Codger looked to Abelard. "Sir?"
"Yes?" The Seneschal asked.
"Do we have to finish moving the barrels?" The Crewman said. "Cause we can do it right now, Sir."
I swear to the God-Emperor, the man nearly cracked a smile.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone