Only Minor Heresy

Zephyrion Neurosage did not glance up from his work when one of his assistants entered the room. He was in the midst of examining the genetic coding of a slightly interesting marsupial that was native to the northern continent. Instead, he asked, shifting between Low Gothic and the lingua technis between words, "What is your purpose today? If you suggest the deadline for the activation of the atmospheric processor will be delayed again, then you will serve the Omnissiah as servitor."

He had been banished to this backwater and had his exploratory fleet confiscated after several dullards had reported him for studying xeno technology. What fools!

They had been absolutely correct, but still were complete idiots! Mankind's technology during the Dark Age was beyond the dreams of the Mechanicus. 

It wasn't uncommon for xenos to steal human technology. So their logic was completely ridiculous. Even if one cared about the stodgy bastards on Mars, one still had to carefully study xenotech in order to find the parts of it that comprised stolen human mechanisms and then free their machine spirits from subjugation.

Stygies VIII wasn't as hidebound as Mars, and he had a lot of allies in a secret society that studied Eldar technology. However, he had been a bit too blatant. His life was saved, once again, but this had been the third inquest in the past fifty Terran years. Everyone thought his future was over.

But he was a Genetor of Stygies VII. Putting him on a world famed for its biological exports? Hah. It was simplicity itself to discover a way to maximise yields, even if he did not yet understand why foreign promethium, even in small quantities, reduced yield.

He didn't know why, but that wasn't necessary to vastly increase yields here. The forges of Stygies VIII had a vast repository of designs, including many that were suboptimal for various reasons, including powercell-powered land vehicles and hydrox-powered orbital-rated spaceplanes, the latter being built even now in quantities in a small orbital shipyard.

They would need truly large numbers of them, as they could only lift about half as much as traditional surface-to-orbit craft, but that was a small price to pay.

But the biggest item he got approved, once he convinced a few friends back home, was a seven-hundred-metre-tall atmospheric processor spike that had recently finished construction in the middle of the ocean. The construction had been an incredible hassle due to the limitations on so many foreign energy sources, but he had persevered in overseeing the thousands of construction personnel.

The Imperium rarely bothered with widescale terraforming operations, but it wasn't as though this knowledge was entirely lost, either. There was just no need, and it was costly. But a single atmospheric processor here would be enough to reduce the trace amounts of synthetic compounds in the atmosphere sufficiently that cogitator models suggested that yields could be increased two or three orders of magnitude less than six months after the processor began operation. 

It was amusing. This planet would have a better environmental outlook than the best pleasure-planet garden worlds due to the use of alternate technology and atmospheric processing. But that was just what was necessary.

This increase in the productive output of multiple rejuvenat precursors would make this planet much too valuable for him to be chained here. But he couldn't be punished again. Therefore, if they wanted to take his new plum from him, they'd have to free and compensate him. Perhaps not enough to buy another fleet right away, but that would come in time.

"Negative, negative, Magos. They are performing the initial start-up and sanctifying rituals as we speak. The atmospheric processing unit should begin filtering operations within the week," the assistant said much too quickly, entirely in binaric.

Then he continued, "I am here to report a possible Heretek."

Zephyrion casually pulled out his Gamma Pistol with one of his mechandrites and held it in front of his body, hidden, as he continued to work with his back to the door. He'd had it with these hidebound fools. If this assistant tried to suggest that he was the Heretek, then he would just shoot him. That's how it always started.

"Oh? Who?" he asked, endeavouring to mimic the sound of interest.

The unnamed assistant chirped a local Noosphere link, which Zephyrion casually opened with one thread of awareness. It was a vid-pict stream from a surveillance system and seemed to be live. What was being observed was a brightly lit room. His cogitator turned quickly, and he felt that it was over eighty per cent that this was in the proto-hive of this planet. The auxiliary accommodations below the surface date to the dark age of technology and are mostly abandoned. The last level was used frequently, as it housed the large power station. The rest of it, aside from some cells for psykers, was abandoned.

"I observed an unusual power draw on this level of the Hive for the past several lunar cycles. Further investigations narrowed it down to an area on the fifth floor, and I discovered this room that clearly was being used by someone. I installed a hidden surveillance device in the ceiling, and observe..." the other tech priest said, mechandrites gesticulating wildly.

Zephyrion could see a small girl standing over an obvious worktable. On the table was a small circular robot. He recognised it as one of the common models that were used for cleaning. It was obviously damaged, and he wondered where she got it.

He immediately recognised the girl herself as the daughter of the new Colonel of the Planetary Defence Forces. She had attended a dinner that he was forced to be present in, and he used his built-in auspex to get a geometric facial sample of everyone there.

"May the God-Emperor forgive the crudeness of my repairs, and may my hands be sure and mind quick," the girl said in a quiet tone before she used a number of tools to quickly repair the motivator of the machine. She was pretty quick at this, even when she had to rewind the motivator.

"Do you observe?!" the other tech priest asked, almost frantic. "She is not inducted, yet she performs Holy Maintenance! Her prayers are non-standard! Heresy! Heresy!"

Zephyrion sighed, which came out as a mechanical rasp. He was still cloning a replacement set of modified lungs for himself, so he was limited to this mechanical replacement for now. 

The fact that flesh was weak was an axiom. However, as a Genetor, he felt that it could be improved. Carbon-based materials could be as brittle as graphite or as strong as diamond, and what was flesh if not just a carbon-based material?

Should he vaporise this man? It wasn't as though he was attached to him. He had lost all of his loyal staff when they took his fleet away and had been given these dogmatic fools as a final indignity. Even if he was in charge of the cult in this system, there was no reason to bother him with this drivel. Plus, this zealotry didn't bode well. It might be best to nip this in the bud before this man saw some of the other research items that he managed to save and bring planetside.

Besides, the girl child showed proper deference while repairing the holy machine. She showed an affinity for the cog, which was very unusual on this planet. She should be encouraged, although it wasn't as though there was a real functional cult here in the capital. 

All of his personnel were either in orbit or working on the atmospheric processor. 

He was curious, too. Where had she learned any of this? It certainly wasn't from any of his subordinates.

As he was about to engage his hardware-based random number generator to come to a solution, he noticed the girl move the repaired motivator aside. Apparently, she wasn't going to reinstall it inside the robot immediately. Instead, she fished for something underneath the workbench and pulled out a weapon.

"Finally, I think my Electronics Repair is high enough to finally fix you," said the girl.

Zephyrion blinked several times as he identified the weapon, his partially organic and partially mechanical eyes widening. He stood up, turned to face the other priest and asked in binaric, "QUERY. Location?"

The useless priest beeped out an answer, and Zephyrion was off, pausing only to grab a few things before running out of the room. As he left, he instructed his servitors to kick the other tech priest out.

---xxxxxx---

Whistling, I snuck back into The Hive, going directly to the fifth level, which had become my exclusive territory. 

It had been almost three months since the New Year, and in between school—which I was excelling at, thank you very much—I snuck away down here quite often.

I had increased my Electronics Repair by six whole levels and got another skill called Mechanical Repair from fixing some door mechanisms while searching for things to fix or steal—err, borrow. It functioned exactly the same way as Electronics Repair did, except it covered purely physical mechanisms.

I hadn't let my other training stop either, getting ten entire levels in Athletics and almost that in Running and Fatigue Resistance. Running was high enough now that I ran twice as fast, and the combined effect of my endurance from both skills meant it took me a ridiculously long time to get tired. It was kind of getting difficult to level these skills without getting noticed, though.

I had to actually exert myself doing whatever the skill covered for it to have a chance of going up, and I was already faster than some adults. I was considering cleaning the entire fifth-level main corridor and using it for sprints back and forth, but that was a lot of effort.

Prayer seemed to be a difficult skill to level, as I had been trying it continuously and only got six more levels in it. Most times, my prayers were not answered, but sometimes they were now. I tried to keep the prayer for Warp Resistance on myself continuously, but if the prayer didn't work, well, I didn't push it. The Emperor was a busy deity, after all, and I was just one girl down here.

My looting of this floor was getting some benefits, though. I found a lot more tools and several dozen small cleaning robots, and I have been using some parts from the totally broken ones to repair the only slightly broken ones.

I sat one of those robots on my work table and nodded, grabbing the set of tools that I would need to open its fasteners. I'd try to pray this time, too. I didn't know if it took one special prayer or if I got credit for each one even if they didn't work to increase the skill, but if it was the latter, then there was no reason not to do it often. Certainly, the sisters at the school were enthused with my new piousness.

I'm not sure if my asking for stuff and sometimes getting it is actually piety, but they sure thought it was! I coughed into my hand and said, "May the God-Emperor forgive the crudeness of my repairs and may my hands be sure and mind quick."

Hmm... nothing, this time. I shrugged and opened the robot up. I already knew what was wrong with this one. It was pretty easy to identify the broken components using Observe. I pulled out the [Broken Motor] and quickly unwound the [Copper Wire], found the break, fixed it and rewound it into the motor, cleaning all of the mechanisms at the same time.

[ELECTRONICS REPAIR has gone up a level.]

Nice! I glanced at the skill, seeing that I had over a 122% bonus to the speed and efficiency of repairs now. It was harder to quantify how much "better" I got at repairing in general because the skill description didn't say that, but it was a lot. I had gotten two dumps of electrical and electronics knowledge at levels five and ten, and that was allowing me to snowball now, fixing more and more things.

I think it might be time to finally try to fix the [Stunner carbine] that I had found here so long ago. The corrosion on the electrical contacts would necessitate me carefully cleaning it, which I already had. The damage to the waveguide was more serious and was the reason why I had been holding back.

However, after digesting the information I got at level ten, I decided I could make the repair. I was just letting my gains digest by waiting for another level before making an attempt. I said with a grin, "Finally, I think my Electronics Repair is high enough to finally fix you."

Pulling out the stunner carbine, I sat it on the table and barely got the case open and the waveguide assembly out of the gun before the door behind me opened up. I gaped in surprise, turning around to see the machine man in red robes that I remembered from the dinner so long ago.

"Eversly child! Cease disassembling that archeotech immediately!" he said in a slightly mechanical-sounding voice.

"...Genetor Neurosage... sir?" I asked, aghast. Poop, was I in serious trouble here? I didn't even know what an archeotech was. My levels in Language: High Gothic had increased, as well as my Memorisation. These skills were synergistic, and this seemed to be a compound word of "archeo" and "tech." The latter was obvious, and archeo seemed to mean "old", if I wasn't mistaken. Old tech? Oh. Yes.

Plus, it was kind of obvious. I was only disassembling one thing right now.

The red-robed priest nodded and walked closer. However, he paused, and one of his metal tentacle-things reached up onto the ceiling and grabbed something off the roof. Or seemed to, I didn't quite see what was inside the grippy bits of his metal tentacle.

Frowning, I quickly used Observe, just in case.

[Surveillance caster, a small device equipped with a stealth field and designed for temporary placement. This device streams audio-visual data using radio frequencies in the 93Ghz range; as such, this device has a very short range indoors.]

[Skill Detection gained at LV1.]

** Detection (LV1): The ability to detect hidden, stealthed, camouflaged or otherwise concealed objects or entities. You receive a bonus to the detection of hidden things based on 5+LV*(LV*0.20)% [5.2%].

I was being spied on! My face went pale. I hadn't done any witchery recently. In fact, I had been specifically trying very hard to avoid it. I had the urge to do it all the time, but I was attempting to train up my Self-Discipline skill and Willpower stats with some success.

It wasn't that I was against experimentation, but I wanted to give myself the best shot possible at not screwing something up. That time that I had floated in the air seemed really mild compared to what was written in the church about witches and psykers.

So, this surveillance thingy couldn't have been here for too long. Otherwise, I would have already been in the witch cells or dead.

The machine man pulled the mostly invisible surveillance device to his hand, fiddled with it and put it in a pocket in his robes. Nodding, he said, "There... now we won't be observed."

My mind screamed Stranger danger! So I stood up from my chair and backed up a little, giving him space so that he can look at my stunner carbine. I cough and ask, being very respectful, "Uhh... am I in trouble, Genetor, sir?"

He snorted, which sounded like one of the plasfilm printers in the church jamming. "That will depend very much on what you have done to this priceless piece of archeotech, and how you answer my questions."

"What is archeotech?" I asked. The word is a High Gothic one, and I already deduced its meaning, but I wanted to be more sure, so I translated it into Low Gothic, "The word seems to mean old technology. But why is it valuable? There are tons of pieces of old technology in this Hive. I think it is really sad to see it all sitting here rusting."

His head turned around one hundred and eighty degrees, like an owl, which almost caused me to yell, "Gross!" I was able to contain myself, and he said, "You are getting more interesting, Piper Eversly. Archeotech is lost technology. Lost technology is lost knowledge." 

His odd mechanical eyes bored into me with a religious zeal that made Sister Jorus seem like an atheist, and he continued, "The recovery of lost knowledge is revelation, Piper Eversly. The sacred task of recovering archeotech goes beyond mere acquisition; it is an act of worship, a sacred pilgrimage to unearth the forgotten blueprints of the Machine God's divine plan. Each fragment, each recovered artefact, is a revelation—an opportunity to unravel the secrets of forgotten mechanisms and ancient innovations."

I gulped and said, "I'm glad I waited until I was pretty sure I could fix it then. I wouldn't want to break it."

"I would have killed you," he said simply, which caused me to giggle a little bit in fright. Then he motioned and said, "Come here. Show me what you intended to do to fix this machine."

I didn't see that as a request, so I obeyed him. I showed him the corrosion on the power management system, as well as the damage to the waveguide, which was the biggest issue. I told him my plans to fix that but admitted that I was just going to write off the power cell itself.

"Hmm... barely adequate, but with the tools you have available to you... not bad. You have to make a choice now, Piper Eversly," he said. 

I tried my best to look confused, which wasn't hard. He made that mechanical snort sound again and said, "For those not initiated into the mysteries of the Machine Cult, attempting maintenance and repairs on sacred technology is akin to a blind soul stumbling through the sacred liturgy without understanding its profound verses—like a parrot aping the sound of prayer to the Omnissiah without understanding the words. The intricate dance of gears, the divine resonance of circuits, and the subtle hum of sacred energies are not mere mechanical components but the hymns of the Omnissiah, a language comprehensible only to those who have undergone the sacred rites of induction..." He trailed off and then added as an afterthought, "...or so most of the Mechanicus believe."

He stared at me and said, "There are more places in the galaxy than not where you would be turned into a servitor for this affront." 

One of his metal tentacles motioned at all of the repaired items I had collected, "However, I... don't care. More, I think it is good. But true enlightenment is rare. If you want to continue down this path, then I'm willing to allow your induction into the cult as an Initiate. Your chances of being turned into a servitor are only seven decimal three per cent in this case."

I had seen a few of these... servitors. They were used in the church, not so much for labour but as simple data access systems. For example, one served the function of a card catalogue in the library. Honestly, they looked more evil and witch-like than anything I could presently do, and I had no desire to join their ranks.

I thought about this offer. I didn't know that much about the church of the Machine God, except that the God Emperor was supposed to be the physical embodiment of the Omnissiah himself, so it wasn't strictly speaking heresy. That was good because the God-Emperor and I were tight, with him answering my prayers and all, and I wouldn't want to offend him.

"So my option is to forever stop tinkering with machines or join the Machine Cult? And the God-Emperor is also the Machine God?" I asked, clarifyingly.

"Affirmative," he replied before pausing, "What do you want out of life, Piper Eversly?"

I'd considered this question before. There was only one reason I would do dangerous things like this and trying to learn more about my witchery powers. I nodded and said, "I want to know everything."

The grin on the Genetor's mostly mechanical face was terrifying. He said, "The Quest for Knowledge is the reason we exist. But in the future, I would avoid saying that without some qualifiers that you'll be taught. Small-minded fools might take it the wrong way."

---xxxxx---

I left The Hive after Genetor Neurosage did. He took away my [Stunner carbine] after reassembling it, which I wasn't surprised about. What surprised me was he gave me a Laspistol in its place. It was much smaller than my dad's Laspistol and looked a lot fancier.

According to my Observe, it was a [Compact Laspistol, Takara Pattern, a superior quality Laspistol suitable for concealed uses.]

It barely weighed two pounds and fit in my pocket. I was pretty sure I wasn't supposed to have it, actually, but I didn't mention that to the Genetor, nor did I really think he cared.

I had to tell Mom and Dad that I was joining the "Mechanicus" as an Initiate. It wasn't necessarily an irrevocable decision, as I could leave or even be kicked out without any real consequences until I was considered ready and offered real membership. To compare my status to what I understood, I would be like a lay sister, one who helped out at the Church but didn't take official vows to the Ecclesiarchy until then.

I wouldn't be able to get any mechanical tentacles of my own until then. It was kind of a shame, as I wanted to freak out my sister Alicia with one. Flip her skirts, perhaps.

About halfway home, there was a flash in my peripheral vision and a large boom. I blinked in shock, seeing a large fire coming from the east, in the direction of the Duke's keep and main governmental buildings.

I started running back home. Explosives were highly controlled on Orkney, but that was definitely some kind of bomb. I had to get back home, as my parents would be worried about me. I bet Dad was going to be busy, now.

As I turned onto my street, I heard about a half dozen reports. Obvious gunshots, and not the more distinctive crack of a Lasgun burning the air.

I increased my steps and saw eight men standing in front of my house, and I fired off a couple of Observe's on them and pulled out my brand new Laspistol as they appeared to be reloading their simple muzzleloading rifles. That was suspicious, because Lasguns were issued to all the Duke's men here.

[Jacob Murray, cultist of The Changer of Ways, he is quickly reloading his rifle so that he may finish off your parents.]

[Sammy Byrne, cultist of The Changer of Ways, mutant, psyker, he is experiencing a premonition of extreme danger.]

** [OBSERVE has gone up a level.]

I wanted to scream in rage, but it was better to surprise them. I had about fifty shots with this Laspistol, the same as a regular version. I continued running in their direction, raising my pistol and firing on the go. 

My first volley of four rapid-fire shots on the move resulted in only one hit, but it was a headshot on the witch. If he wasn't so consumed by his witchery, he might have been able to use his own fucking eyes to see the danger coming. 

How stupid. I quietly prayed that I would never become like him, either a cultist or stupid.

[Temporary effect 'Emperor's Blessing of Protection Against The Empyrean' gained.]

Well, thanks, God-Emperor Omnissiah Machine God, sir! That will be very helpful, especially if there are more witches around. Your servant appreciates your protection!

This had to be a planned attack. I wasn't even an adult, and it was obvious. That explosion had to be somewhere important, followed immediately after by a decapitation attack on the leaders of the Planetary Defence Forces?

I hoped my family was okay. I was keeping it together based on the Observe telling me that the first guy was planning on "finishing off" my parents.

I didn't run up all the way to the group of men, who were turning to notice me. Unfortunately, Lasguns weren't very suited for stealth takedowns. They were kind of loud, and visible when fired.

Several men continued trying to reload, while three of them rushed me with swords. Fuck, I left my sword home today! Not that I thought my odds of facing off against an actual adult male armsman.

I carefully aimed at the men reloading and began firing. I got three hits, with the last one dropping his gun and running for it by the time the first guy with a sword arrived close enough to use it on me. If I could turn around, I was sure I could outrun them but that didn't seem like a good idea.

Instead, I took a gamble and threw out my left hand and tried to push him away with my mind. It worked! He didn't go flying away, but it was like he was shoved hard by a really strong man and he went stumbling into one of his compatriots.

** [TELEKINESIS has gone up a level.]

** [TELEKINESIS has gone up a level.]

** [TELEKINESIS has gone up a level.]

** [WARP RESISTANCE has gone up a level.]

I was shocked by the three levels, but I supposed it was the first time I had really tried hard to use that ability consciously, and with full effort behind it. Instead of shooting the man I had pushed, I shot the guy who moved around the tangled two men. I shot him in the head, which was incredibly disgusting up close and made me want to vomit.

I think I would die if I did, so instead I turned around and started running with the last two guns chasing me. 

** [WILLPOWER has gone up a level.]

That was really stupid of them, because I just casually shot them one at a time as they chased after me. I was really fast!

After they were all dead, I flat-out sprinted back to my house. On the porch, I found my dad unconscious and bleeding, my mother sobbing and missing her left arm from the elbow down. She was sobbing over my big brother Willy, who was... dead. Absolutely dead. Those guns had huge bores for rifles, and they'd scored a headshot on the first volley. 

I blinked past tears and looked around for anyone else. About this time, my other big brother, Pete, jumped over the fence from the neighbour's house and came running. He skidded to a halt when he saw everything, saying, "Dad... Willy..."

I could hear the despair in his voice and shook myself before running over to my mom. She wasn't an idiot. She had tried to attempt to make herself a tourniquet, but I didn't think she tightened it enough. I pulled it tighter, getting a complaint out of her before I looked at Dad.

He wasn't dead, but he needed real medical attention rapidly. Pete followed me and, for some reason, asked me, "What should we do?"

Dad had taught all of us, so I just repeated what he'd told us so many times in times of crisis, "Take stock. Establish numbers, of us and the enemy. Where's Alicia?"

I then pulled out Dad's Laspistol from his holster and tossed it to Pete. He was a really good shot and could use it more than my dad right now. Then, I had a moment of brilliance and stole Dad's handheld Vox unit as well. There might be several different groups that had medicae that could treat traumatic injuries like this, but there was one that would be really motivated to do so... dad's Regiment.

"Alicia is at her suitor's house. I was heading over there to chaperone, but she liked me to be a little bit late," he admitted.

I bet she did. Her boyfriend was, amusingly enough, one of Dad's subordinates. I had thought for sure that Alicia would gravitate to one of the noble sons in the capital, but she was smitten by this Captain, who was barely two years older than she was. Being there at the time he came to ask Dad permission to court her had been incredibly amusing.

She wasn't here, though; that was the important thing. And she was likely safe where she was. I nodded and put the vox up to my lips, pushing the button and saying, "Hello? This is Piper Eversly, Colonel Eversly's daughter. There has been an attack by cultists, and the Colonel and his wife need immediate medicae attention."

"Who is this—" the voice interrupted me, probably because I didn't know the proper procedures for talking on a vox, but quieted almost immediately. Then he said, "What's your location, Miss Piper? Are there enemies?"

"We're at our house. There were eight cultists; seven are dead, and one ran off to the east. I dinnae know where the last one is," I said into the machine.

"Two squads are en route. Each squad has a medicae and will take your parents back to the Regimental headquarters for treatment. You need to get inside your house and lock the door. Everything is going crazy, and there are attacks across the city. We repelled one here, too. There are reports that some attackers made it into the first Regiment's armoury, so don't trust anyone just because they're in uniform and have a lasgun, girl," the man on the vox said, surprisingly verbosely. Finally, he said, "Don't talk on this frequency again unless it's another emergency."

Two vehicles arrived fairly rapidly, and people jumped out. They took Willy, too, even though it was obvious he was beyond saving. From the glances of the medicae, I think it was just so I wouldn't have to step over him going inside our house. They seemed very optimistic about dad, apparently he was unconscious from hitting his head after being shot and not from blood loss or shock.

Very rapidly, me and I were alone. We both looked at each other confusedly until he asked, "What are we supposed to do now?" He was staring at the spot where Willy had fallen.

I shrugged, "Do you have an actual commission in the guard yet?"

He shook his head, so I said, "Then you don't have anything you need to do. We should go get Alicia. Her boyfriend is going to be busy, especially with Dad out of action." 

I glanced at the bloodstains and said quieter, "Maybe we should stay at his house with her. I don't want her to see this, and I don't see a way to clean it up before she comes without the two of us splitting up, and I ... just can't do that right now."

Something seemed to snap Peter out of the funk he was in, and he nodded, "You're right. Let's go. I'll take the lead. Let's go."

I felt much more relieved. That was much more like him. He was always the one to take charge and lead between him and Willy.

I wasn't sure why I was more resistant to trauma than my big brother. 

I didn't have a skill for it.

** Name: Piper Eversly

** Title: Noble Daughter

** Strength: 8

** Dexterity: 8

** Vitality: 8

** Intelligence: 11

** Willpower: 13

** Psi Capability: 29 (Zeta)

** Unspent Points: 3

** Skills: Gamer's Body (MAX), Gamer's Mind (MAX), Reading (40), Pain Tolerance (34), Athletics (33), Running (26), Fatigue Resistance (25), Cooking (23), Hiding (16), Housework (15), Language: High Gothic (14), Observe (14), Dissembling (13), Memorisation (12), Sword Mastery (11), Electronics Repair (11), Self-Discipline (10), Marksmanship - Light (10), Acting (9), Calculation (7), Prayer (7), Embroidery (6), Sewing (6), Marksmanship - Ballistic (5), Teaching (5), Horse Riding (5), Jury-Rigging (5), Telekinesis (5), Etiquette (4), Lying (4), Warp Resistance (4), Archery (3), Mechanical Repair (2), Eavesdropping (1), and Detection (1)