Herald of the Stars - A Warhammer 40k, Rogue Trader Fanfiction

“There is something different about you, Magos,” says Ylien. “You are not an easy man to read. Old, at least, I can tell that much. That, and hate. Not the ignorant disgust of thoughtless bigotry you humans wallow in, but something personal. It makes your offer surprising.” He spreads his arms in a wide gesture, “You offer, not equality, never equality,” he giggles, the laughter more like wind chimes than a human voice, “but a chance and choice to your most hated foe. A boon of healing too; an act of kindness from one slave to another, perhaps?”

Ylien sighs and hunches back in on himself, “Death or service. The Path of the Imperial, yes? A dao of your own. That you compare death or service to the Path of the Exile, is telling. I wonder how alike we truly are, for isn’t that which we hate the most our daily reflection?” A hint of despair creeps into his voice. “Hating what we see in ourselves, what we have become through folly and wrong turns, our fate twisted by others against our will. To see that face staring at us, talking at us from the face of a xeno. So familiar and alien, all at once, and thus we hate it for the discomfort it brings.”

I laugh, “Not in the slightest, Ylien. At least for me.”

“Truly? How low I have fallen, unable to divine the thoughts of the mon-keigh.”

“Your answer, Ylien. Death or service.”

“Service. I did not survive my vile cousins to choose death at the hands of another, for, as you were swift to point out, even in death my torment would not end.”

I mock him with an exaggerated bow, “Your new path awaits, you need only take the first step.”

Ylien scowls, “Where do you lead, Magos.”

“The medicae deck.”

“Ah.”

After dealing with the eldar and implanting a few discrete safeguards, I spend some time in the melodium, a small room filled with moving brass panels, gilded pipes, horns, and hundreds of other musical instruments, all plucked and played by skeletal hands and false lungs. It is a bizarre mix of recorded sounds, played live, and gently transmitted through the void ship, or captured within its wheezing walls for a small audience.

If all it did was recreate every known instrument, I would, instead, enjoy the concerts and shows crew put on in their spare time, or the choral performances of the Imperial Cult. Mechanicus music can be good, but you're as likely to get someone screeching in techna-lingua as you are carefully selected industrial sounds turned into a soothing, cacophonous harmony.

Much like nature, all things bright and beautiful in the Imperium hold a sinister purpose, for the melodium can, with subliminal infra-harmonics, permanently boost the loyalty and motivation of all who hear it, or carefully tease open the tightest of purses in a difficult negotiation. It doesn’t even have to be playing music to do this, a normal ear just won’t pick up on the sounds it broadcasts.

I have to be careful with the melodium though as all my personnel are highly educated and, as they increase the quantity and quality of their implants, may notice the strange frequencies hidden within the vox broadcasts throughout the vessel, or notice I have installed unusually complex vox hardware. I didn’t build it to brainwash my crew though. I don’t need to because I don’t treat them like shit. Instead, I have three experiments I wish to run.

I am hoping I can use the music to transfer the tau prisoners’ brainwashing from their ethereal leadership to mine. The tau, like my own personnel with their subservient genetic propensity, are vulnerable to such manipulations. Unlike my Marwolv genetic stock crew, the tau are not in a position to complain about it if they find out. I don’t mind using its morale boosting properties for all my crew though.

The second experiment I wish to run is to see if the mental conditioning used on space marines, commissars, and other imperial roles that require hyper-robust psychies can be done via the melodium, rather than the more direct and brute force hypnosis devices and drug regimens that are usually used.

While these standard methods are fast and effective they forcefully set the subject’s brain in specific patterns that cannot be changed. This usually results in somewhat static thinking and inflexible commanders. It isn’t really feasible to condition everyone in such a manner either, even with my wealth, nor do I have the special mindwiping drug they use to remove any personal attachments a commissar might form before they begin training.

I’ve used standard imperial conditioning for my twist catchers, who prowl the ship for warp corruption among the crew and machinery, or unwanted, demonic boarders hidden in the shadows. It helps them resist the fear of such creatures and hardens their minds against hostile manipulations. However, I really don’t want to use it on my officers unless I absolutely have to. Ideally, I’d like to use music to encourage the natural formation of resilient psychies over months or years, making my whole crew resistant to hostile mental manipulation, fear, and trauma.

Last of all, I want to find music that can weaken and repel demonic influence. I’ve no idea if it exists, but I think if I set Machine and Imperial Cult rituals to music and spread the belief that specific music will keep a person safe, then combine that with the hypnotic capabilities of the melodium to boost the confidence of the crew, it will become a self-fulfilling statement. In theory, this should build up the power of faith required to create anti-demonic music, even if none exists before it.

Besides, if the dumbass chaos noise marines can manage the opposite effect, invoking fear and bursting eyeballs, I don’t see why I can’t manage a similar, more subtle and positive effect. I won’t be summoning demons in double blind studies to confirm the effects though, so creating and testing music as an anti-demon weapon will be challenging and I will likely need to acquire data from other, less scrupulous studies and deploy specialised vox broadcasters when tackling demonic foes.

As the music washes over me and my anger at the eldar dissipates, I finally have the space to think about the battle that my water navy took part in and start going over the official reports that are starting to trickle in. Within, I find a strange discrepancy.

My kill count does not match the number of reported dead or the estimated size of the eldar raiding party. Where did the extra thousand kills come from and why is there another jewel on the skull’s crown? Do I not have to slay the leaders personally to benefit?

What is the main difference between an eldar, ork, tau, or human that might account for this discrepancy?

Well, the crown jewel must have come from the dark eldar archon, and clearly ‘by my hand’ means by anyone within my command and at my orders. It works that way for normal kills, so it should be less of a surprise than it is. There must be specific criteria to count as a crown kill though as I didn’t get one for bombing the ork army, or taking out their hovering fortress.

The differences between eldar, ork, tau and human are myriad, but eldar have one specific trait that separates them from all the other dominant species that I know, and that is the strength of their souls, though astral body might be a better description, as I still get kills for demons. That suggests my kill count is something else entirely.

I laugh; apparently I’ve been playing Dark Souls, Sci-Fi edition for decades without realising it. How ridiculous.

“Am I right, E-SIM? Is that enough reasoning with evidence for you to offer more in-depth information?”

++Yes, Aldrich. You are correct. I will confirm further extrapolations.++

I watch metallic hands pluck at strings with carefully calculated imprecision, giving the music the natural variance of a live performance while I work through my thoughts.

As enemy fatalities were always lower than my kill count so far, I had assumed it was to do with distance and my indirect influence. There must be more to it though, the discrepancy in kills suggesting it’s not just about distance and how direct a hand I had in a person’s death, though that clearly plays a role as I always get one for one if I do it myself. Comparing battle records to my kill counts implies that second hand ork kills are almost worthless, and tau are not much better either.

This tracks with what I know about orks, as souls likely mimic the body and mind, or perhaps the other way around. Orks are empty of thought and tau are psychically dull and one dimensional in their beliefs. Human souls are, I think, the average by which my ‘kill count’ is measured. Eldar souls are old, rich and powerful, making them more valuable, I expect.

Crowns? Well, crowns are more than just about leadership, or I would have probably received another for the ork army. If not leadership, then influence is the next probable factor. The quantity and quality of people an individual has had a hand in shaping.

“Am I still on track?”

++Yes.++

Like standard kills, there must be a balance between how great a hand I had in their death and the extent of their influence, or I would have received one for the tau ethereal or whoever led the ork army. I earned a crown for the ork boss because I personally slew him. It is also possible I missed out on the ethereal crown kill as the eldar controlling the razor wings may have snatched his soul without me realising it.

The archon gave one despite my indirect influence on his death because the archon himself was likely ancient and highly influential himself. It is also possible him being an eldar, or his own soul fat with others, increased its worth as well.

That leaves the question of why.

There must be something about collecting souls that is required for my implants. It is not the arbitrary limit I thought it was. The way kills charge my implants is clearly just a side benefit too, as the warp tap manages to power them just fine. All my implants are specialist arcanotech, even the black skeleton has a different composition to the standard imperial version, so it must have something to do with that. They’re not crafted with souls, otherwise that would be in the narrow STCs E-SIM has me learn. What is it that I am missing? What is the missing ingredient?

++You’re almost there, Aldrich.++

I pace around the melodium, “Oh, gods. It’s me, isn’t it? There are two parts to every implant. The implant and the user.”

++Well done.++

“The kill count limits the number of implants over time, so they must have a hidden cost, or all arcanotech does in general. No one has noticed because most don’t use more than one or two devices and sometimes it kills or wears down the user anyway. That is usually considered bad compatibility, or a faulty device. It probably is in some cases, but there must be more to it. My implants get more expensive with each one I buy as well, so whatever you're using them for, E-SIM, must require more resources to improve the more enhanced it is.”

++I can see the idea flittering on the edge of your mind, Aldrich. You know what it is. You’ve touched on the idea before.++

I rest my head against the wall and mutter, “It’s souls. It’s always souls. Enlightened Self Interest Module,” I snort, “you use souls to fertilise my own. What am I, some kind of space cultivator?” I groan, “No, that would be far to tame. You made me a soulphage.”

++No Aldrich, not even I can make such changes, only give you the tools to make use of and enhance your own talents. Not anyone can use an E-SIM, otherwise there would have been no need to preserve your body for millenia. You share a lot in common with a titan princeps and are equally as rare. Like a princeps, it is a mutation in your soul, or astral body. I doubt even an adaptive, fully sentient STC could replicate it. There were only tens of thousands of you on that station after all, not billions. Though I am certain the researchers tried.++

“Who’d have thought my batty old mum was right.”

Thunderous mechanisms clunk and grind within my head. Was that laughter, from a machine-spirit?

++Oh yes, Aldrich. You are terribly special.++

“Wonderful.” I listen to the music for another thirty minutes. “Any other world shattering revelations you care to drop on me today?”

++For all that I am always in your thoughts, we do not speak often. It is important to make it count.++

“I’m fairly numb to big shocks these days. You’re stalling, E-SIM, trying to soften the blow so I will agree. What is it?

++You already know.++

“Ergh.”

++The time for doubt and hesitation is over, Aldrich. You finished your navigator studies four months ago. You’ve even built out the facilities for treating Quaani already.++

“Fine. I’ll head to Quaani’s chapel and then you can start the process.”

I leave the melodium and shuffle through Distant Sun feeling like a condemned man. I’ve done a lot of dumb shit since I woke up in the forty-second millennium. I wrestled a screamer bare handed on my first day, then later I traded with a gretchin, duelled a demon and a warboss and, arguably the most stupid and recent of them all, I have made a deal with an eldar warlock.

Ylien is going to screw me over in some way, I just know it. Hopefully his inevitable and timely betrayal will be worth the cost of the knowledge he imparts.

My next foolish endeavour will have much greater, and eternal, consequences. When I first saw the option, I was relieved that all the psycher options were greyed out. E-SIM eventually rebuilt the data, co-opting the research module and my advanced auspex to do so.

Even after they became available, I always promised myself I would never touch them. What need have I of sorcerous might when I can craft the miracles of the mechanicus? None, I thought. Then Quanni got sick, his body consuming itself as it tried to contain the powers his ancestors bred him for without leaving him the knowledge of how to do so.

Now I have to choose between the life of my son, adopted though he may be, and putting up with demons nattering constantly in my head and trying to manipulate me. I also have my crew to think of. Half a million men and women, not including servitors, all following my lead and expecting me to do right by them. Promises to myself were fine when it was just me trying to survive, but keeping them when it puts at risk those who place their trust in me just isn’t who I am.

I do not undergo this transformation for altruism or logic, but the greatest sin of all.

Pride.