The first time I came back from the dead was a real shock, even if I knew it was a possibility.

The second time leaves me terribly confused.

Didn’t I get shot in the head?

I sit up and look about. I’m lying on a gurney under an automated medicae. Bright lights shine on my face, but do not blind me.

++Welcome back, operator.++

“Hello E-SIM. Why am I alive?”

++You never died, Aldrich. I did not think the eldar needed to know that though, nor could you be warned less they strip the knowledge from your untrained mind.++

“Good call, E-SIM, and thank you. Let me rephrase that. How did I survive having my brain liquified by exotic eldar weaponry?”

++Your organic processor is there to provide redundancy, much like the distributed data nodes and nanomachines that are part of E-SIM, and therefore you.++

“I’m a digital consciousness? What about my soul?”

++You are both digital and biological, both systems are interchangeable and run concurrently and in sync. As for your soul, it is protected by artificial phoenix stones, such as the ones at the bottom of your skull and spine. Even if all consciousness networks are destroyed and you must be repaired from back up, you will eventually revive, though excessive damage can still kill you.++

I note E-SIM is blunting my panic.

“Wow, that is literally mind blowing. Also, artificial phoenix stones? That in itself is another whole heap of trouble if Eldar find I have those, it’s good that they think I’m dead. I bet they were trying to follow some harebrained prophecy. Oh, and don’t get hit by melta weapons or necron gauss cannons, got it.”

++Psyker weaponry and spells can also kill you without requiring total disintegration, similar to how an EMP would fry a machine.++

“Ah. I have a lot of weaknesses.”

++You are flesh.++

“For now. Do we still have the backup of my lanyard?”

++Yes. Aruna also possesses several copies it has encoded and hidden around the ship. Only you can access them without the data wiping.++

“Excellent. You really thought of everything.”

++It is my purpose.++

“Still, thank you for saving me once again.”

++You are welcome, Aldrich.++

“Anything else I need to know right now?”

++We have dropped from the warp and escaped pursuit. The orks and cultists did not risk the emergency warp exit.++

“That is both excellent and ominous.”

++Additionally, all intruders have been killed. Aruna was able to finish off the orks messing with the engines.++

I clap my hands, once, “Glory be to the machine spirit.”

Aruna pops into existence on my chest, “And don’t you forget it, Magos.”

“I won’t!”

“Good,” Aruna struts up my chest and bats my nose. Amazingly, I can actually feel its touch: dry and a little rough.

++Sensory feedback confirmed,++ drones E-SIM. ++Operator is now fully functional.++

“Delightful.” I mutter. “How’s the Distant Sun, Aruna?”

“Damaged but functional. Void shields are still down. Seven percent of the ship is open to the void. One engine is disabled. Minor damage to most systems. Back ups are functional. The lance turret is slagged from repeated rapid fire.”

“That sounds really bad.”

“It’s not great,” says Aruna. “But the mechanicus follows a pattern of twelve in their redundancy systems. Depending on what is damaged, the Distant Sun, like most Imperial ships, can lose up to sixty percent of its hull and systems before it is rendered non-functional.”

“Holy shit, that’s a lot of damage.”

“And yet, ships still die.”

“What’s the rule of twelve?”

“The mechanicus redundancy doctrine or rule of twelve, was distilled from ‘colony redundancy design principles’ found within the partial STC that the Jovian Class engine is based on.

“There are always two prime systems of everything. For example, in a power plant, there will always be two reactors. Within each prime system, there will be four subsystems, like four reactor chambers. Each subsystem can perform half of the specification of the full output required for the prime system. Each component of these four subsystems are built in triplicate, two of which are required for full performance.”

“Ah, everything is a multiple of twelve and built so maintenance can be carried out without turning anything off, or still function after catastrophic damage.”

“Yes, but that is not all. The prime reason for such redundancy is anti-corruption measures, rather than engineering failures. For example, a single neutrino messing up data in a poorly shielded cogitator could send a ship wildly off course. Having four subsystems means as long as three systems agree, accuracy is high enough to make an informed decision.

“Machines can also be corrupted by scrapcode, which rewrites their loyalty and functions, or they can be possessed by demons. The mechanicus redundancy doctrine helps mitigate this, or at least survive long enough to shut down and send out an alert.”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“I really, really hope everything was built to specification.”

“Well, when everything goes horribly wrong, you’ll find out, Magos.”

“I think I’d rather inspect everything. Where are we now, Aruna?”

“You are in the Koronus Expanse, at the coreward edge of the Rifts of Hecaton, a large ongoing warpstorm.”

My face is blank.

“North north west on a galactic map.”

“Right, is that good?”

“You are far beyond Imperial territory, though you are on the side of the Rifts of Hecaton where you can still voyage to Imperial territory, not the side where you would be stranded at the edge of the galaxy with no way through.”

“Wonderful! Where must we travel to return to Belacane?”

“The Distant Sun must travel coreward, crossing the entire Koronus Expanse, one of the most dangerous and unexplored areas of known space. Next, it must traverse The Maw, a narrow passage between two warp storms, and enter the Calixis Sector, where the vessel will enter imperial territory. Last, it must continue coreward across most of the Calixis Sector to the Markeyan Marches sub-sector where Belacane lies.”

“That is a big and dangerous journey. We will need to repair the ship before we attempt it, but there is no way I can do it by myself. We need an army of servitors, materials, and I need some upgrades. Is there a comet, or asteroid nearby?”

“On that front, there is some good news, Magos. There is a rogue planet two lightyears distant from our current position.”

“What is a rogue planet?”

“A planet dislodged from its parent star. Cold, dead worlds, and if they had an atmosphere, they’re big rocks covered in hundreds metres of frozen gases, which is exactly what this one is.”

“Thank you, Aruna. We should head for it.”

“Following your earlier disengagement orders, Distant Sun is already underway to the rogue planet. We are currently drifting towards it, which is all Aruna is allowed to do anyway. Aruna recommends that to minimise maintenance and fuel, the Distant Sun travels at one gravity. At that speed, the Distant Sun will be in orbit around the rogue planet in two point six terran years.”

“Why don’t we do a short warp jump?”

“Without a navigator, or even specialised tech-priests to double check the numbers, there is a significant possibility the Distant Sun would not end up where you want it to. Not only that, the hull is breached. The hull integrated gellar field, or warpsbane hull, is weakened and the secondary Belacane Pattern 90.r gellar field is non-functional. While a risky jump could save journey time, without a crew, you would be floating in orbit cloning servitors before you could begin repairs anyway.”

“I didn’t consider the hull breach. My apologies, I’m still off balance after being shot. Excellent points, Aruna. We’ll do it your way.”

“Aruna confirms the course of action, once the Magos cares to pilot the Distant Sun.”

“Ah yes, if you repeat it enough times, it might just sink in. I’m going to move Sergeant Odhran’s body to the chapel. He would appreciate the gesture, I’m sure, and I’d like to pay my respects to the man who saved my life. Then I’m going to rest in the captain’s quarters and do absolutely nothing for a day to celebrate our survival.” I rub my hands, “After that? Well, I think I’ll shoot a montage.”

“Very well, Magos. Aruna will send two servitors to assist you.”

Aruna disappears from my chest and I get up. Dizziness threatens to plonk me back on my arse, but it passes before I fall.

“Man, what a day.”

++You’ve been unconscious for two weeks, Aldrich.++

“Ah.”

It takes a couple of hours to tidy up Odhran. After rummaging around in the chapel’s supplies, I find some incense and a few candles and surround his body with my meagre offerings. His body lies on a gurney before the main altar, a slab marble and plasteel covered in mechanicus reliefs and a gold and white cloth.

The cold atmosphere of the ship means corpses never rot, and I can’t smell the incense either as my repaired helmet keeps everything out.

I sit in the chapel for an hour and let my thoughts rest. Eventually, I stand and approach the altar.

With my hand on Odhran’s shoulder, I say, “Thank you, Sergeant Odharan. May the Emperor watch over you.”

For a moment, I feel someone watching me and I see the tiniest flash of gold over Odhran’s body. A final breath passes through the chapel and over my skin despite the impossibility of feeling anything under my mesh suit. Then the phenomena are gone and I feel like I imagined the whole thing.

Unsure what to think, I go to bed.

The next day, after sleeping in a tricked out workshop and lab that passes for a mechanicus bedroom, after laying in our new course, I walk back and forth along the Distant Sun, traversing each of the five main decks, letting my plans circulate.

The warp tap is up and running and I shouldn’t have to worry about something hunting me down while it’s on for a long time. I finish my twenty kilometre walk at the observation dome.

Lying on a bench, looking out at the stars for the first time in millenia is magical. As the stress evaporates and my sorrows subside. A thought pops into my head.

I’m being an idiot.

I’ve spent the day assembling dozens of plans and schedules and I haven’t once thought about why the eldar hunted me for my lanyard. To me, it’s a data card that held the link to my past. The messages of my extended family, the stories from hundreds of other experimental subjects and millions of video clips from a myriad of cultures dead and dusted.

Blowing my brains out because I had the audacity to wallow in my past is totally something I can see those petty space elves getting all hot and bothered about, but they wouldn’t spend Emperor knows how long hibernating in the warp, the one place you’d never normally see an eldar because of their massive, legitimate fear of the hell dimension, and their fancy waygates that mean they rarely have to enter the warp to travel to other planets.

What they wanted, I suspect, was to prevent anyone from getting hold of the STC that was on it, and killing anyone who might have read it. If they were willing to go that far? ‘Cargo Container’ is probably not the disappointment I thought it was.

Glee bubbles up inside me. My body tenses and I unfold the files in my mind. Millions of entries rush by in a list so vast my thoughts grind to a halt. A video of my last relative begins to play.

The woman sits in a lab coat atop a blue container hundred metres long and twenty metres wide and high. She pats the container, the ring on her hand giving her smack a ting alongside a thunderous boom. Just how strong was she to make such a sound?

A small smirk graces her lips, “Impressive, isn’t it.”

That was not a question.

“The STC system is curated and modified by an AI, but even a hyper intelligent digital existence still needs data to work with, and the more the better. So that’s what we created. The cargo container STC doesn’t just tell you how to go from bashing two rocks to manufacturing a hollow chunk of plasteel. It tells you why.

“Our team didn’t stop there either. What good is a big old box if you can’t move it? What do you do when you get there? The STC program was designed for colonists, so we stuck all sorts of things in our cargo containers: habs, power plants, water purifiers, if you can think of it, we did too.

“Who’d have thought all the secrets to the universe were inside the box?”

She waves and the video stops.

“Holy shit, it’s the Imperial Grail!”

++A box of unlimited dakka, Aldrich?++

“No, it’s competent logistics!”

With a massive grin on my face I start going through the entries and redoing all my plans.

Nothing can stop me now.