Chương 207: Chapter Two Hundred and Seven

A flat and halting synthesised voice comes from the dataslate in Owen's hand.

"There will be no more... defeat. Give me best. Price... map... Chorda..." ++Connection Lost. ++ Owen taps the dataslate, "That's all we're going to get out of him. He's passed out."

"My best would be the full bionic conversion, then making him a Knight pilot," I say. Raphael purses his lips, then says, "I cannot permit the Barghest Chapter to be subverted in such a manner. Letting Magos Issengrund control the life of a Force Commander is not acceptable, no matter how amiable he may be. I certainly can't let you put him in a Knight either. Can you imagine the fuss the Knight Houses would raise if a Space Marine sat on a throne mechanicum?"

"It is not the place of the Inquisition to have so much say in our internal matters," says Balor, "but Verlin's choice does not rest well with me either. The Force Commander is one of our best combatants. It would be a waste of his skills to leave him to languish in an inferior frame yet I do not trust the longevity of custom bionics either.

"A Servitor body with an original pattern dreadnought where the pilot could still leave would solve most issues, but it isn't what Verlin wants. As Space Marines, we do not get to choose what is done to our bodies. In some ways, we do not even own ourselves. We belong to our chapter and go where we are needed.

"The small amounts of agency we eke out for ourselves with our singing and other hobbies are what keep us grounded and shield our minds from eternal war. To deny Verlin his choice would be a monstrous act as a fellow brother, especially one so badly wounded in the line of duty. It sets a terrible precedent and would damage our morale for centuries." I say, "There is far more at stake here than I realised."

"You are not a marine. Your ignorance is expected," says Balor. Wow! I dare say Balor is worse at diplomacy than I am. Owen says, "Then have him step down from his position as Force Commander and become a Champion instead. Tech-Marine Balor, could you not take over?"

"That is not workable," says Balor.

"My duty is to the machines and wargear of the chapter. I do not have time to be both Force Commander and Tech-Marine. There are only two others in this strike group and we have decades of work ahead of us to repair and replace all the wargear we lost against the Chaos Knights."

"The Stellar Fleet will replace your gear," I say.

"It is part of our agreement."

"Even if you do," says Balor, "It must still be repaired. Every power armour of the chapter is precious and we cannot afford to discard anything that might be salvaged. You never know when you might need it."

"Fair enough," I say.

"Would Odhran be acceptable as Force Commander? While his loyalty is to me, I see how much that costs him. With the Barghests working for me, he could return to his chapter without impacting his honour. At the very least, it would give your chapter the time to build up your veterans again and train several possible replacements." Raphael scoffs, "That's just the same problem in a different package, but it is the start of a solution."

"You clearly have something in mind, Inquisitor," says Owen.

"Please share your ideas with us."

"Magos Isengrund will give Verlin the body of his dreams. Verlin will become Company Champion. Sergeant Odhran becomes Force Commander. Both Odhran and Verlin will train new officers. In return, Magos Isengrund accepts Tech-Marine Balor and the other two Tech-Marines as apprentices, providing the Barghest Chapter with a path to independence from Magos Isengrund's monopoly of rare body replacements.

"Once the Tech-Marines' education is complete, Verlin can return to being Force Commander. Odhran returns to Magos Issegrund's bodyguards. Replacement officers would be available should Verlin perish in his role as Champion. Magos Issengrund's payment for this technology is the map to Chorda. Verlin must have had a good reason to offer it."

"That's not impossible," I say.

"You have absolutely no idea of what you are proposing though. I was not exaggerating when I said it would take a thousand years to teach someone how to build my body. I could ask any price for it, save the Golden Throne itself, or the position of Fabricator General. There is a good reason why I have tens of thousands of students, but Róisín is my only proper apprentice. Unless Chorda is a planet of solid adamantium, or Warp infused materials, it is not worth my time, or that of the Barghest Chapter."

Raphael frowns, "Space Marines learn faster, do they not? You have other ways to speed learning as well. Teaching engines and simulations at accelerated speed."

"Inquisitor, my acceleration lets me live 360 years for every day that passes. It took me over twenty years, of standard time, to complete my research for my body, even with the aid of an ancient database and a powerful cogitator. That's almost two point six million years. Those twenty years alone make me subjectively older than my own species by more than eight times.

"Even for a Transhuman mind, Balor will not learn that quantity of data without additional implants and memory techniques. There is a very good reason why Dark Age Humanity left most of their knowledge in the hands of the Stone Men and their adaptive STCs. Few have the fortitude or pressure to drive them to indulge in that much studying. Faith in the Machine-God is arguably the key reason why Humanity pulled itself out of techno-barbarism.

Survival does not require such will power, but worship is a different beast." Praise the Machine-God I can partition my mind and run different parts at different speeds or I would be quite mad by now. Neither do my artificial minds pass on the burden of time to my prime ego. It almost makes me pity the Necrons. I bet they have even more powerful minds. No wonder they spend so much time sleeping. JK-404 laughs, "Even a Logis would baulk at that much time crunching numbers. You are one-of-a-kind Magos Issengrund."

I see the moment in Raphael's mind where he recategorizes me from bumbling, eccentric Magos to an enemy he must appease at all costs. I drop my smile, "Rapahel. No one has ever explained to you what it means to be Post-Human, have they? It's not just me. Every Tech-Priest is similar to some degree. Balor too, with his Cortex Implants. High administrators, Fleet Admirals, the list goes on. I am an extreme outlier. Few reach extended time in the millions of years, but tens of thousands? That is not rare.

It is expected.

"It's one of the reasons why I turned the entirety of the Imperial Cult and Cult Mechanicus into psychology and community support programs. Unity of mind, faith, and purpose is key to a healthy culture and productive society. What's more, as my Master of Whispers, you are due a similar upgrade. You will experience all of this for yourself. Save your judgement for another day." Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

"Stay out of my mind, mutant!"

"There it is. The fear that drives you forward. Born of ignorance, yet terrified of what you might find in your search for safety. Inquisitor Raphael. I am going to shove knowledge into your head: every dirty little secret you crave so that you can do your job to the best of your ability. You will likely hate every moment and by the end of it, you will be a Tech-Priest and Inquisitor of legendary skill and wisdom. Only then, will you have the right to judge me!"

"Fine! I accept your challenge, Magos. Why do you have to be so fucking reasonable?" JK-404 claps her hands together, "Now that you've both finished waving your Heavy Flamers in each other's faces, how about we get back to the subject at hand."

"Space Marines typically start to show signs of extreme ageing around three hundred years of age," says Balor.

"While there are exceptions, it is unlikely I will live a thousand years, though that has never been tested. No Space Marine has ever died of old age, nor do we keep records of total up time for dreadnoughts kept in stasis or forced sleep. Some are thousands of years old. Even so, I would argue that the viability of the Inquisitor's proposed compromise depends on the quality of Cortex Implant available." I say, "Six seconds subjective, for every second that passes with a multitasking factor of three.

Typically, you will only be able to use two threads for accelerated time. The third is your primary. It is for walking around and talking to people so you do not go mad living your life in slow motion, though in combat the acceleration is most helpful." Balor says, "Using a factor of twelve, if I never slept and did nothing but study, it would take almost eighty-four years to learn one thousand years of study.

More likely, it would be three times that, so the best case scenario would be two hundred and fifty years to learn how to build a body like yours, Magos Issengrund. I am already eighty. To ensure I lived long enough, I would also require a full bionic conversion and rejuvenat treatments suitable for a Space Marine, of which none exist. During that time I would be unable to perform my duties to the chapter. The thought of voluntarily cutting away so much of what makes me a Space Marine is also rather loathsome.

I did not go through all those surgeries as a child just to throw them away at a later date."

"A rejuvenat treatment for Space Marines would be an interesting challenge," says JK-404.

"I would need to tailor it for your chapter, and likely the individual. You also want me to work on improving geneseed compatibility and reducing degradation, yes?" Owen says, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. This seems a little silly. The issue is the lack of leadership candidates. Space Marines, on average, enter a main battle company around thirty-four, and remain until they are eighty-one, with exceptions of up to one hundred and fifty, depending on how fast the veterans and elites are cycling.

Officers are drawn from the first five companies, the sixth to ninth companies are the reservists. The tenth is the scout company and much younger, between twelve and twenty-one and feed into the reserve companies.

"The twenty-five veterans of the first company, on average, are between sixty-five and two hundred and thirty-five years of age. These are the people you are looking for as Force Commanders, correct? Where are all the first company veterans? Do these not usually lead the scouts?

"There should be at least two veterans in this strike group as well as older marines who have retired due to injuries, but can still take backline roles. While Force Commanders are expected to lead from the front, a retired marine would work well as an interim commander. It just doesn't make sense to me that you lack candidates to take over for Verlin."

"Ah, that would be politics," says Balor.

"Chapter Master Lir did not assign our youngest to a new ally, nor did he bolster our ranks with veterans or first company elites. Most of the marines in this strike group are from fifth, sixth, and ninth companies. Our scouts are still our youngest brothers, but they are full tactical marines who have weathered between seven and eleven campaigns each. They don't need babying by veterans anymore.

"As for our so-called retired marines, we began with fifty of them and after our casualties they make half of our remaining active forces. They are our pilots, trainers, and stewards for our serfs. None of them have ever undergone officer training other than a couple of sergeants and those two are our best trainers. We need them to restore our losses.

"Verlin and I are the only two surviving elites in the strike group. The other four were Verlin's honour guard and they might never fight again, not without Magos Isengrund's bionics, and that would put us back at square one of the debate. So far, Magos JK-404 has stitched them back up with grafts from dead marines, but we need clear leadership now, not after a couple of years of recovery that might still end in sorrow." I say, "Thank you for your honesty, Balor.

The situation is not ideal, but it is good to know where we stand. Rather than continue to talk in circles, I suggest that I place Verlin in a bio-pod and a Janus frame. I will have no trouble improving him from there. Once he is more lucid, he can spend proper time thinking about his options. Apprenticeships will be set aside as an option for now.

"I am not expecting Verlin to change his mind however, so I will ask Sergeant Odhran if he is willing to take over as interim Force Commander until the end of our initial twenty-five year agreement, then we will reevaluate. Should our cooperation end, as decided by Chapter Master Lir and myself only, Odhran and his squad will remain with me upon your departure, should they wish to do so, and you can promote a new Force Commander from the new veterans.

Is this agreeable to the Barghest Chapter, and our Inquisitorial oversight?" Balor says, "I am content and will spread the word among our brothers about the what and the why. You do not think Odhran will refuse?"

"I will likely have to spar with him daily for a few weeks before he is content that I can look after myself, even though I win every time these days, but yes. He will accept. Inquisitor?"

"I do not like it as I still think it gives you too much say in the chapter, Magos Isengrund. I do recognise that it's the best I'm going to get." JK-404, "Well, I don't know about you boys, but I rather want to hear about this Chorda place and the ruckus with the Navy. That sounds far more important than who gets to play kingmaker. The Barghest's are following Magos Isengrund's direction anyway. You're all making this far more complicated than it needs to be."

"Verlin and I will be under a lot of scrutiny after such catastrophic losses," says Balor.

"If our handling of the aftermath is not perfect, we likely will not be trusted to lead again for a significant time and might be reassigned to a backline role early in our careers, or get stuck guarding one of our merchant sponsors. Placing Verlin as Company Champion is a preemptive demotion, but still a position of honour and ceremonial significance that does not waste his skills."

"You're covering your asses and having Magos Isengrund take responsibility for all that follows," says JK-404.

"Magos Isengrund is already responsible for our victories and losses. So long as he sticks to the agreement, it is a non-issue."

"That's rather underhanded, Balor," I say.

"Have I done something to offend you?"

"Not quite. We asked for battle and lost as many marines in a single engagement as we could expect in approximately forty-four years of campaigning. No one saw the trap coming, but that does not stop me from feeling like a fool. Not only that, but our chapter master has hired us out like mercenaries to pay for new ships. I understand the necessity, but it is incredibly insulting.

"To lose seventy-one marines and half our auxiliaries during such a posting just makes this posting an utter disgrace. Sure we foiled most of a huge, hidden plot, and blasted some traitors into oblivion, the exact challenge Space Marines are intended for, but I've seen your forces in action twice now Magos and we weren't really needed.

"You really do need us for what we are, something I didn't believe at first, rather that what we can do. That just smacks of a complete waste of time and resources that could be better spent defending those who cannot defend themselves, not a Rogue Trader, Magos, and Navigator who could splatter our entire chapter across the bulkheads all by himself.

"I will do my duty and complete my assignments with the perfection expected of a Space Marine, but if you think I will do so with a smile after this little training mission for your kids got half my strike group killed, I will die trying to shove your golden, blesséd arse into Red Knoll's torpedo tubes." I scowl, "Well, I did ask. I am going to return to Torchbearer and prepare Verlin's new body. Would you be willing to join me for the preparation and operation, JK-404?"

"Sure," says JK-404.

"I'll set my Servitors to clean out the labs and join you."

"Great. Raphael, please send me a report on the Navy and whatever you can find out about Chorda. Owen, I will catch up with the rest of you another day," I say.

"Good day to you all." Raphael and Owen say goodbye, then JK-404 and I depart.