Deus in Machina (a Warhammer 40K-setting inspired LitRPG)

Simo's gut churned as heavily armed and armored men drove him and Veerta to the spaceport. So far, they had only told him, "Saint Hidetada requests your presence."

With Angar leaving, he was unsure if Venerable Sister Kenson would keep him employed. With his future uncertain, he didn't need this.

Saints didn't request meetings with one-armed serfs. And why was his wife summoned too?

This had to be Sir Angar's doing. The boy had to have done something reckless enough to drag them into the crosshairs of some trouble.

He owed his master more than he could ever repay, he'd be loyal to the boy until the bitter end, but his gratitude halted with his family being placed in danger.

The men escorting him were so well equipped, he almost believed one must be Hidetada. He had no idea what the Saint looked like.

They occasionally displayed a scry-capture of the Pontifex Maximus during Sunday Mass, delivering papal encyclicals, or of a high-ranking imperial official giving an address, but, aside from that, he'd only recognize some of the most renowned Saints and grand marshals on sight.

He wasn't sure what Realm Hidetada was. So few ever reached the second Realm, that ascending further meant little to most normal people.

He was unsure about Crusaders, but he had heard less than 8% of Ecclesiastics and only 4% or so of the Laity achieved the second Realm. He had no idea how many of those reached the third, becoming Seraphs. He'd guess not many.

His lone hand brushed the holstered pistol at his hip. The Pyreclaw would've been nice to have, but he'd left it behind, as showing up with an auto-blaster to a Saint's summons felt disrespectful, like spitting on propriety.

Veerta, beside him, radiated a nervous thrill, with bright eyes despite the smog-choked dawn of Zanaya. "A Saint, Simo! Imagine what this could mean!" He hoped the excitement her womanly intuition predicted was in store for them was more accurate than his worry.

He truly prayed she was right, as he could see it being a prelude to a flaying, or even worse torture. He doubted the beloved and honorable Saint Hidetada would strike at servants just to get at a new Knight like Sir Angar, but no one could know the mind of the powerful, or the truth of things, not until all was said and done.

A hiss snapped him from his thoughts with the doors parting to reveal a shadowed ramp and a hulking silhouette beyond, which had to be the Zephuros.

From the outside, it looked to be a real junker.

But as they stepped into the entry bay, the truth could be sussed through the exterior deception. This was no junker, but a warrior cloaked in rags.

The escort abandoned them in the bay without a word or a goodbye. Veerta clutched his arm. Her excitement seemed dimmed, replaced with a little unease maybe.

Then came a heavy and deliberate clank of metal on metal. A figure emerged from the shadows. It was either a Mechanoid or a Machinilitis, a steel-born construct controlled by coded scripts or directly by its creator, one of the Ferrumvita Classes. But this one was very strange looking.

Its helm was a Crusader's, full-faced and stern. Its pauldrons, also from Crusader Armor, flared from its shoulders, battered and proud, while half a banged-up breastplate from the same suit clung to its torso.

Its limbs were skeletal, just steel twigs with taut hydraulics. Weapon systems bristled along its forearms and shoulders. A hulking engine clung to its back with vents hissing vapor, while booster rockets jutted out from the sides of its shins, and it had smaller, thin tripods instead of feet.

The right hand wore a spiked gauntlet with knuckles like a morning star, and the left gauntlet sprouted long, razor-sharp blades instead of fingers.

It moved in a way no Ferrumvita should, scripted or controlled, and its gaze locked onto Simo with an unnerving weight.

"Imperial meatgrinder minced you good, huh?" a metallic and dry voice rasped from the helm.

Simo's jaw tightened. He'd dealt with engineers jabbering through their steel dolls before. He wasn't in the mood.

Ignoring it, he looked around the bay.

Then the thing laughed with a hearty, shoulder-shaking bellow that rattled its frame. No controller wasted valuable code space on theatrics like shoulder shaking. Only a truly bad one would.

Good. He'd been right to stay silent.

"Can we help you?" Veerta's kind voice broke the tension.

It laughed again, louder, then turned and stalked off, with its feet clanking against the grating.

Simo exchanged a glance with his wife. Judging by the warm smile on her face, it looked like her optimism held, but his suspicions had deepened.

Minutes dragged by before a wiry man with a wide grin appeared. "God and Empire. I'm Laoch, ship medicus. Call me Doc."

His cheer felt forced, but Simo grunted introductions, and Veerta said hers with her usual warmth.

Doc beckoned them through a bulkhead into the ship's lower mid-deck. They passed an operator's station with its occupant hunched over controls, ignoring them.

Simo noted the empty drone docks, meaning they were out, and there were six drone slots, meaning there had to be another operator somewhere, as three drones were the individual limit.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Beyond the operator was a comcap compartment. Instead of the usual one or two stations, it was crammed with them.

Doc led them to twin side rooms, each barely a cell, containing just a desk with a console on it and a chair. "The captain wishes to speak," he said. "He can't meet in person, though."

"Is the captain Saint Hidetada?" Simo asked.

"The captain will let you know." Doc's smile didn't falter as he gestured them inside. Simo to one room, Veerta to the other. After stepping inside, the door sealed behind him with a hiss.

Simo sank into the chair, eyeing the console. Words flickered on the screen.

[Simo Agiad. Rank L2, Tironeus of the Liberi Humiles. Fifty-nine years old and only second rank in the serf Order? Have you no ambition, or is your mind as defective as all the other serfs?]

Heat flared in Simo's chest, a mix of disappointment warring with fury. If this was Hidetada, the Saint was a real prick. Never meet your heroes, he thought bitterly as his fist clenched. He reached to type a retort when the screen shifted.

[Just speak. Don't type.]

"Fine. Is this Saint Hidetada?"

[Is it?]

Blessed Mother! What a pompous ass, just like the rest of the bigwigs, thought Simon. "If you won't identify yourself, I can't give proper title, now, can I? I served over forty years as an infantryman in the Imperial Army. Rank E9, Praefectus Logis, in the Filii Belli. When I lost my arm, they discharged me and put me in this Lay Order. Does that sound lazy to you?"

[Does it to you, moronic serf?]

Rage surged, white-hot and blinding. He clamped it down, as his jaw ground. This was the game. The powerful flexing over the powerless. Even one wrong word could hurt or doom Veerta and the kids. His job was to protect and lead his family, to provide for them, not hurt them by losing control like some undisciplined boy.

"No," he growled, forcing himself to calm. Then, softer, he said, "I pray to the blessed Mother you're not speaking to my wife like this. She's a good, God-fearing woman. She's served our Holy Empire loyally all her life, raising four of our own children, and tithing the other newborns."

[What if I am talking to your stupid serf wife like this? The strong do what they can, while the weak suffer what they must. What would you do about it, monkey?]

Enough anger flared in Simo's chest that he almost lost it and started bashing things. With a titanic effort, he clamped down on it. After taking a few calming breaths, he said, "What I'd do is escort her off the ship, then come back and have words with you, Saint or not."

[Words? What words, you stupid serf?]

The dam broke. "Holy Theosis!" Simo roared, his chair crashing against the wall as he shot up. Seething, he growled out, "I'll smash this console to pieces, you honorless filth, is what I'll do! Let me get my wife off this ship and we'll settle this as men! I ain't done nothing to be disrespected like this, and I sure as Hell ain't letting anyone talk to my wife this way! Not without us having words!"

Simo stood there seething as the screen did nothing but blink an input prompt.

[Good. I crew warriors, not prideless and spineless worms. I don't take on servants, but I'll make an exception for your wife. I have great respect for the Holy Empire's mothers, and at your age, I doubt you'd be willing to leave her behind. How are you with a lancer?]

Simo's raging mind spun as he tried figuring out what was happening. As the anger fled his system, he thought he understood. He believed the Saint had just been testing him. "My build's for auto-blasters, since snipers have less promotional opportunities, but I've always been a crack shot with anything put in my hands."

[If you join my crew, which is contingent upon your current master joining my chapter, you'll receive the following benefits:

-Your son's monthly tuition debt paid while you're a member.

-A full Reset to rebuild you more efficiently for overwatch support.

-A stint in my Vitaelux Apexium for you and your wife, but I highly suggest you install an implant instead of regrowing your arm. Not the trash one your master's giving you. A good one. Our crew technicus is an Augmentifer. We have many implants on hand.

-You'll need the Neurvux and the Somnoregulator minimum, but I strongly suggest the Infernus Oculus too. Whatever gets you up to speed. As you're Tier 3, once we rebuild you, you'll qualify for the Sanctapex Trivux, which I'll approve for you.

- Performance-based rewards.

-And gear. Much better gear, along with a slew of sacred rites.

-Top of the pay scale for your rank, life insurance, all that, but the main benefits are those listed above.]

Simo stared at the words as his heart nearly pounded out of his chest. He couldn't believe his eyes. If any one of these were true, it would completely change his life. Just having life insurance alone would.

Some of the benefits listed he found hard to believe, such as the sacred rites. The Sanctapex Trivux increased all Attributes by 2. Only the super-rich and Crusaders could get it. The Nuervux was super expensive too, allowing the use of power weapons and armor.

The craziest one of all was the Reset. They could be purchased with Glory Points, the partials starting at 500, but he doubted even Crusaders ever got that many. He didn't even know Resets were a possibility outside of Glory Points, and those could only be used on the person spending them.

Until Angar, he had only accrued 91 points, using 90 of them to purchase a Class Option not long before he lost his arm.

Since serving Angar, his total had climbed by 26, but he was far away from having enough points for anything worthwhile.

Unlike Angar's generosity, this was a real job offer, and a militant one to boot. He could take as much as possible without a shred of guilt or stung pride.

He thought this had to be a prank. That he was being toyed with. "Are you serious?" he asked.

[Yes. Let me state again this is all contingent on Angar joining my chapter. If he doesn't, since you and your wife were kind enough to come aboard and humor me, I'll let you choose and install an arm implant for your trouble.]

"If…if this is true…Holy Theosis!" Simo's voice trembled as he said, "Bless you, Saint, if this is you, I mean. I'll forever be in your debt. And I'll do everything I can get to get Sir Angar to join your chapter. I swear."

[I don't want men in my debt. I want good men of staunch faith and character that obey orders without question. Oh, don't mention a word of this to Angar. If you do, the deal's off, and even if he does join my chapter, neither you nor your wife will join my crew. Not one word, understood?]

"Clearly, Saint," replied Simo, assuming the Saint wished to test Angar as he was.

[Good. Wait with your wife in the entry bay. You can speak with her freely about this offer, but not one word about it to Angar from either of you.]

"Yes, Saint."

He stepped out with his pulse hammering. Veerta wasn't there. He wondered if she was already waiting back in the entry bay, then laughter spilled from her room's closed door. She emerged moments later, beaming. "What a nice man!"

"What'd you talk about?" asked Simo.

"Our kids, mostly. He knew so much about them. Told me about his mother too. Such a sweet soul."

"Nothing else? Nothing about work? Or why he wanted to speak with us?"

Veerta blinked, her smile faltering. "Know what? We had such a pleasant conversation, I completely forgot to ask."

"Let's head back to the entry bay," Simo said, guiding her. "I've got news. News that could change everything for us and the kids."

In the entry bay, he told her the offer. Veerta's eyes widened as he spoke, her hands trembling as she clasped his. They sank to their knees, praying to the Three that Angar would join Hidetada's chapter, whatever it was. Simo hadn't known the Saint led one.

Their future dangled on Angar's choice, but hope outweighed his dread. These people were as strange as the boy was. And, it seemed, just as giving.