NOVEL NEXT B2 Chapter 13
Simo sat in a battered chair in the Zephuros's sickbay, beneath a massive Trey, surrounded by strange sounds and smells.
Since his son had gone off to Aula Structurae about six years ago, he hadn't seen much of him, unable to afford tickets for Jon to travel back and forth from school during breaks.
And if truth be told, he hadn't spent all that much time with his son since he was about twelve and sent off to Cloisteranage as an aspirant.
Now, his own son was basically a stranger. But he and Veerta were fixing that, stitching back the years lost, or trying to.
He'd been enjoying their time on the ship together, catching up, learning who the man his little boy had become was.
Mari, his eldest daughter, was aboard too, her husband and children's voices a rare warmth in this ship's cold metal.
Simo had two other children. There was Pao, serving in the Imperial Army, and Esther, wed to a friend Pao brought home on leave years ago. Both were scattered across the stars, rarely able to visit.
Of course, Veerta gave birth four other times, but those kids were tithed to the Holy Empire. He often wondered how they were doing. He could've met one and not even known it. He sent up a prayer of thanks that he was born and raised naturally.
It usually fell to the Ecclesiastic to decide what Heretics were to be spared, and which executed. Or that's how it worked in the Imperial Army. He assumed the same would be true in his new crew if the ship's chaplain, Brother Salinja, wasn't dead.
In his absence, Saint Hidetada appointed Jon to perform this task. It took Simo by surprise to see how callous his son seemed, condemning those to death that most wouldn't, using the lack of the chaplain and inability to perform exorcisms as the reason.
He hoped his son was just being overly cautious, trying to impress his new boss with his cold calculations, proving he could be trusted with what fief he'd be tasked with administrating on Sulfuron 9.
This job could make or break his son's career, so Simo tried seeing things from that perspective.
He prayed this was the reason, and his son hadn't turned into a cold man, uncaring about the plight of those he saw as lower or lesser than him.
It almost seemed like he was embarrassed by his parents too, both being serfs now.
Veerta had told Jon she'd stay on Sulfuron 9 with him and Mari, and his scowl at the news still burned in Simo's mind.
Jon, shadowed by Harc for protection and to open doors, was currently investigating possible corrupt officials on Albion. Hidetada had his own list, and would compare the two.
Simo performed the sign of the trey, bowing his head. Since no one could hear him, he spoke aloud. "Blessed Mother, Divine Theosis, and King of Kings, please don't let my boy, Jon, be a callous and heartless man. Please help guide him to your Holy light. And please protect him on Sulfuron 9, and my wife and daughter too. Mari, I mean.
"But also Esther and Pao too, of course. And the grandkids. My whole family, not just the ones going to Sulfuron 9. Sorry I didn't say that right. Please forgive my stumbling words. I hope you know what I mean. And the surviving members of this crew too. And please accept those who died as glorious martyrs into your Kingdom.
"Thank you for listening. Amen."
Another "Amen" rumbled out, startling Simo. He looked up to find Angar peering at him from his sick bed. A shiver rippled down Simo's spine, as it always did meeting that brutal gaze.
"You're awake!" Simo said, rising with a grin, his chest flooding with relief. "Welcome back to the realm of the living, Sir."
Angar's eyes pierced deeper into Simo's soul, unyielding. "So, I did die?" he asked.
"Aye, Sir," Simo replied. "As did Brother Salinja, Majed, Gux, and Kong, all glorious martyrs in our blessed Holy War, missed terribly by this crew. But, like you, Kong's been vivified, up and about for a couple days now."
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Simo thought about mentioning how rare vivification was. He'd never heard of someone getting it done, not even big officers. It wasn't just the cost, which he was sure was ridiculous and completely unaffordable.
Vivification required a Hierarch, and most of those were assigned to a sect within the Ordo Sanctus Puritas. A lot of those sects were completely nuts.
Angar performed the sign of the trey, sending up a silent blessing, Simo assumed for the souls of the deceased.
As the Knight looked at him, Simo shifted in his chair, the creak of the battered metal echoing in the sickbay's hums and strange noises. That piercing gaze hadn't softened, and Simo felt a familiar unease in his soul, like he was being weighed and measured.
"We won? The Fallen that killed me are dead?" asked Angar.
"Uh," Simo began, rubbing his hands together, "how it all shook out after…well, after you went down. I don't know all the details, but I'll tell you what I know. After we were attacked, we took the shuttle back to the Zephuros, and Stek headed back down. Out of the survivors, I was the only one not banged up bad enough to need emergency care, and Doc was too injured to help anyone."
Angar's eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing, his silence urging Simo to continue.
"The Fallen that did you in," Simo went on, "they somehow made it back to their own ship. And let me tell you, that thing was no joke. A heavy-class juggernaut with a full squadron of fighters.
"When I saw it, then all the fighters fly out to face our one, I swear, my heart stopped. I thought for sure the Zephuros was done for, and my family with it, seeing how many posts were unmanned and how outgunned we were."
He shook his head, as the memory was still sharp. "I was bracing for the end, Sir, in the first real ship combat I've witnessed too."
Angar's stillness was unnerving, but Simo pressed forward. "Somehow, and don't ask me how, the Zephuros blew that juggernaut to pieces, praise be the Three. But those two Fallen? One survived. Escaped somehow. Or so I was told. We got one though!"
A grunt escaped Angar. Simo took it as a prompt to keep going.
"Right after the battle, things moved fast," he said, leaning forward. "The Zephuros blazed in-atmosphere in full burn to pick up the shuttle. Saint Thryna was on it, along with Harc and your body, Sir. Then we headed to the closest sect for the vivification. Didn't waste a second.
"Brothers of the Unyielding Inevitable it was," Simo explained. "Some kind of weird hermit death cult out in Albion's deserted mountains. Harc and Thryna didn't mess about. They told those cultists to grab whatever they needed for vivification and get to the Zephuros' sickbay immediately."
Simo paused. He liked this part and thought it was wild. "They had four Hierarchs, which is more than I figured a cult out in the middle of nowhere on a trash planet would have. Instead of grabbing what's needed and moving, they tried negotiating. Then there were three Hierarchs.
"Another kicked up a fuss about his mate getting done it, so it went down to two. Those two didn't muck about. They moved with a purpose, grabbing the men and resources needed."
Angar grunted again.
"Your vivification, Sir, wasn't going so good," Simo said. "Didn't look like it'd take. I figure it was the fear of Saint Thryna that lit a fire under those brothers. They went the extra mile, pulled out all the stops, and it finally took. After that, you were tossed right in the Vitaelux Apexium. And now you're awake, thank the blessed Mother."
Simo sat back, exhaling. "For the rest of the dead, Kong's body was the last killed and the least banged up, so went next, and it worked, praise the Three. It failed to take on Majed, no matter how hard those brothers worked at it. The corpses of Gux and Brother Salinja were far too torn up to even bother wasting resources on an attempt."
Simo was really impressed by Kong. It'd be rude to ask the man, but by his size, he clearly survived the Grim Ordeals, either washing out at the Divine Crucible, or refusing Anointment. Whatever happened, or whatever his history, the guy fought like a real beast.
Simo suspected he had a rare and special type of Augmentifer Class. He didn't know a ton about them, but he knew they could make good cyberware and bioware, and installing what they made on themselves improved it somehow, their cybernetic limbs even reflecting higher Attributes and Stats in their Annals.
"That's the long and short of it, Sir," added Simo. "They tested Kong when he got up, making sure he wasn't made a dunce. I'm figuring they'll test you too, but you seem fine to me.
"They've kept the prisoners needing executing alive. I can't be sure, but 'm figuring that's for you, so you can get some XP out of them. You're still the lowest level in this crew, by a large margin at that. Even my Veerta's at the second Tier's peak."
Angar's eyes held Simo's for a long moment, unblinking, like he was searching for something.
Simo had hoped the Infernus Oculus implant would've made his old master's stare less frightening, but nope. That fake-eye sent chills down his spine, the same as the other, both like unholy pits to Hell.
Finally, Angar spoke, his voice lower than usual. "This was all my fault. We knew this mission was a trap. I still walked right into it."
Simo sighed. "And the Peregrines found the station and provided the intel on the Void Reaper and cultist leaders. It's our fault and Saint Hidetada's as much as your own. This trash planet is filled with rot, and we'll soon wreck shop, crack some skulls in, and get some Holy vengeance for our fallen."
Angar gave a single, curt nod, and asked, "How'd your battle go?"
"Fine, Sir. We slaughtered a ton of them unholy filth. Let me go get Doc to check you out."
As Simo rose, he saw Angar's leonine hands gripping the cot's edge, his brows furrowed, and an unsettling glint in his eyes, staring off into the distance in a more brutal and frightening way than usual.
Unease twisted in Simo's gut.