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Chapter 69 - 6+

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

Take your gifts, immigrant.

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

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

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

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

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

I opened it from the sides and peered inside.

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

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

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

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

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

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

++++

It was a mistake to put it out of mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No, just tell them your name."

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

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

"Magos Acerak."

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

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

"Sir! Take that seat towards the back!"

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

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

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

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

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

"Good. I think we can start."

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

I raised my hand. Several others did the same.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

++++

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sir. How can I help you?"

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

"You mean humanity's, or…"

"I mean this ship."

"Oh. Then, no."

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

"What kind?"

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

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

"An incursion? Explain."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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

"And that will not cause any problems?"

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

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

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

"The navigator tells me two weeks."

++++

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This? This was a full-on party.

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

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

"Come on, I see my friends!"

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

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

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

"Hi there," I greeted.

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

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

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

"Good idea. Acerak, come with me!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Got everything you need?" Nigel asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"He can just use steroids, retard."

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

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

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

"What movies?"

"You've never seen a Toustain movie?"

"No, never. Are they any good?"

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

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

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

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

"Nah, the Toustain one."

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

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

++++

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

I was a thoroughly changed man by my experience.

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

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

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

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

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

Namely, that the latter fucked. A lot.

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

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

Man, this future was weird.

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

Take your gifts, immigrant.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let me explain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…Best not to tempt fate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

++++

"Ah, Magos."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, go ahead," Ramirez ordered.

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

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

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Go ahead."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even the rest of the party had stopped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Anje?" I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello there," Ramirez said with a nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" Ramirez asked.

"You. Imp.pre.um."

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

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

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

Edit: This chapter originally did not contain an explanation of why it was deemed acceptable to drink the Chalcanth. It has been updated to do so.

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