Everchosen : Chapter 24

-991.M41-

-Miracle of Suffering, Segmentum Solar-

-Joshua Pendrarc, Everchosen-

“Still asleep, huh?” Joshua asked, plated arms crossed before his armored chest. It was a slightly awkward affair due to the advanced weapon mounted on his right forearm, but he had managed to get into something resembling a relaxed position with it. He knew that he didn’t really need his armor, he had drawn the Tarot regarding attacks when he woke up and got a negative answer, but he decided wearing it was probably safer than not.

As he had been doing every single day since the initial attack, one week prior. The armor had become his daily wear, replacing his old robes entirely. He was slowly getting used to the uncomfortable feeling of weight and power and things hooked up to his nervous system- the armor was far more comfortable than the golden bugs under his skin. 

A golden maggot chewed wires beneath his right eye. His face twitched. 

Denaira nodded silently, setting aside a dataslate to address him directly. The dataslate was hooked up by wires into some sort of mechanical apparatus, which in turn was hooked up to tanks of unidentifiable chemicals, which in turn were hooked into wires that fed into needles that pierced through Hercule’s slumbering mass at various points. 

The mechanical apparatus, of course, was hooked directly into the cybernetic zombie mounted in the wall of the medical chamber to facilitate its functions, because of course it was. 

“How much longer before he wakes, do you think?” Joshua asked idly, tilting his head and focusing on the slumbering bulk of the custodian. Just about his entire body was still wrapped in bandages and casts, pinning his immense form in place while the regenerative chemicals did their work in repairing the ruinous amount of damage he took. “Days or weeks?”

Denaira raised one finger, then lowered her hand in a deliberate fashion. Then she raised seven fingers.

“About a week huh?” He asked for confirmation, which she nodded to. “And his armor? Can the techpriests recast it or…”

Denaira shook her head then drew a line across her neck.

“Total write-off then.” He muttered, turning back to Hercule. After a few moments of not really knowing what to say, he gave a casual remark. “It did its job, at least. Anything that can pulp a Custodes through their armor like that would’ve obliterated him without it. Two weeks of unconsciousness after…”

He trailed off. A few moments of silence followed in the quiet of the private medical chamber. Joshua sighed. “It was a very big bomb.”

What a non-statement. He really didn’t have the charisma to maintain a rousing conversation with two people who couldn’t talk back. He sighed and shook his head, waving a hand to brush away the awkwardness and turning towards the entrance of the chamber. “I’ll visit again soon, send me word if he wakes up earlier than expected, alright?”

Denaira nodded dutifully, watching him as he opened the door and stepped through. A golden hand reached out to tap the button that opened the door as he approached, then tapped it again as he passed through the archway and into the great hall of the medical wing. He figured he should get constant practice with the ability, so he had been using it for countless minor activities for a few days now. Opening doors, closing doors, grabbing books, lifting himself off the ground in his room- things of that nature. 

Three figures saluted him as he exited the medical chamber. A man in carapace armor, a woman in power armor, and a transhuman man in power armor. A guardsman, a sister of battle, and a space marine. The newest members of his interim honor-guard. They had showed up at his door a few days ago and had since robotically followed him around and stared daggers at anything that was within line of sight of him. 

They dropped their salutes as he nodded at them and fell into a lockstep following him down the hall. 

They were all silent as they walked. Joshua wasn’t really sure where he was walking to either, so nothing was being accomplished. As he walked, the clear realization that he knew next to nothing about all three of his new bodyguards came to him. Despite them shadowing his movements for a few days now, there hadn’t been any point where an actual introduction had taken place. They were just at his door when he woke up one morning, and he had gone about his business after. 

Perhaps he had been hoping that Hercule had been recovered already so he could tell these strangers to leave.

He exhaled, half amused and half irritated at his own rudeness. “I realize that I never asked for your names.” He commented conversationally, turning around as he walked to address them, walking backwards through the halls. 

He didn’t need eyes to see, not since his binding ritual, so he could take the turns as they came up without any issue. 

The three guards looked down at him, but none of them said anything. 

He quirked a lip and raised a hand to scratch the side of his head. “I suppose I should be more direct until we’re more familiar.” He mused. “Introductions, I’ll feel bad if I don’t know how to address any of you.” 

He let the hand fall to his chest, fingers splayed. They took a corner in the hallway. “Joshua Pendrarc, pleased to meet you.” He gave a sincere smile and nod as he spoke, being polite cost him nothing after all. 

They were awkwardly silent for a moment, glancing between each other to see who would try to introduce themselves first. Eventually, the space marine broke the silence. “I am Aias, formerly serving as honor guard to Chapter Master Milton, now sworn to you, Lord Vessel.” 

He was a member of the Night Hunters chapter, with dark blue plates of armor save the right arm, which was entirely black. He had a massive ‘I’ emblazoned on his right-hand shoulder and a bloody stone wheel painted on his left, with the aquila-skull thing emblazoned across his broad chest. 

Unique compared to his rank-and-file brothers was his helmet and armaments. He carried an immense round shield with thick, bladed edges and a second handle mounted along its interior rim. His helmet had two large, curved horns rising from its ‘brow’, with a crest swooping back between the two horns. Beyond that, he carried a standard looking bolter, a bolt-pistol on his hip, a dagger in its sheath, and other minor accessories. 

“Diana, Your Divinity. I was given the honor of serving you, and I will uphold that honor with my life.” The sister of battle declared, plating a bulky gauntlet against her rounded breastplate. She was a member of the Order of Ebon Chalice, clearly, with black armor and fabrics dyed white with red interiors. Her long segmented skirt was emblazoned with the black, burning chalice of her order, and her face was covered by a black helm with a white visor. 

She was equipped with a bulky gauntlet that Joshua recognized as a power-fist, connected to the power-pack on her back with a long, thick cable. Curiously, a sort of barbed hook and winch apparatus was mounted on the forearm-plate of the same arm that carried the power-fist, of what purpose he did not immediately recognize. A large flamer- a kind of advanced flamethrower, was carried in a strap over her other shoulder, and a melta-pistol was sheathed at her hip. 

He nodded to show that he heard, then turned to the last individual. The guardsman in carapace armor who was walking on his right hand side, formerly his left when he was still walking forwards. 

The guardsman took a moment to respond. 

“Heinrich Hellgonne. Militarum Tempestus. How would you like me to address you?” The voice was almost entirely without emotion or inflection, somehow even more robotic than some of the actual cyborgs he had spoken to while aboard the Miracle of Suffering.

Joshua raised a brow. “Just Joshua is fine.”

Militarum Tempestus. He mentally updated his classification of the soldier before him. There were three broad categories of soldier that made up the common fighting men of the Imperium. The Planetary Defense Force, which could include literally anything the planet had on hand and could be of theoretically any quality. The Imperial Guard, which was made of masses of conscripted or recruited soldiers given months of regular training and standard arms, armor, and tactics regularly moved between planets to react to threats that the PDF could not.

And the Tempestus Scions, or Stormtroopers. Men and women selected and recruited from elite war-academies for their general excellence, given some of the very best arms and armor the Imperial Guard could afford, and indoctrinated until they possessed a suicidal level of desire to accomplish their missions. 

The specifics of their training varied across the imperium. Just like everything else, it wasn’t standardized.

The stormtrooper nodded. “Lord Joshua.” After that, the stormtrooper paused again, carefully considering his next words. “I have been commanded to defend you. I will do this to the best of my abilities.”

This one looked to have perhaps been indoctrinated a bit too hard. His carapace armor was a dull, burnt umber red with golden trim and a black underlayer. He carried a non-standard lasgun on a strap slung over one shoulder, a las-pistol at his belt, and a variety of other small weapons and equipment pouches. 

“Glad to hear it.” Joshua smiled and nodded at all three of them, turning as he stepped to start walking forwards again, just in time to turn down another broad section of hallway and enter into the chamberway that led to the elevator shaft again. “Any hobbies?” He asked, doing his best to keep up a conversation.

There was another long, awkward silence.

“I enjoy studying new topics. I find the passive pursuit of knowledge to be a comfortable and productive means of passing time.” The space marine, Aias, declared after finally deciding to speak. “I recently began reading reference material penned by a carpenter.”

“I like to visit the Penitent.” The sister, Diana, spoke in an almost confessional manner. Her helm turned slightly away. “Shamed they may be, I recite hymns and devotionals to them, and help to clean them of filth, and they are quiet for a time. I hope it speeds them to the God Emperor’s mercy.”

“That’s very kind of you, sister.” Joshua complimented with a smile, making her bow her head, refusing to look at him. 

“Thank you, Your Divinity.”

The conversation settled down. After a moment, Joshua turned his head towards the last member of his interim honor guard and raised a brow.

The stormtrooper continued to walk silently by his side, having yet to answer. The helmet was tilted down and slightly to the side, indicating some amount of thought was being put into the question before answering. 

Eventually, the stormtrooper answered. “There was a game that we were instructed to perform at my schola, which involved a lasgun that only had a small chance to fire if the trigger was pulled. We would pass this lasgun around, point it at ourselves, and pull the trigger. The instructors told us this would help to train our faith and luck.”

Joshua turned to stare at the stormtrooper. He wasn’t sure what expression was on his face, but there was a kind of abstract humor in the man describing such a comically awful schooling experience. 

“Were… did you enjoy this game?” Joshua asked, face scrunching up slightly.

“No, but I was very good at it.” Heinrich said in a manner that carried just a bare hint of pride. “Other children would point at their legs or arms, but I always pointed at my brow. I didn’t want to disappoint the instructors.”

Heinrich nodded, turning his helmet forwards again. “I received a gold star for exceptional performance upon graduation for it. I lost it when the transport my belongings were in was struck by a deathstrike missile fired by planetary rebels.”

Then he was quiet again.

Joshua forgot how comically awful the public education system was, it seems. He was suddenly very glad that he never attended one. Being a random wastrel living on church charity seemed a whole lot safer and less traumatizing. 

—

“Lord Vessel, we were hoping to ask your insight about our objective in the Launcel system.” Captain Bruno said, gesturing at the map of the system they were approaching. The broad swath of the map was still shrouded in the oppressive darkness of the warp, helpfully labeled with a bold [INCOGNITUS], but a sort of ‘expected destination’ scan was loaded into the mapping program and displayed.

The Launcel system, from the looks of it, had about a dozen planets orbiting a smaller-than-average yellow sun. There was only one planet in the ‘temperate’ zone, which was orbited by a lone moon, and both had a list of statistics scrolling next to them. Estimated population, world-class, gravity, humidity, and so on. 

They were maybe an hour of warp-travel away, it seemed. 

The various display-screens for the additional captains were set up, but only about half of the screens were actually turned on and stable, the other half flickered inconsistently with the unreal interference of the warp. Functional, but not consistent. 

Joshua nodded, as that was an entirely reasonable thing to request. He went ahead and drew from the Tarot regarding the question.

What were they supposed to do here?

Patience will soon be rewarded by new alliances and bound foes.

Joshua furrowed his brows. “We are to wait for some time, gathering new allies and capturing some enemy.”

The captains used their servitor-proxies to look at each other, then back to him. The admiral spoke. “How long are we intended to wait, Lord Vessel?”

He drew from the Tarot again, a brief glimmer of light forming around his brow. How long?

The Sun. The Sun. The Sun. 

“Three days.” Joshua replied, lips pulling down into a frown. That was cutting it close. It was entirely possible that the chaos-aligned ships could catch up to them at that time and destroy them, depending on how fast they dealt with the diversion fleet.

They could be on their way right now, or they could still be following the fleet as it took its two-month journey through realspace, there was no way of telling. 

Judging from the quiet murmurs between the captains, they had similar thoughts. 

“Three days then.” The admiral nodded. His servitor-proxy turned to another. “Captain Hampshin has compiled all known information about the system. You may begin your presentation when ready.”

One of the servitors nodded firmly, hands mimicking the motion of reaching over to pick up a dataslate and turn it on, but holding nothing. After a few moments, the face on the screen- that of a deeply tanned man with broad lips and a scarred brow- began to speak.

“The Launcel System contains two habitable planetoids, Launcel IV and Launcel IVa, its moon. Launcel IV was colonized at some point during the Dark Age of Technology by standard means according to the records of Knight House Launcel, who came to rule over the planet. It was supposedly significantly colder and contained more available landmass in that era, but was in the process of exiting a glaciation period that caused its significant ice caps to melt and most of the low lying continents to flood.”

The servitor mimed a scrolling motion with his fingers. 

“Launcel IVa was colonized and terraformed by a second wave of colonists who arrived sometime in M33, exact records unknown. The second knight house, knight house Plaugmann, will be returned to at a later point in the presentation…”

Joshua could already feel a creeping dread, as the captain continued to drone. He would really prefer to just read this instead of needing to have it read out to him.

Could they really not just- deliver a message or dataslate or something? 

Relentlessly, heedless of seemingly anything else, the captain continued to drone about the exacting history and strategic overview of the seemingly very-standard knight world that they were currently approaching. 

All the while the map flicked that ominous [INCOGNITUS]. 

—

The meeting had taken the better part of the hour, most of which was dominated by that presentation. The information within the presentation had actually ended up being somewhat interesting at parts, but completely overloaded with extraneous and seemingly irrelevant details and long lists of battles that the world had participated in.

The meeting paused halfway through to give everyone a chance to use the restroom, get a snack, get a drink, and then come back. It continued for seventeen minutes after that, and then finally the presentation was over. Brief strategic concerns were brought up and addressed, a rough plan for where the ships were going to station themselves was established, and then the meeting was over.

And immediately began the second meeting as everyone waited out the final few minutes before they were at the mandeville point and could exit the warp. 

The military, from relatively brief experiences with it so far, was mostly meetings and travel instead of battles. That was probably a good thing, overall, but his legs hurt from standing still so long and there was a headache building up behind his eyes from how long he had been ignoring the whispers of the warp by focusing on the most dry presentation he had yet experienced. 

Finally, the call came. The Admiral growled out with his half-machine voice. “Mandeville point approaching, all ships prepare to transition to realspace.”

“”“Aye!””” Came a number of confirmation-calls from the various captains, the servitors turning to address their own personnel. Captain Bruno turned and gestured towards the men at the metaphorical steering wheel. “Ready to open shutters when we drop out into Realspace!”

“Aye Captain!”

“Dropping out of the Warp now!”

The entire ship shuddered and ached as it moved between the barrier between real and unreal once again. Eventually, the shutters on the window began to creak and pull open, giving them their first look outside and into the Launcel system.

Honestly, it looked pretty unremarkable at this distance.