Denied access to observe Syrine’s training, Maylin was pouting slightly as she wandered alone in the monastery.
The preacher could not help but feel that either the Sororitas had something against her, or they were hiding something with all their lame excuses. Still, Maylin was extremely grateful for this assignment, thus far it had been nothing but a magnificent blessing.
Just yesterday she was in the front row seat as Syrine commanded the battle sisters to confront the heretic forces at the scholastica, and it was beyond glorious. That scene of the Holy Daughter steadily dropping one order after another to secure a flawless victory was more breathtaking than she could ever have imagined. To further amplify her shock, Maylin later learned that it was the first time Syrine had ever directly taken command of a battlefield.
While still being dazzled by what she saw, later on the same day, during the wake session for the sisters fallen in their campaign, Maylin witnessed the Holy Daughter summoning angelic birds. She had heard about it happening once before at the monastery gate, but never imagined witnessing it with her own eyes so soon.
Seeing the God-Emperor’s miracles manifested one after another was an extremely rare privilege in itself, the position also propelled Maylin to a meteoric rise within the Ecclesiastical ranks. The young preacher suddenly found herself frequently interacting with many of the Church’s influential figures, higher-ups who had once seemed distant and untouchable were now directly contacting her.
It wasn’t far from saying that Maylin was living the dream, more than once the preacher found herself staring into the mirror and wondering if she deserved all this. Everything happened so fast, the whiplash of changed fortune left her feeling stunned.
Determined to make her time productive, Maylin thought for a while before deciding to interview some of the sisters about their experience with the Holy Daughter.
* * *
I blazed through training with all the guns available from the Sororitas armoury.
The comprehensive list includes an auto pistol, a bolter, a bolt pistol, a storm bolter, a condemnor boltgun, a plasma pistol, a meltagun, various combi-bolter variants, a hand flamer, a flamer and a relic inferno pistol. Of these the plasma pistol made the deepest impression as it literally fired miniature suns, it felt extra dangerous and even Alicya was looking more apprehensive when I practised a few shots with it. Still, my focus was on the operating and reloading procedure of the weapons as the shooting part was a no-brainer for me.
There were a few items which I was not encouraged to handle, namely the bigger versions of the famous Sororitas’ holy trinity of weaponry: the heavy bolter, heavy flamer and multi-melta. Something to do with the tradition and the long held beliefs that it was beneath a commanding figure to operate heavy weapons.
After some persistence I was allowed to fire a single salvo from a heavy bolter. An ammo box was used since I was without a power armour to use the belt fed backpack. The bigger cousin of the bolter was much heavier and a rush to handle. It barked louder, kicked like a wild stallion, but was still manageable for me.
From my brief experience with the heavy bolter, I saw the reasons why it might be counter productive for a field commander to wield heavy weapons; these massive guns required a lot more attention to properly operate and its user could easily develop tunnel vision, an issue that could lead to dire circumstances on a dynamic battlefield.
Soon my ammunition was spent and the firing range was filled with splintered dummies, marking the end of my firearms crash course. It was time to move onto the next item on my to learn list: power armour.
After a short break while Welminah made a quick report of my progress, we proceeded to the primary armoury inside the monastery. The first thing I noticed about the place was the sheer frenzy of sounds. There was a constant clunking and clattering of material resonating throughout the whole space, a ceaseless hum of servomotors and hisses of pneumatic tools punctuating the air, all accompanied by the occasional sharp snap of power tools. The air was thick with the scent of machine oil, metal, ozone, mixed with the subtle tang of sweat.
Entering the place was like stepping into the heart of a mechanised hive, many things were moving and buzzing with chaotic but controlled purpose. The interior of the armoury was dimly lit with harsh lights that cast stark shadows from many weapon racks and armour stands.
It was a hive of activity with busy workbenches swarmed by working servitors, and every space was cluttered with parts, tools, and half-assembled gear. Holographic displays flicker with readouts and diagnostics, casting a bluish glow on the faces of the many tech-adepts in their activities.
At one of the walls rows of damaged Sororitas power armour stood at attention, their surfaces marred by the scars of battle, waiting to be repaired and maintained. Alicya moved swiftly, seemingly familiar with the place whereas Welminah fumbled along, like me her eyes were darting all over the place. Soon we reached the centre of this dizzying place where a typical looking tech-priest stood, the figure was hooded in crimson robe with a simple Omnissian axe in one hand.
As Alicya walked over to greet the figure, I activated my noospheric connection to look around. The tech-priest’s digital signature was active and displayed a name: Hattie Ortaal.
‘Enginseer Hattie.’ Alicya greeted casually.
‘Probationary palatine. I see you have esteemed guests with you.’ The tech-priest responded in a synthetic voice that was definitely female, the only indication of gender since none was given away by her appearance.
‘I would like you to meet Lady Syrine, the living saint candidate,’ Alicya said excitedly. ‘And have you met Sister Welminah before? She currently acts as Lady Syrine’s personal assistant.’
‘We have spoken a few times at the library,’ Hattie exchanged a quick nod with Welminah before turning her optics to me.
‘The fabled Holy Daughter, it is an honour. I am Enginseer Hattie Ortaal, overseer of this sanctified forge. May the Omnissiah bless thee.’ The enginseer said, forming the sign of cog with her hands while looking at me while her glowing optics.
I smiled and nodded in response. ‘Nice to meet you, Hattie.’
‘I apologise for the sudden request, but would it be possible for you to immediately prepare an operational power armour for Lady Syrine?’ Alicya asked, straight to the point.
‘At this time when we are most pressed with repair rites from all the damaged wargear of the returned expeditionary forces?’ Hattie gestured around us, hinting at the massive workload.
‘Lady Syrine’s request has priority.’ Alicya said confidently.
‘Very well, with me.’ Hattie nodded and started walking, prompting an ancient-looking servo-skull to fall in behind her like a loyal pet. We followed her into another space that was treated with some sound insulation, muffling the frenzied cacophony of the forge. There were more Sororitas power armour here, but unlike the ones outside these appeared to be in pristine condition.
‘I suppose we can start with a size S and tweak to optimise,’ Hattie said after throwing me a quick glance, quoting at my less than formidable stature. The tech-priest then walked to a particular row of power armour that was slightly smaller than the rest. She pointed to those and said to me, ‘please pick one and we can work from there.’
I looked at my options with complicated feelings. Back on Earth I had a hobby friend who openly declared it was his lifelong dream to put on a functioning power armour, to see and feel what it was like operating such a mythical piece of war gear. Back then his silly remark was backed by many in the hobby circle, like who could resist the notion of armouring up like a space marine?
And here I was, standing on the edge on realising that distant common dream but all my focus landed on an unfortunate detail on the power armours before me - those curvy breastplates tipped with an extra pair of decorative plating in the form of Sororitas fleur-de-lis symbol. I never gave it a second though seeing them on the sisters, in my mind they even looked kinda cool but the very idea of putting those on myself sent revulsion down my spine.
Oh Throne, why why why why…
Fortunately, some of the offered armours came without those embarrassing details. Going through the few acceptable options, I clung to the plainest-looking suit like a life raft in a rough sea and declared decisively, ‘I will take this.’
This is not up for debate.
While both girls did not comment, from their thoughts I knew they did wonder about why I went for the most unembellished piece. Just when we were about to proceed further, I sensed some unusual resonance, something was approaching fast. As I turned to face the direction, an instance later two servo-skulls flew into the area.
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Reacting to the unusual circumstances, Alicya swiftly placed herself between me and the drones, her bolt pistol drawn and ready. Welminah stiffened up, the scholar usually went unarmed inside the monastery so she just stuck closer to me.
One of the servo-skulls then approached Hattie and dropped a binary message.
‘Relax, Alicya. I recognise these,’ I said just as the magos himself walked in uninvited, prompting the palatine to move her aim to the tech-priest. Balpradus looked at the weapon pointing at him blankly and stopped his movement.
‘Why are you here?’ Alicya asked.
‘Sorry for the sudden intrusion, I was looking for Lady Syrine.’ Balpradus ignored the weapon pointing at him and bowed to me, ‘I was only made aware of your intention of retrofitting a set of power armour a moment ago. Since I received no response from hailing your servo-skull, I came here myself.’
Opps, I left it in my room. Solace is kinda like my too-often misplaced handphone at the moment.
‘What is this regarding?’ Alicya demanded, not relaxing her aim.
‘Palatine Alicya,’ Balpradus turned to her and replied with his cold, flat synthetic voice. ‘You should know as well as I do, everything concerning Lady Syrine is strictly confidential. Enginseer Hattie does not have enough security clearance for this operation.’
Alicya blinked and lowered her weapon. Seeing the battle sister had stood down, Balpradus canted to Hattie.
Balpradus replied as one of his servo-skulls canted a series of binary codes to Hattie, to which she eventually bowed her head.
After that all four of us moved back to my room with the set of power armour I selected, the suit carried over by a servitor from the armoury. First I was handed a bodyglove that came with the package to change into, it was a skin tight outfit that was covered with fibro-muscle. This was the under part of the power armour’s inner system that was rarely seen up close in the lore.
Upon closer inspection, the sheer sophistication of the bodyglove and the armour pieces left me in awe. The bodyglove was essentially an outfit of interwoven synthetic muscle fibres that was made from a composite of lightweight yet hyper-elastic material.
The material itself shimmered with a subdued dark metallic blue and on the surface of all the fibres was an intricate web of micro-weave patterns, mimicking the natural striations of muscle tissue. Running along the limbs and torso were delicate lines of circuitry, hinting at the bodyglove’s integration with a power armour system.
The armour pieces were mostly constructed from an advanced ceramite composite, famous for being almost impenetrable with small arms fire, the same type of material used on space marine power armour. Their interiors were lined with shock-absorbing paddings, providing further protection to its user. These plates also featured some ingenious interlocking system that was designed to provide maximum flexibility.
Even with my untrained eyes these things looked really expensive. I had a better understanding of the depth of technology and resources needed to construct these gear, and it became apparent why only the really powerful factions in the Imperium could employ power armoured troops.
After changing into the bodyglove, under the supervision of Balpradus I began putting on the armour with the help from Alicya and Welminah. This part of the process reminded me about cosplayers putting on their elaborate costumes, only in this case it was a real functioning piece of wargear.
Piece by piece the armour was affixed on to me and I noticed the expression of both girls brightening up. Alicya was excited to see me donning her Order’s colour, whereas Welminah was thinking I made the perfect image of a cute novitiate suiting up for the first time.
Soon the final piece, the power backpack, was put in its place and I felt the full weight of my armour. It was… unexpectedly manageable but my sensation for weight was so skewed from a normal person I had no idea how heavy it would be for a standard human.
There was a slight hum as power was turned on, and as the systems came online I immediately felt the weight pulling on me lessened as the armour started to support itself with the activated fibro-muscle network. Intrigued, I moved and flexed my arms, testing my movement.
‘My lady, try walking around. Please be careful,’ Alicya advised and I started moving as suggested. At first it felt strange, the activated fibre bundles acted like extra muscles that automatically mimicked my movement while providing momentum and aided strength.
The power armour and its space age materials felt amazing, although not reaching the “second-skin” level described in a lot of space marines stories, it was surprisingly comfortable despite having all the extra layers of stuff added onto me.
I got used to it and was moving naturally in no time. While doing so I caught a glimpse of Alicya’s mind as she briefly reminisced on her embarrassing incident of immediately tripping over while using power armour for the first time.
Balpradus who was silently observing all this time spoke up, ‘my lady, please try moving your arm as quickly as possible for a stress test.’
‘What do I need to do? Throw a punch?’ I asked.
‘That would do.’ Balpradus nodded.
I did as instructed, throwing out a punch and felt my movement strangely impeded. ‘Again.’ Balpradus instructed. I threw a harder punch, it was faster this time but still definitely slower than if I was unarmoured.
‘How did it feel?’
‘Restrained. It feels like… the armour was slowing me down.’ I answered honestly.
‘As I predicted, it could not keep up with you.’ Balpradus said with a contemplating gesture.
‘What is happening, magos?’ Asked Alicya.
‘The armour’s system is hardwired to human limitations, not meant for a user with my lady’s magnificent level of physiology. I can adjust the internal settings to an extent, it will be serviceable but not optimal.’ Balpradus said as he extended a mechadendrite, a thick mechanical wire extension that could move like a tentacle, and connected it to a hidden port on my armour.
The tech-priest then spent some time working on a data-slate before saying, ‘I have tweaked some settings and just set the encryption level for biometric readout of your armour to the highest level. In addition, I added extra tweaks to mask your twin heart beats.’
The tech-priest’s words stunned me and the girls for a second, that was definitely something we had overlooked. He then asked me to throw another punch. I did so and felt a huge difference, both sisters flinching as my armoured fist flew out with inhuman speed, the force amplified by the armoured mass.
‘It is not a hundred percent, but a massive improvement,’ I said, quite happy with the improvement.
‘I am afraid this is as far as it can go, to fully compensate you will need at the very least Astartes grade system,’ Balpradus said while nodding sagely to himself before continuing to explain, ‘do note from this point onwards this armour is no longer suitable for unaugmented human usage, to do so risks severe user injuries.’
‘Why is that?’ Welminah asked, her scholarly curiosity intrigued.
Balpradus turned to look at her before answering. ‘The motion feedback limiter had been set to minimum, effectively disabled. As a result, under extreme circumstances a standard human might experience muscle tear or even bone fracture with improper usage.’
As both girls turned pale on that horrifying notion, Balpradus turned to me and continued his lecture. ‘My lady, if possible please refrain from excessive usage, else the armour’s system might not hold. At any rate, I highly suggest having a custom set of master crafted power armour tailor made for your specifications.’
‘You know anyone capable of doing that?’ I asked while flexing my arms, still getting used to the sensation of being encased in a functioning power armour.
Balpradus bowed again. ‘I know a few individuals capable of such a feat. With your permission, I will gladly undertake this project and make sure the final result is thrice blessed by the Omnissiah, befitting your status.’
The tech-priest left after receiving my consent to custom build my armour. What followed was crash courses about basic operational procedures and equipment familiarisation. The first thing I needed to do was to get familiar with putting on the armour by myself.
Getting this part right was tedious but necessary, after a few trials I was able to go from just the bodyglove to fully armoured up unassisted under five minutes. There was still room for improvement on my speed but it would do for now. The trickiest part being putting on the power backpack by myself unaided, they usually used a custom stand for that.
With the fundamentals sorted, we proceeded to an obstacle training course. After Welminah helped me sort out my hair, tucking the ones on the back of my head into my bodyglove, I put on the Sabbat pattern helmet that came with the armour for the first time.
As the solid piece of headgear slid smoothly down my head and completed an environmental seal with a soft hiss, the system inside the helm came alive as a myriad of colourful indicator runes lit up. My breathing and the low humming of my power pack started to echo softly inside the sealed suit, the surrounding sounds became muffled until the audio feed was turned on.
I looked around and a targeting rune appeared. It moved around in my field of view, tracking my eye movement. I turned to Alicya, and immediately the targeter labelled her as a friendly and even recognised her rank, marking the sister as a palatine. The system interface was high tech yet gothic-looking, typical of the unique grim dark aesthetic.
Another crash course later, I familiarised myself with the helmet settings and usage on photo-visor and preysight settings, as well as how to use the built in comm-link like a normal user even though I could access it directly with my ability.
That sorted, we proceeded with the main event and I went through the hoops of going through the obstacle course in my armour. It felt like a movement tutorial of a first person shooter.
That said, having a primarch grade mind and body meant I was operating at an inhuman level of physical efficiency, and it showed. Whether it be running, overcoming walls, plank crossing, rope climbing or even the notorious monkey bar swing, I easily aced through all of them without trying much or breaking a sweat. According to Welminah I even broke several speed records along the way, but beating human records as a transhuman was nothing to be proud of.
After just half a day’s work, Alicya nodded with satisfaction at my performance and declared I was fully proficient with the basics of power armour operation. With that it was time to set my sight on to the next major challenge: jump pack usage.