Capítulo 8: Second Story
So, turns out that moving from Lower Decks to Mid-Ship is a pretty big frakking deal. Like, the second oldest grandma of the group (She's 32 and looks like she's 70.) breaks down crying and calls you a Living Saint big deal. It's where everyone breaks out the hidden amasec, rations, and biscuits that they've been hiding and has a massive party. It's where Footfall got his first kiss from a Halcott girl. It's where lots of stories are told of the clans, their feuds, their partnerships, the tragedies, the triumphs. A great and grand recollection of how after centuries of working the most awful jobs and living in the worst possible place to be on a ship, now the God-Emperor has finally come to them and given His blessing. Echo of Shaharah ate it all up with vigor, and all the injuries they had taken from the fight were healed.
I was a little alarmed at how much they needed that boost too. They weren't acting like it was a big thing at the moment, but afterwards I could feel how close Echo of Shaharah was to exhaustion, if not worse. That actually made it go up a click on the 'trust' meter, if it had dropped a member or two of the Crew during the fight because it was too hard, that would be one thing. However, they had gone out of their way to save everyone, despite the danger to themselves. Chaos Daemons didn't do things like that.
We also had a big funeral for Kyrx. Turns out he was the Nebb/Halcott's leader in general, not just our crew. It wasn't a huge bad thing, there was a second-in-line to take his place, a nice guy called Wage Halcott. He ran the clan while the Crew was out, and next big contract, Wage would be out leading the crew and Kyrx would be here keeping the families together. Death was cheap in the Lower Decks and if you aren't ahead of it, it would wipe out your clan faster than anything.
The funeral was the last part of the party, which turned into a nice wake. People drank a little, said their stories about the man, and toasted with what was left of the amasec to Kyrx's wife, Joy. She, in turn, said a beautiful eulogy to her husband, and then declared that the party was over and everyone should start getting ready for the move.
Footfall's possessions were this: The clothes I was wearing. Kyrx's Lucky Knife. One dirty throne coin. Therein ended the list. I did offer to give Kyrx's knife back to his wife, but Joy said it was mine now. It was actually a really good knife for a Lower Deck crew. Actual plasteel blade. Later, I made a small sheath for it and kept it on me at all times. Really glad I did that.
Soon, everyone's packed, everyone's dressed in their best Regulation Cargo Pants and Regulation Shirts, and we're standing at attention when Abelard arrives. He sees all of us, and there are quite a lot of us, being as we're technically two clans at once. By the God-Emperor, I look around at the filthy 'bunk house' the Nebb/Halcott lived in and marvel that they didn't kill each other, or that a Nurgle plague didn't spontaneously erupt. I see into the memories of the few nights Footfall had in this place. He shared a bed with three other people, and that was considered a courtesy to the new guy. They survived like this for generations…chalk up one for human resilience. Still, that was then, better days are now.
"Come." He said, and we all followed. The stains on the walls start to disappear as we all take the cargo lifts. We start seeing gothic carvings and actual shrines to the Emperor, and not posters or a single ikon with candle stubs. Clean floors. No vermin or bugs. Grandma starts crying again. We start down the halls and we have to stop because there's a window. For the first time in their lives, some of the Nebb/Halcott see the stars. Abelard has to make his voice heard so the group gets moving again.
We get a whole barracks to ourselves. Everyone has their own bed. There is a bathroom. There are showers. We even get clothes. Every bed has two uniforms on it, two! That means there will be laundry! People are freaking out. Abelard just nods, hands Joy and Wage a few data slates, said 'Duties begin next cycle.' and left.
Like Kyrx, Joy and Wage could both read a little but not very well. I was called in along with the two other literate members of the clan and we sussed out the new reality. Part of me thought it was pretty bleak, but that version was still remembering what the old Echo's life was. 40k Echo thought we landed a pretty sweet deal. Lots of cleaning duties, cooking for the Guard, tailoring, some working metals in a gothic kind of carpentry, other tasks maintaining holy sites and performing rituals. The Adeptus Mechanicus had asked for a few volunteers for menial tasks. Hard work across the board, but life threatening? No. When the work assignments were read out and people given their new duties, Grandma cried again when she was given floor polishing. Someone tells me that she used to clear coolant ducts, and had to pray that they wouldn't turn on while she worked or they'd kill her like all the others.
The good times kept coming. The clan now got to use the mid-ship cafeteria. At the appointed times for their assigned jobs, and it was just one meal a day. That meant no more rationing or starvation! Also, Celeste had put in the effort to serve food with taste and flavor, so no more tasteless corpse starch bars.
People really broke down when they sat down on their beds, clean from the shower, wearing actual clothes. There were a lot of people crying, and hugging. I'm with Joy when it finally hit her, and I saw that she was trembling. I sat next to her and she grabbed my hand and held it in a vice grip.
"This is real, right?" She looked at me with eyes full of fear. "They're not going to come next cycle, and put us all back in the Hole. Right? This is…this is how it is now? Please?"
I gripped her hand back and nodded. "It's real." I said. "I'm sorry he's not here to see this. Kyrx wanted this for all of you."
She hugged me. She was still shaking. "Kyrx kept us alive. We didn't get here until you showed up. Thank you, thank you so much. The Emperor sent you."
It turned out, funny joke, I was the only one not assigned a bed. Thankfully it didn't really matter, as some of the family couldn't really get used to sleeping while being alone in a bed. The kids especially. I get some actual sleep, and it's so sweet. Still very short, but more than two hours. The alarms chime, and everyone gets up, gets dressed, and are standing ready for when Abelard, and some mid-ship supervisors arrive.
We give him the data slate with everyone's name put down and covering all requested duties. He states who goes with whom, and everyone marches out of the Nebb/Halcott barracks and into their new lives. God-Emperor bless them. So, there's just me, Great-Grandma (How she lived to be 41 down in the Hole I have no Emperor blessed idea.) who minds the youngest children, and said little ones too young to work.
"Echo of Shaharah. Please attend." Abelard said.
I march from my bed right up to the man and give him a salute. "I apologize sir, for my state of dress." I said. "I was not assigned a uniform sir. I did however, bathe sir, as per regulations."
"Very good." Abelard said. "Your uniform will be waiting for you in your new quarters. Follow me."
"I will not be bunking with my family-uhh-I mean the Nebb/Halcotts, sir?" I said.
"No. The Lord Captain feels you should be more at hand for her disposal. Also, the barracks are unfit for your duties. Come." He turns and marches out.
"Tell everyone I'll come visit when I can." I said to Great-Grandma, and follow Abelard.
So, I'm not living in Mid-ship. I'm actually on the, Emperor be damned, Upper Decks. Gothic architecture everywhere, floating servo skulls bobbing around everywhere, so many candles that probably it's one of the Nebb/Halcott's jobs to keep them lit. Beautiful murals, gorgeous tapestries, and giant statues that look like they took fortunes and ages to make or carve around every corner. I'm living in a cathedral. More specifically the closet of a cathedral.
"These will be your quarters." Abelard said. I walk into my room. It's about half the size of a dorm room. An actual bed against a wall, a small bathroom with a toilet, a tiny sink, and a shower I barely fit in. A small table with a curious device on it. A small shrine set into the wall with fresh candles and four ikons. There's enough room for me to take two steps in any direction.
"It's palatial. The Rogue Trader honors me too much." Footfall's words come out of my mouth. He can't quite grasp that all this space is his and his alone. It's twice the size of his home back on Footfall and his parents had been successful.
"The machine on that table is called a vox-dictation caster." Abelard said. "You will speak into it the stories you know, and it will transfer them to the blank data slates there. You are to do so to every story that you know. When you have no more stories to tell, you will be removed from this room, and taken back to your family's barracks. There you resume normal duties. There will be compensation for completion of this task."
"I understand. It may take me a while." I said. I can feel Echo of Shaharah's glee at the prospect.
"The larger the final collection, the better. The Lord Captain will not be pleased if all you know are two stories and a poem." Abelard said. I get the feeling he still sees me as a nothing commoner, albeit a well behaved one. Eh, I'll take what I can get.
"I know much more, sir." I say smiling. "The Lord Captain will be very satisfied."
"Also, the Lord Captain will call upon you to do recitations like before. You may be requested to do private sessions as well. The uniform on the wall is what you will wear from now on. There are two sets of it, wash them regularly. Appearing before the Rogue Trader or her Retinue in slovenly appearance will be not acceptable."
"I understand, sir." I said. "Does the Rogue Trader, blessed be her name, wish me to be ready with a recitation soon?"
Abelard nodded and gave that 'Good Boy' smile. He likes it when the lower classes are quick on the uptake. "She wishes to have one this evening for herself and her retinue. She specified that you should have ready the stories you told the Lady Navigator."
"One moment, sir." I said, and jumped on the dictation machine. It took a little bit to figure it out but between the three of us inside one head, we got it working. I quickly rattled off a list of titles, and a few other things. I stepped away from the machine and handed Abelard the primed data slate. "This is a list of all the stories written by that same author. I've included how long they are to recite, and what genre they are, along with indicating the ones I told the Lady Navigator. Please let the Rogue Trader see this and tell me which ones she would like to hear so I may be ready for tonight."
Abelard nodded again. "Excellent. She will be most pleased. I will leave you to get dressed, and your work."
"Yes, sir. Thank you sir. Glory to von Valancius." I said.
He leaves, and I am alone in my closet.
I took another shower, with honest to god soap. Footfall had no idea what it was. Then I got into my new uniform. I almost call for a servant to come and burn the Regulation Clothing but Echo of Shaharah insists that I keep them for 'emergencies,' so I stuff them under my bed. I put on my new clothes and look at myself in the small mirror.
I hated it. It was what a 'standard bard's' uniform would look like though a 40k lens. Tights and long sleeves, a pair of gloves, instead of diamonds or other shapes, the pattern embroidered onto my doublet are skulls. I had an actual ruff, and right on my back was the von Valancius crest so everybody knew who's property I was. I felt better armored in the Regulation gear. Still, this was more suited for the spires than the undercity, and I'd be entertaining this evening, so I decided to go with it for now, and see if Celeste wouldn't let me change afterwards. I was thinking this was more the historical costume of the von Valancius storytellers, not Celeste's personal pick. It kinda looked slightly…harlequin-esque really. There was a dangerous thought.
I also finally got a look at what Footfall looks like. He was kinda cute. Nothing like how I looked like back in the old life. Tanned skin somehow, for a kid who never saw a natural sun. Shaved head with evidence of dark hair, but everyone down on the Lower Decks shaved their heads, loose hair got you killed. That would grow out. Teeth were in better condition than they should've been and I think Occupant # 3 did a little dental work. I resembled an extremely healthy, sympathetic refugee you'd see in a commercial. The type activist influencers liked to pose with in their video diaries of how they helped better the world during their summer vacation.
Oh Frak, that's exactly who I was.
Echo of Shaharah wanted to get to work and had been annoying me about it since I got out of the shower. Just to shut them up, I sat down and started talking. First things first, everything Poe went out on a few slates. They were going to want everything that moody bastard ever did. That came quickly enough. After that Echo of Shaharah wanted to go big. Huge epic retellings of vital stories that held the world together before the imperial truth! Gilgamesh! Melville! Tolkien! Tolstoy!
I started doing all the best short stories that ever came out of tumblr. There was some confusion in our little groupthink.
I explained. The boss wanted stories. If we had about twenty or thirty short flash fiction to give them, they wouldn't be upset when I started to take longer on the long ones. This was accepted as sound practice, and soon I was getting fed every bit of flash fiction made by the internet since 2000 AD. We filled another data slate, and move to the next quite quickly. It was actually nice. I didn't know how they were doing it, but I didn't feel hoarse talking so much. I even felt my mind drift as I said the words about a particularly good Humanity, Frak Yeah story. They were going to fraking eat those up! Echo of Shaharah must have been doing the work. I hoped this wasn't a 'Inhuman doesn't realize human body's limitations' thing and I started spitting up blood.
Then I started to wonder. Did Echo of Shaharah know the 40k stories?
They came to me, the Horus Heresy, Gaunt's Ghosts, Ciaphas Cain…all of them. That…had a lot of implications for Echo of Shaharah, but there was no way in the Expanse that I could tell ANY of those stories. Not without the Inquisition, or the Ecclesiarchy, ordering me dead on the spot. Maybe later, I could ask for permission for war records, or make up some reason that I heard someone else tell me about them. Whatever came out was going to be HEAVILY redacted. However, right now? No way.
Thankfully, I still have a large bench to pull from. Also, Echo of Shaharah is fine with letting me stop and get some water. Turns out I have my own cup too! Such luxuries.
I've got a small pile of completed slates full of flash fiction, and I've decided that Hemmingway is as good a starting point as any. I'm actually discovering him myself as I dictate. He's pretty good.
Normally I would have tried something I knew better like 1984 or Fahrenheit 451 but I doubted dystopia would play well in the biggest dystopia ever made. Although…maybe if I rewrote it a bit…the Hunger Games could do numbers.
Echo of Shaharah is fine with redactions and rewrites. Stories are living things when healthy, and they need to fit their audience or you just get angry or confused people. That leads to bad things. Particularly our death, which all three of us want to avoid.
I've finished Old Man and the Sea, and am halfway into For Whom The Bell Tolls, when Abelard knocks on my door and then opens it.
He sees the completed data slates on my table, and the fourth one filled with notes and I get the 'Good Boy' nod again. Really, that's what I am now, other isekai maybe get to be Astartes, or Inquisitors, or frak it, Rogue Traders. I got 'pet.' 'Performing Pet,' to be exact.
"These are the stories that the Lord Capitan wishes to hear." He says, handing me a slate. I nod and accept it.
Let's see, she'd added her own commentary to my list. Heart and Amontillado of course. Then Pendulum because she thinks the title is cool, and Raven because she knows Abelard likes it, because it reminds him of his wife. After that there's a few notes, let's see.
'Heinrix says he can figure out any Inquisitor story, so do one of those 'Dupin the Inquisitor' ones but don't make it too hard, or he'll sulk.' Okay, then Purloined Letter should fit the bill. The Interrogator should be able to figure that one out, and it's never a good idea to make yourself look smarter than the Inquisition.
'Idira says her voices say she'll like the one where Nurgle kills a bunch of nobles. I'm sure you may have some stories that are more 'warnings' than tales of victory over the Archenemy so, as long as it isn't summoning a demon, I think it'll be okay.' The non-registered psyker's probably talking about the Red Death. Should edit that one a bit and it should be okay…probably should look over and tweak Pendulum before hand too, than do it on the fly.
'Cassia just wants to hear Ammowhatsit…the wine one again. Just so you know, she'll be painting the whole time, so don't feel bad if it's not looking like she's listening.' Heh. I should ask Abelard to provide me props. Can't fail my first and best fan.
'Tech-Priest Pascal wasn't interested in coming so he won't be there. His brother Abel will be though. He'll be in the back, and please try to not upset him. This is a big step out for him, and he doesn't like really flashy stuff.'
Abel Haneumann, huh? Tech Priest. A part of many. Nearly completely nonverbal autistic. The most creative spirit ever to worship the Omnissiah. Some of the details are spoilers, but if you rescue him, which Celeste obviously did, and are nice to him, which Celeste obviously is, he composes a poem for you in binharic. Which, you don't really get to see, or hear, in the game for obvious reasons. Echo of Shaharah begs me, they absolutely must hear one of Abel's poems. Okay. But what story would appeal to a tech priest? A well written manual?
Wait…an idea. It's my idea first, but Echo of Shaharah instantly likes it and starts pulling up every variation of the story they can find. Would that work? There'd have to be editing…a near total retelling…but…well…why not? Worst comes to worst, Abel doesn't react to the story, goes back to shadowing Pascal and Celeste is happy because we tried to be nice to Abel.
'Argenta says they'd like to hear some more tales from Shaharah. She keeps saying that the planet sounds familiar to her. Do you know why? Anyway, do the straw one again that Argenta said was so good, but she also said that one was to entertain Jae. After that, she wants one showing how righteous your planet was.'
Echo of Shaharah surges. They know EXACTLY what to tell. Good, cause at that point of the evening I'm going to be spent.
"Also, there will be another guest by my invite. She will not be as interactive as the rest of us, and will probably just meditate in a corner the whole time she's there. She may look strange, but I promise you she's not dangerous. To you. She might be rude. Please don't take it personally.'
Yrilet the Aeldari is going to be joining us then. Great, stink eye from a xenos. This is going to be a very interesting evening.
I nod at Abelard. "I am ready at a moment's notice. Also…the Lord Captain may like these." I hold out a data slate with a bunch of Humanity, Frak Yeah flash fiction on it. "They're small stories that take but a moment to read, and they're all about the triumph of humanity. They could be considered as an…appetizer, to my later meal."
That actually got a smirk out of the old man, but he took the slate. "I will come later when you are to perform. You may now go to the Upper Deck cafeteria and have your meal with the off duty guard. Return promptly. Follow the servo-skull."
"Yes, Sir." I say bowing.
Good news, I get to eat. Better news, Upper Decks cafeteria means I get to eat actual food. Bad news, I have to do it in this outfit.
Still, Footfall is hungry too and it's his vocal cords that have been doing the heavy labor, so off we three go, following the bouncing skull.
The cafeteria isn't hard to find, just a bit of a walk. It looks like every cafeteria I've been in my life. Dull lighting, long tables, people doling out food with no expression on their faces (They do not know how good they have it.), and people eating alone or in cliques. Everyone's dressed in uniform. I see actual flak jackets and functional las rifles. Oh Celeste, how do you like to spoil your crew.
I get my food. Noodles in brown sauce with a piece of something orange that looks starchy. The noodles look like they're made from actual grain, not corpse starch. First an apple and now this? I tell the family that I have a personal toilet and they'll start bowing to me and calling me 'your Grace.'
Sitting alone is asking for trouble. There are always bullies, and they go after those that look alone or weak. Also those dressed like they're about to recite a soliloquy…which I am. I need to at least look like I'm popular.
I see a soldier sitting alone, quietly eating his food, and I walk up across to him.
"This seat taken?" I ask.
He shrugs, and I sit down across from him and start eating. For a while we do nothing but eat. The soldier relaxes when he sees I'm not trying to be his buddy, and after a bit he nods at me.
"You the storyteller?" He asked.
"Yeah." I said. "The outfit give it away?"
"Theodora had her storytellers dress up like that. When she had one." He said.
"You worked for Theodora? You survived the mutiny?" I asked.
He nodded. "Got lucky, was on the loading docks. Bastards were planning on taking them later, so we had a chance to bunker up before they came at us."
I nodded. "And now you work on the bridge."
"Celeste von Valancius gets the best." He smirked. "She actually learned my name, can you believe it? I'm standing there on watch, and she walks out from her apartments, and I nod at her and she nods back and says 'Hello, Batis.' and smiles at me." He shook his head. "My family's served on this ship for years, never even saw Theodora, and Celeste knew my name after just a few days."
"Wow." I said. This might be a good chance to figure out where exactly in the game we are in. "I've heard she solved an uprising on Janus. Do you know of any other deeds I can talk about?"
"There was this thing on Foulstone. She stopped a war from happening. Now they're one of her planets." Batis says. "After that, she just goes out with her retinue and comes back with scars, bullet holes, lots of treasure, and a huge smile on her face."
"Theodora do much of that?" I asked.
"She'd send out people first to get the scars and bullet holes, and when it was all done she'd come to collect the treasure and smile." Batis says. "Also…you ever remember that you forgot something, but you don't remember why you forgot it in the first place?"
"Maybe?" I said, sounding very confused.
"Forget it. It's probably just a warp dream. You think about those too much they'll frak you up." Batis said.
I nodded. That probably meant that this guy had been to Epitaph. Those were big endgame spoilers, so I was not going to push that at all. That also meant, as kind of a big joke to everything, Theodora DID know him after all. Enough to wipe his memories clean.
"So, word is we still have Kiava Gamma and Dargonus to visit?" I said.
"Yeah, but the Lord Captain is still insistent on restoring the warp routes of the Expanse before she settles matters of personal nature." Batis said.
"I'm sorry? My knowledge of space travel is limited." I said.
"Navigators find paths through the warp that lets the ship go from one system to another." Batis says. Yeah, this guy's definitely been to Epitaph if he knows that much just offhand as a guard. "People follow those routes because they're safe. A little while back, there was this big…burst that happened, and now all the routes that we used to know got wiped away. The Rogue Trader, and the Lady Navigator, are plotting new routes to all the systems in her dynasty, especially to Janus and Footfall, as those supply food and trade to everywhere in the Expanse. It's taking a bit, and the really wild part is that Celeste von Valancius is in contact with the Winterscale and Chorda dynasties and telling them about the routes she's found."
"Does she expect an exchange?" I said. "Swap routes, so that the Expanse becomes traversable again?"
Batis shrugs. "Frak if I know. Maybe it's her way of taunting them. Brilliant, if it is." He finishes the last of his food. "Nice meeting you…"
"Echo." I said. "Same. Next time I'll try to be the one who talks more."
"That is what they keep you around for…for now." He smirked and walked off.
I thought for a bit as I ate the rest of food. So, we were in Act 2, and Janus and a lot of other side quests have been done. Otherwise we're just…farting around the map. Now in the game you could only go so far and make so many routes safe, because that kept the game interesting. This wasn't the game. Celeste was trying to make safe routes throughout the Expanse. That could take…a while. True, this world didn't seem to run on 'Game Time,' if she didn't go to Kiava Gamma pretty soon there'd be some dire consequences for that planet, spoilers, but there wasn't that much I could do about that.
Still…securing the Expanse…that could take some time. A lot of time just dictating, and entertaining them until, like Theodora obviously, they got bored of me. I finished my meal, turned in my tray, and went back to my closet.
I decided that I was going to be as hands off as possible, regarding spoilers about the game. Saying you know the future, and then being correct is a good way to get into trouble in any universe and this one has an express way. Anyway, the biggest thing in my world is just going to be keeping out of the way of rogue Chaos incursions, and Echo of Shaharah gives me an edge on that. Unless something WAY off script happens, I'm not going to be kidnapped by Drukhari. I'm not going to be joining the Space Wolves on a campaign to take back a planet. I WILL be going into Necron Space and Epitaph, but I am not leaving this ship when that does happen, and then Celeste will take us back to the Expanse, and I can retire to the spires of Dargonus as the Rogue Traders' personal storyteller. Best case. What will probably happen is that I will be sent back to the family to scrub floors for the rest of my life. Again, if I lowered my expectations to 'Better than the Hole and Work Crew' life was pretty palatable. Throwing the red rubber ball of Apollo around was just inviting the world of 40k to make my life a nightmare.
I appreciate that Abelard knocks before entering my room, but it is clear that it's just a courtesy and a warning for me to be on my feet the moment he sees me. I can tell he finds the Bard uniform a little amusing, as I can now spot the slight twitch in the corner of his mouth that means he's smiling. I salute.
"It is time. Come." He said.
"Sir." I reply.
We do not go to Celeste's quarters, which slightly surprised me. We are at the top of the ship where the floors are carpeted and chandeliers of diamonds hang above my head. I am lead to a door and I enter what looks like a 18th Century parlor lounge for French Aristocrats who are partying while the revolution is outside. Big windows showing the stars, couches and chairs made of real wood and silk curtains. There's a grand piano in a corner, and on the table in the middle is a fruit platter with chocolate dipped berries.
Also, I'm a little weirded out by seeing everyone in more casual clothes. Naturally in the video game all you every saw of the main character was their portrait, and the 3d figure. They were always in armor. Now everyone wearing shirts or robes, and normal pants. Still regency formal with the 40k flair, Henrix is rocking a cravat with a skull shaped pin holding it together, but no one's wearing a flak jacket to a night of light entertainment.
Celeste sees me and frowns and shakes her head. "What? No. Oh no. That's terrible. Who told you to wear that?" She does not like my clothes. Blessed be the path of the Iconoclast.
I look at Abelard. He clears his throat. "These are the traditional von Valancius storyteller garb, as commissioned by Lady Theodora."
Celeste lets out a long groan and glares at the picture of Theodora von Valancius that hangs above the fireplace behind her. "No. Go get him changed into a regular uniform. I can't enjoy this if I'm looking at that all night. We'll wait."
"Yes Lord Capitan." Abelard said. "Come." He says to me. I salute and follow.
When a Rogue Trader has a whim, that get fulfilled faster than anything else on their ship. A uniform is made, and given to me in less than ten minutes. It's a standard uniform similar to the one Batis was wearing, blue and white (gotta rep the colors), but there's a single braid stitched in, and the von Valancius crest over the heart. It looks like a dress uniform for a military academy's graduating class. (By 40k standards it's pretty sparse.) Heh, the Seneschal desired a little pomp apparently. I like it. Less jester, at least.
We're going back to the lounge when an aide runs up to Abelard and hands him a data slate. He reads it and looks at me. "I have to attend to a matter. Go to the lounge, and attend to the Lord Captain. I will join you shortly."
I nod and we split off.
I hear voices when I reach the lounge door. I pause for a moment.
"Why don't you get rid of her picture?" Jae said. "You burned the one in your quarters."
"Abelard will sulk." Celeste said. "Also, that one was her trying to remind me that it was her room. This one is her watching me enjoy her luxuries. It rubs it in."
I knock on the door and enter.
"Ahh, much better!" Celeste said when she saw me. "Where's Abelard?"
"The Seneschal was called away on duties." I said. "He says he will join promptly."
"Alright," Celeste said. "Do you like your new clothes? Would you have performed in that appalling outfit?"
"Your Grace, you saw what I wore before, yes?" I said.
She nods.
"Those were the best clothing I had ever worn before then. To go above that?" I smirk. "If you wished me to dress and perform in a giant ambull costume I would do so."
A small chuckle ripples through the room. Good, that joke landed.
"Ah," Celeste said. "I guess it's my turn for introductions. Echo of Shaharah, this is Seer Idira Tlass, Merchant Trader Jae Heydari, Interrogator Heinrix van Calox, Magos Abel Haneumann, and Cassia and Argenta you already know. That's everyone."
"Almost." Idira says looking over my shoulder.
I feel eyes behind me, and I turn to look. Yirlet is sitting in the far corner behind me, crosslegged. She's looking right at me. I can't not let my first encounter with a xenos go without a reaction or people will think that's weird. I look back at Celeste with a look of concern and confusion. She raises a calming hand.
"It's fine. Just pretend she isn't here." She says.
I nod, and begin my craft. "Then, I am seeing that everyone has glasses of amasec, this evening. That is excellent, did you know they were once different names for it, long ago? Whiskey, Rum, Absinthe, and Wine?"
"Oh, yes!" Cassia says from her corner. The woman is in a long white gown with a giant painter's smock on front. Huge easel in front of her, and a collection of paints, brushes, and mixing boards around her. Girl came to WORK. "Please tell us about the wine!" She says her line with childlike glee.
Nothing a storyteller loves more when the audience knows their lines.
So I tell Amontillado again. It seems to go over well. I almost have a hiccup when I get to the High Gothic because I can see on Celeste's face that she doesn't know what it means. Thankfully, Cassia instantly chimes in with the translation. I know then that I am going to be doing this story over and over again for as long as her Ladyship is on this ship.
Everyone claps lightly at the end, I bow. That's when I notice the red robed figure standing in the other corner by the fireplace. Abel Haneumann. The blue lights of his augmented eyes shift and twitch. He looks a little uncomfortable. Well, that's not acceptable, and I've had experience with this.
"Excuse me? Esteemed Magos?" I addressed him. Abel looks at me. "My next story has me waving my arms, and raising my voice a lot. If it's too much, please raise your hand or mechdendrite as so." I held up a hand. "I will then lower my voice and make my moves less dramatic."
Abel did a slight nod. I looked at Celeste and she smiled at me and nodded as well. Good, she really liked that.
Abel doesn't ask me to stop, and I get super lucky. When the police arrive in the story, Abelard arrives at the lounge. He then, just as before, plays his role as standing there, looking at me as I lose my mind to the beating heart beneath my feet. I finish and everyone claps again.
"That is exactly how it goes." Heinrix said. "Once, I asked a suspected heretic in, sat him down, looked at him for ten minutes, and just offered him a glass of water. Confessed everything."
"That is because the Archenemy is weak, and destroys itself." I said without thinking.
Heinrix looked at me and nodded. "Well said."
"Good, good." Celeste said. "So, now I know why Cassia said you were so good. What's next?"
"Would you like your request, or the Seer's?" I said.
"Do Idria's." Celeste said. "So, this one's about Nurgle, right?"
Heinrix gave me a long, long, Inquisitor-long, look. I clear my throat. "The story takes place on a planet ravaged by a plague. At the end of the story, an avatar that represents the plague appears. The author who wrote this did not know of the Archenemy's specific names or appearances, so while I can see how it may be interpreted, no, that form of the Archenemy does not directly appear in the story. If anyone does not wish me to perform it. It is fine, and I can move on."
"No, no, no." Celeste said. "I wanna hear this, but Idira says it's a good one. Right?"
"The voices have been arguing about it all day," Idira said. "Really, maybe I can just pluck it from his head and skip it."
I had to react now, even thought I was almost sure she was joking. I went wide eyed and looked at Celeste.
"It's fine. She doesn't mean it." She said, giving her psyker some nasty glares. "Go ahead."
I like Masque of the Red Death a lot. There's a couple of ways you can shift things to portray Prince Prospero's party. It can be the progression of age, it can be debaucheries, it can be historical. I went with casting the Prince's party as Nobles who were celebrating the Chaos Gods in different ways. Then, as is their wont, they turned on them as they usually do. Bastards.
Once more, everyone applauded. "See? That wasn't so bad." Celeste said to Heinrix.
Heinrix nodded. "I forgot that your Seer usually sees only a fraction of what is actually to come. It's an an excellent story warning against the temptations of the Archenemy. Well done."
"Thank you, my Lord. Next, is the Pit and the Pendulum." I say.
This story I had to re-write a little, because, to those unfamiliar with the story. It's about a prisoner being tortured by the Spanish Inquisition. The Inquisition are the bad guys. Yeah. Thankfully, you swap that for heretics, and there's not much else I needed to alter. The tension of the deadly pendulum and yawning pit. The resilience of the prisoner as he holds on to his sanity and life. Great stuff. Everyone was eating it up. Argenta was in a simple nun's habit, minus the cowl. She was sitting on the floor on top of what looked like small black prayer rug. She was leaning forward a little, and I realize she's trying to memorize what I'm saying. She wants to retell my stories to her orphans. When I realize that I feel Echo of Shaharah's reaction. They're humbled.
I was reaching the end, and decided that sucking up to the boss was never a bad thing.
"There was a discordant hum of human voices! There was a loud blast as of many trumpets! There was a harsh grating as of a thousand thunders! The fiery walls rushed back! An outstretched arm caught my own as I fell, fainting, into the abyss. It was that of Celeste von Valancius. The Inquisition had entered Toledo. The Herectics were in the hands of their enemies." I finished with a bow.
Celeste colored and beamed. Everyone applauded again.
"Thank you." I said. "And now, I have a puzzle for you. In the form of a story about Inquisitor C. Auguste Dupin and the Case of the Purloined Letter."
Henrix sat forward in his chair, curious and interested. I saw Idira smirk, and I had a bad feeling in my stomach. Better deal with that possibility now.
"Your Grace?" I asked Celeste.
"Yes?" She said, looking at me.
"I am aware there are some blessed by the Emperor with gifts." I keep looking at her and not anyone else. "Sometimes these gifts allow people to see the end of my story before I get there. Once my mother was speaking to a crowd one of her mysteries, and one of those blessed cried out 'It was the Undertaker!' It…lessened the enjoyment of everyone."
"Alright," Celeste nodded. "I promise not to peek at the end. Idira?" She looked at the psyker.
"The voices tell me what they tell me," She said, sipping her water. (She's stopped drinking, okay so don't have to worry about the Incident. It's already happened.) "But, I promise to keep my mouth shut."
"Good." Celeste said. "Henrix?"
"I lack that ability." Henrix said. "But I think I may not need it. I am quite good at…puzzles." He gave me a predatory grin.
"Thank you, your Grace." I said and start the story.
C. Auguste Dupin, was Sherlock Holmes before Sherlock Holmes. He was a detective who liked explaining things to his sidekick. Holmes is better, by far, and much more of a character I feel. Dupin's just clever. Still good, and I'm fairly sure Doyle was partially inspired by Poe. The Case of the Purloined Letter, edited for 40k, is pretty simple. A noble suspects another noble of heresy, and believes the evidence is in a letter the noble received from another suspected heretic. The noble has had his people search the other noble's offices in secret for the letter, without tipping him off because if he knows, he'll just destroy it. At the end of his rope he comes to the Inquisitor.
At this point in the story, Henrix snaps his fingers and grins. He's got it. I hope.
"The Inquisitor walked into the Count's study, and…" I gestured to the Interrogator.
"Found the letter in the pile of letters on the Count's desk, where no one thought to look." Henrix said triumphantly.
"Well done, my Lord." I said. Everyone clapped, and I finished up the story with the heretics captured and given to the Inquisition. The Interrogator looked very pleased with himself. Then he looked at Celeste, but Celeste was talking to Idira. He got a look on his face and looked out the window at the stars. Oh dear. He's got a thing for her. In the game, that doesn't matter…in this case it might. However a real good way to be executed by the Inquisition is poking into an Inquisitor's love life. I felt I should move the evening on.
"Now, bringing an end to tonight's featured author. A poem. This is, The Raven."
Abelard actually sat down on a small ottoman and turned to look out the window. I paused and looked at Celeste. She looked at her seneschal curiously.
"Abelard?" She asked.
"Please…" He said. "Continue." He did not look away.
I got it and launched into the poem. This time I did it much better. Sometimes when you know a story is coming, you get hit with all the emotions you felt the first time you heard it all at once, and then a second time when you hear it again. It's what made Cassia so eager. I had actually hit the stoic old man's heart. When I spoke of Lenore, he heard his wife's name.
Celeste didn't watch me, she watched the first father figure in her life mourn. If Celeste's history was the same as my play through, it was very interesting.
Celeste was born to the nobility, a childhood among the spires of a hive city. She was never treated as a noble though, because she was a bastard. She left and entered the Navy Militatum, and served until her psyker powers emerged. Certified, and trained, she went out on campaigns, until it was found that the same rogue that caused her ignoble birth was actually of the von Valancius dynasty, making her suitable for Theodora's presence and plans. She was summoned to the Koronus Expanse, and brought to Calamity's Fortune. Then the game began.
She never had a father. Barely had a mother. Had been told that she was barely worth what she had been given. Missed being taken by the Black Ships by a hair. Now she had everything, and a grumpy old Seneschal who scolded her like a child. Now she saw the pain in his heart from his loss.
"Quote the Raven…Nevermore." I said.
Abelard nodded, took a breath, and looked at me. "Well said." He said. I bowed.
I clapped my hands. "I think everyone should take a short break for refreshments."
"Good idea." Celeste said.
"However," I said. "While everyone else is refreshing their drinks, I have a private gift for Magos Haneumann. It's a short story, and it is intended for children, but I feel it is a tale of the Omnissiah and his work, that the Magos will enjoy."
"Abel?" Celeste said looking at the Tech-Priest. "Do you want a story?"
Abel nodded very hard.
I took two chairs and I brought one to Abel and sat down in the other. He sat down, and I quietly started to tell Abel…the tale of Pinocchio. 40k style. The puppet is now more clockwork than wood. He is 100% a machine spirit, NOT an Abominable Intelligence. The Blue Fairy is now the Omnissiah. Geppetto is a Tech-Priest. The original story about the puppet boy are actually a bunch short stories about his misadventures and quests to become a real boy. Pinocchio here could care less about flesh, but he does seek to know His True Function.
I tell the stories of how Pinocchio found the CRKT subroutine that spoke of the Omnissiah's protocols, how his nose would extend upon expressing untruths, and how the Hereteks known as Fox and Cat lured him away from attending schola with the promise of new augments.
"And he returned to his progenitor, knowing more of His True Function. The End. For now." I said, finishing.
Abel didn't move for a moment, and I was afraid I had gone too far for a moment, and then he launched into binharic. The language of the Tech-Priests. Now, to me, it sounded like screechy static, but Echo of Shaharah understood it perfectly. I nodded smiling.
"There are more stories about Pinocchio. Later, when you have spare run time, I would be happy to recite them." I said.
Abel nodded and did more binharic. I blinked in surprise.
"There is nothing a story teller loves than having more stories." I said. "Of course you may write your own. I would love to see them. Also, yes, they may be of Pinocchio. He is public domain, and free to all of the Omnissiah's servants."
Abel nodded.
I got up from my chair and turned around. Celeste and Argenta were sitting on the couch right behind the two of us and had clearly been listening.
"Echo." Celeste said seriously. "Thank you."
"You know binharic?" Argenta asked.
Uh oh. Echo of Shaharah's coming up blank. Time for some improv.
"I can't speak it." I said. "But when you're trying to survive on Footfall, if you know it you can get work from the Tech-Priests there. My mother helped me learn."
"Your mother who was also Echo of Shaharah." Argenta says.
"Yes." I see everyone's had food and drink and moved back to their seats. Yirlet hasn't moved and is still staring at me. I ignore her and move back to my spot in the center of the room. "Oh, my mother…if you feel that I am talented or amusing, you should know that I am nothing compared to my mother. If she was here? Winterscale and Chorda would be outside that door on their hands and knees listening at the crack to just get a glimpse! My grandfather would have had whole planets enraptured! The Echoes of Shaharah have faded as the millenniums pass, and in this age it is hard finding people to listen. But we prevail, scattered as we should be, and we remember Shaharah! Jewel and Home. Second only to Holy Terra! There are stories of that place, and I remember them all. Let me speak of the marvel that was the Great Bazaar!"
Then I go into the story I told Argenta about the Market of Shaharah and the Straw Girl. Echo of Shaharah really elaborates on the market this time, now that we don't have a short
time to do it. It really does sound like a fantastic place. Especially in the 40k world.
Just as Argenta predicted, Jae gets super into the Straw Girl story. Before she had been lounging on a fainting sofa, dressed in a fancy looking cocktail dress, with her bare feet on the couch. Now she's sitting up and looking at me. I've gotten to the third trade. The girl has swapped a marble for a thin piece of string.
"Oh, oh!" She snaps her finger. "She finds a person playing a musical instrument and gives it to them."
"Oh, you must know this story, Mistress Heydari!" I say with a huge smile. "For in return, she received a paper fan with a prayer written on it."
"Wait…wait…she went to an old man resting in the shade who was very hot." Jae said with glee.
After that it's no longer a story. It's a game. I keep telling Jae what item the Straw Girl gets, and Jae has to come up with an appropriate buyer. Everyone's watching this weird tennis match between us. It's a lot of fun, until Jae screws up.
"In return, the girl now holds in her hand a golden plate, engraved with the depiction of one of the Saints." I volley back.
"She gives it to a Priest preaching between stalls…wait! No! No!" She winces and swears in her native tongue. Everyone knows why she missed. She already used a priest as a trade.
"Sadly, there was not one of those there at the moment." I said, not skipping a beat. "But there was a guardsman on leave from deployment, and he gave her his spare pistol, worn handle with the word 'Faith' carved into the handle."
"A market guard, standing between two statues of the Emperor." Jae says. I notice that her accent slipped a little, and the look she's giving me is a bit more aggressive than playful. Better speed up the story.
Jae completes the game and successfully gets the Girl her paradise planet of Strawhome. She's back to her good mood.
"Of course," She laughs. "Then some ashmag swiped the whole thing out from under her, leaving her with a single piece of straw."
"Are you telling us how you got your summer home?" Celeste says, and everyone laughs.
"That was good, Muharij" She says to me. "We should play that again."
I now have a nickname from Jae. Wow. I grin and nod. "All things and all people can be found in the Markets of Shaharah. But, there's always a young girl walking in with a single piece of straw."
"I know I have heard or seen that name before." Argenta says. "Shaharah…tell us another story from there. Perhaps that will tell me where."
"I will tell one of the most important stories." I said, and Echo of Shaharah took over. If you find this tale familiar, know that stories echo from one universe to another and they are as true as each other.
"Once the planet had another name. This is long forgotten, and unimportant. It was a desert planet. Not greater than Tallarn or Cressid, but no lesser either. Mostly it was unremarkable. The people diligent and faithful. It's industry steady, and its beauty was pleasing, but rarely the subject of poems. The Archenemy however, decided that it would be theirs.
"The ruler of the world was given the title of Sultan, and he was what happens when nobles indulge instead of remembering their duty. He had chosen his latest mistress from the citizenry, and planned to take her. He did not care for the girl's will, or seek any part of her mind or spirit. Just wanted to consume her body, rip the fruit all the way down to the pit. The girl in question sought to escape such a fate, to be used, spent, and discarded. She found an ally in a palace guard, and together, they escaped the palace. They found a ship, left the planet, and lived an eventful life among the stars. That is another story, and told another time.
"The Sultan flew into a rage. He had been rejected! He had been betrayed! The Archenemy, already present in his lusts, crept into his heart. They spoke lies to him. He was the greatest ruler they said. His law was absolute they said. He could have anything he wanted, even reach out to the stars and take back the girl. All he had to do was give the planet over to the warp. The Sultan agreed without a pause.
"Now, it takes time for a planet to be turned to the Archenemy. Its people must be converted. Rituals must be made. Sacrifices performed. One man, even the Sultan, cannot do this…so the Archenemy gave him powers to make it so. Every night, the Sultan reached out his will across the Planet, and seized the souls of his people and turned them to Chaos. Just a few at first, but more and more each night, and so the planet began to turn.
"Now, I must say that there are three kinds of heretics. The first are the True Betrayers. Those that walked up to the Archenemy and handed them their souls. The reasons do not matter, for they are all the same. Greed, sloth, and envy. They are to be killed and sent to their masters to find what kind of reward truly awaits them in that Hell. Then there are the Lost. These people are the ones beaten by life, often by the Archenemy themselves, and in desperation, despair, and darkness, they reach out and take the hand of the Archenemy. They extend it, offering help or salvation, and this is always a lie. There are ways to save them, but once they take the Archenemy into their hearts, the best way is death. Then there are the Taken. Those are the saddest of all, for those are good and loyal servants of the Emperor, forcibly grabbed and ripped from his sight and made to dance like puppets. They did not yield to the Archenemy in their hearts, and might yet still be saved. Only the Sultan was True, the rest of this planet were Taken. The Emperor knew that meant there was a chance, small that it was, that the planet might yet be saved.
Now we go to a small shop, in a medium sized market, in a city on this planet far from the great palace of the Sultan. It is a book shop, and the man who owns it is a man named Jafar. He is good natured, enjoys talking with his customers, mourns his late wife, and the Emperor chooses this unremarkable man to become the second most important person on the planet.
Jafar realizes what is happening. He does not despair, or seek to flee off planet. This is his home, and he will save it. He starts the evacuation. Shuttling people from the cities, in great packs acting like they're pilgrims, hidden in vehicles and cargo holds, once he hollows out a large loaf of bread, and hides a baby inside it, and walks by the purple eyed guards that watch the gates. He goes to other cities and does this over and over again, out people are taken to the desert. To the sacred oasis that still has the Emperor's protection, and more importantly, the caves beneath. Massive and huge, they're enough to hide thousands and thousands from the Sultan's grip. There, they pray.
Jafar also secures a vox caster and sends out a message to the stars. Help us! He cries. Our Sultan has gone mad! Every night he kills the souls of more and more! We shall fall if we are not saved!
Perhaps it was the Emperor, perhaps it was the arrogance of the Archenemy, maybe it was dumb luck, but he is heard. A ship of the divine Emperor's Angels receives the message and changes course! Help is coming!"
"Praise be!" Argenta whispered.
"Ssh!" Celeste said.
"But…the Archenemy loves hope, for they delight in snatching it away. They cause the immaterium to warp and shift, delaying the arrival of the Emperor's Angels. One of their daemons whispers to Jafar in his dreams, telling him that the help he thinks is coming, will take 1000 days to arrive. By then, the Sultan will have Taken everyone, the planet will fall, and the only help the Emperor's Angels can give will be to announce Exterminatus and destroy the world.
Jafar weeps, for he has tried so hard, saved so many, and it is not enough. He prays to the Emperor for guidance, for help, and he is given it, for his daughter has now had enough.
Her name is Shaharah and she is beautiful. She had been helping her father rescue people to the caves, and secure the transmission. She holds the Emperor in her heart, and she has read every book in her father's store.
The day after her father tells her of the 1000 days, she leaves the caves, gets on a motorcycle, and drives to the capital city, drives through the streets of blaspheming, purple eyed, heretics. She drives right up to the doors of the palace, and announces that she is here to become the Sultan's newest mistress.
The Taken guards dully lead her to the madman. He sat there on his throne, bathed in the power of the warp. He was preparing to reach out again this night and take the souls of more people. Shaharah bows before him, and offers herself to him to slate his desires. The Sultan, slave to the Archenemy as he is, greedily takes her to his bedchambers and prepares to devour her in a thousand uncouth ways. However, Shaharah smiles and asks if the Sultan would like to hear a story first, to help get him in the mood for passion.
The Sultan agrees, humoring what is to be his feast.
Shaharah then begins her story, it is the greatest tale ever told. Words given to her by the Emperor Himself, and spoken by a master of the craft. The Sultan is enthralled. He sits on his bed, listening to the words…and the first night passes and none are taken.
Dawn eventually breaks, and Shaharah yawns and says she is tired and must rest. They will resume the passion in the evening. However, Shaharah has done something, or rather she has not done something. She has not finished the story. It dangles on a cliffhanger, unsaid uncompleted.
If the Sultan kills Shaharah now…he will never hear the end of the story! This is where the Archenemy is weak, for they are creatures of greed and are never satisfied until they have more and more and more. It burns in his skull as Shaharah rests, his need to finish the story and know it's ending consumes his mind and all actions, and the day passes and none are taken.
The night comes and Shaharah is demanded to finish the story and begin the consummation! Shaharah bows and continues, and the story keeps going, and the second night passes, and just as before Shaharah leaves the story unfinished. The Sultan cannot help himself, he must know how this story ends! He must consume it as he will consume Shaharah! But Shaharah has him now, the story splits into other stories, tales have tales hidden inside them, and go off on tangents, every night there is more to tell. Every morning it is not quite finished.
Shaharah does this for 999 nights. She does not falter, she does not slip, she never fears, and she never lets that piece of scum touch her. Then…she finishes the story.
The Sultan howls and screams, and the walls bleed from the power of the warp unleashed. He is ecstatic. He has consumed all of Shaharah's words, and now he will consume her. She stands there, calmly watching this little man jump around. It has been 999 days without anyone being taken. She knows her father has rescued nearly the entire planet to the caves, gotten them arms, made plans, and slowly taken positions around all Taken strongholds.
For now it is the 1000th day, and the skies open and the Emperor's Angels descend with salvos from their macro batteries, destroying Taken battlements and cannons. Jafar leads his uprising against the Sultan. The planet burns in righteous holy fire! The Sultan runs to the window and stares at the destruction. His jaw drops, he tries to reach out and take anyone, but the Angels are here and do not allow it. He cries to the Archenemy for help, but he hears only laughter and scorn as they have abandoned him in his failure as they do for anyone who takes their poisoned gifts.
He turns with rage in his heart towards the woman that has been his downfall, and before he can say a word…Shaharah blows his head off with a bolter pistol she had on her the whole time."
"YES!" Argenta leaps up from her position on the floor. "Glory to the God-Emperor! Glory to Shaharah!"
"The planet was saved, and reconsecrated. Jafar was named the new Sultan. He ruled wisely and well, remarried, and had several children who continued his legacy nobly. The old name of the planet was forgotten as it had the taint of corruption. Jafar, doting father that he was, renamed the planet after his daughter, for she had been the one who had saved it.
As for Shaharah, and how the planet that held her name became the marvel that it was…that is another story, told at another time."
I bowed.
"Please!" Argenta said. "Please, another! I must know what happened next!"
"Why did Jafar and Shaharah run towards the danger?" Celeste asked.
"It was their home." I said. "It was their duty to protect it, as much as any book in Jafar's shop. You cannot run from the Archenemy. You cannot pretend it's not there and it will go away. You cannot hide. You must face it, and conquer it."
Celeste nodded, looking thoughtful. The mood was turning. The story had gone over like gangbusters. Argenta was still about to ask for more, but everyone else was starting to get a little tired of tales and poetry.
Thankfully, there was a piano.
"I think we should change things around a bit." I said walking to the piano. "Would you all like some music?"
"You know how to play piano?" Jae asked. "How does a beggar on Footfall learn that?"
"My mother served a noble who had one." I said smoothly. "She then went to our little shack, and drew the keys on the ground in chalk. She would sing out the notes when I 'pressed' them."
"Your mother could do that?" Celeste asked.
"She was amazing." I say, and sit at the piano. "I'm pretty sure I can get this right…I think something soothing would be best." Echo of Shaharah guides my fingers, and Chopin's Raindrops begins.
Now, Echo of Shaharah didn't have any stories about this piece of music, apart from knowing Chopin's life. It's actually very interesting. However, I had, more specifically, I had written a 40k story about this particular music. (Yes, I wrote other 40k fiction. Shocker.) The problem was that there was NO way I could tell that story. It wasn't that it was classified or anything, it was just…if Celeste, or more importantly Heinrix, looked into it and found out the lie…probably wouldn't end well for me. Ah well, no worries.
Then Idira grunted. "Oh…" She said.
"Idira?" Celeste asked sounding concerned.
"There's a story about this song." Idira said. "The voices…it is…I'm sorry."
"No. No, it's okay." Celeste said. "Keep playing, Echo. What's the story?"
The song's only about 6 minutes, so I kind of went into repeat for a few parts to stretch it out. Also, I was a little shocked at what was going on. Echo of Shaharah had pulled the story from my head, and put it in Idira's. Also, they could apparently be one of Idira's 'Voices' which was a click on the 'Don't Trust' scale about them.
"It's from Krieg." The psyker said.
"No songs come from Krieg." Abelard said. "If so it must have been from before the rebellion."
"No…not before…during." Idira said standing up. "There was a noble who was a composer. His mother was a sculptor, they had a manor in the spires, and their garden was full of carved statues. When the loyalists launched the nuclear bomb to purge the rebels, it rained afterwards. Causing, burning, black rain. The composer watched as his mother's works were all eaten away by the raindrops…that's the name of this song. Regentropfen." She sat back down.
Everyone just listened to the music for a bit.
"I see no grey or black." Cassia said from her corner. "Melancholy yes but…white. Pure white. The marble of the statues. The faces of traitors and arrogance worn away, replaced with the white…ready to be made beautiful again."
I finished the song. Nobody clapped, but I got the feeling that it was appreciated.
"I think…" Celeste said. "I'm good for entertainment tonight. Thank you everyone for coming, I hope everyone had fun. We're going to do this again."
There was a chorus of agreement. People started to gather their things, and head back to their own quarters.
Nobody thanked me. Abelard just gave me a look, and I followed him. Again, I didn't get to see what Cassia was painting. Given how the night bounced around, I had NO idea what it might look like. I was taken back to my closet. I looked up at the wall my door was in and saw I was right below a giant painting of some female saint. She was typical 40k, dressed in armor, halo around her head, smiting enemies.
"Sir?" I asked.
"Yes?" Abelard said.
"Who is that?" I pointed.
"That is Saint Argenta." Abelard said.
"The one Argenta's named after?" I said.
"The same." Abelard said. "You did very well. It is likely that the Lord Captain will compensate you. Is there anything I should tell her you wish?"
"Actually sir," I said. "If her Grace issues a reward to me, please give it to the Nebb/Halcotts. Specifically Joy Nebb or Wage Halcott. They know what they need."
"Very well." Abelard said. "Shall I inform them of this?"
This was a test from the old man. Pride was a sign of poor character. Too much humility was just as bad. Also, this kind of thing got out anyway. I knew what to say.
"If they ask, inform them." I said. "Otherwise, it need not be mentioned."
Abelard nodded at that, and I noticed that the 'Good Boy' nod had changed from 'You are Celeste's new toy and I'm humoring her' to 'You are a good performing dog, and I allow your presence.' Little steps.
"You show great loyalty to them, for how brief your association was with them." Abelard said.
I see Footfall's memories and the story comes easy. "My parents had died. I was a beggar with no work. I was going to starve. Your ship was my only hope. I fought through the crowd of people begging for work, and I got to the front. I begged the officer there to let me on, and he was about to kick me away when a voice called out. 'Hey! We'll take him.' It was Kyrx Nebb. If that didn't happen, I'd be dead. Now I'm in unparalleled luxury, doing what my Mother, Grandfather, and all the way back to the first Echo of Shaharah were meant to do. I don't care if he just needed an extra back or it was a whim, or actual kindness. I have a debt to Kyrx Nebb, one that is not simply repaid with a few crates of food stuff."
Abelard nodded. "Well said. I will make the arrangements."
"Thank you. Actually, there is one thing." I said. "Could I have a set of casual clothes? I don't want to ruin the Lord Captain's uniform she gave me. This is for performances."
Abelard nodded. "I will see to it. Good night, storyteller."
"Sir." I saluted and entered my closet.
I finally got a full night's sleep. It was heaven. Celeste likes the upper decks to wake pleasantly, so I woke to the sound of hymns to the Emperor calling everyone to arise. Very very LOUD ones, as my closet is right below one of the Voxes. There was also a box with a shirt, slacks, and the rest, outside my room.
I wasn't given any new summons the next day, so I worked out what my new schedule should be. Dictate all day, eat my one meal at the cafeteria, come back, dictate some more, sleep, repeat.
The second day of that, I saw Batis in the cafeteria again, and I walked up to him. He nodded when I approached and I sat down.
"What happened to the jester outfit?" He asked.
"The Rogue Trader had me trade it in for something more naval." I said. "It's pretty sharp, you see me wearing it, you might have to salute."
"Only if she's standing behind you." He grinned.
We ate a bit, and then he pointed at me. "They're saying this is your fault."
"What?" I asked.
"We're not going around making warp routes any more. We're full speed for Kiava Gamma." Batis said.
"Kiava Gamma?" I said. Okay, the game was progressing.
"Forge world, heard of it?" Batis said.
I nodded. I had mentioned it before. I didn't know if he'd notice, but you kept your lies consistent if you didn't want to get killed.
"Yeah, well, rumors is that there's some heretic activity on it. It was just rumors, and nothing serious." Batis said.
"Yeah, well…" I nodded. "Isn't when it gets serious, it's too late?"
Batis nodded acknowledging my point. "Still, before it was 'Just one more warp route.' Now she's preparing everyone for a full on campaign. Had this huge speech about protecting the von Valancius planets. Rumors are saying she was inspired after her 'story night.' What was it? 'You cannot run from the Archenemy. You cannot pretend it's not there and it will go away. You cannot hide. You must face it, and conquer it!' That's what she shouted at us. No one's seen her with that…fire before. What did you say to her?"
"I just told a few old stories." I said.
"Yeah, well, we're going to be there once we clear the immaterium so I hope your next story is about-" Alarms started to blare. Every soldier got to their feet.
"Is that?" I said getting up.
Batis nodded. "The ship's under attack."
"Rumors…huh?" I said. Batis gave me a smirk and ran out with the others. I headed to my room. If I wasn't safe there, I wasn't going to be safe anywhere.
And so began Kiava Gamma.
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder