Special Technical Advisor

Rovi walked straight over.

"Who allowed you to step into the sacred ground?"

A Tech-Priest spun around sharply, his red bionic eye flickering with a piercing alarm light in the shadows.

"This is a restricted area. Get out, mortal! Your breath is polluting the sacred scent of machine oil."

"I heard it crying." Rovi stopped a few steps away, speaking softly.

The priest froze, his servo-arm halting mid-air for an instant.

"What did you say?"

"The Machine Spirit is weeping." Rovi raised his hand, pointing at the exhaust pipe wreathed in incense.

"It says it can't breathe. Its lungs are clogged with black poison. No matter how much incense you burn, you can't make a suffocating man draw breath."

Several priests exchanged glances, the apertures in their bionic eyes rapidly zooming in and out.

"Nonsense! This is blasphemy against the Omnissiah! We've already performed three Purification Rituals and applied the most expensive Sacred Oil!"

"Rituals soothe the soul, but the pain still lingers in the shell."

As he spoke, Rovi boldly approached the massive machine.

He pressed his hand against the cold, grease-stained Metal Casing.

Closing his eyes, he pretended to engage in some profound form of perception.

In truth, he was listening.

Not to the whispers of some ethereal spirit.

But to the sounds on a physical level.

Intermittent, faint valve impacts.

The metallic wail of steel struggling against Carbon Buildup.

"Give me a wrench. Model four, standard pitch." Rovi opened his eyes and calmly extended his hand.

"You dare touch a Holy Relic with those filthy hands?!" The lead priest flew into a rage, raising his Power Axe high, its teeth buzzing.

"If I can't fix it, you can stuff me into the furnace as fuel." Rovi looked at the axe, his tone utterly flat.

"But if this machine still won't run tomorrow, who do you think Supervisor Kase will blame?"

The priest's motion froze.

Rovi pressed on, like a devil whispering temptation, his voice low:

"He'll say your prayers weren't devout enough, your skills lacking, causing a drop in output. Do you want to be stripped of your Red Robes and sent to the front lines as cannon fodder for the Faith Militant?"

The Tech-Priests fell into silence.

Kase was exactly the type to do that.

On this planet, human lives were fuel.

And bureaucratic buck-passing was the spark to ignite it.

"Ten minutes."

After a bout of logical calculation, the lead priest lowered his axe.

He took a heavy wrench from the tool rack and shoved it hard into Rovi's hand:

"If you leave a single scratch on the Sacred Casing, I'll skin you alive and stretch your hide over the Exhaust Pipe."

Rovi took the wrench.

It was heavy, slick with Machine Oil.

He steadied his breath, then slipped like a rat into the inspection hatch beneath the machine.

Inside was pitch black, reeking of nauseating, aged Machine Oil and the rusty tang of corroded metal.

Rovi fumbled in the dark.

Found it.

The Intake Manifold's retaining bolt.

Rusted solid, just as he'd expected.

Gritting his teeth, he threw his full weight into turning it.

His muscles protested, his bones creaked.

Click.

With a screech of metal, the bolt gave way.

He quickly removed the manifold cover.

"Clatter."

A large chunk of carbon buildup, black as stone, fell off.

That was the "cancer" left behind by years of Inferior Fuel.

Rovi didn't care about the grime; he reached in with his bare hands and pried out the remaining carbon bit by bit.

The rough metal edges cut his fingertips, blood mixing with black oil as it dripped, yet he seemed to feel no pain.

After cleaning out the carbon, he adjusted the angle of the Intake Valve by feel alone.

"Give me a bottle of Sacred Oil."

He shouted from under the machine, his voice echoing in the metal cavity.

The Priest handed him a bottle of high-purity lubricant.

Rovi took it and precisely poured the oil into the dry gaps between the pistons.

Once that was done, he retightened the bolts, each movement like a surgeon stitching a wound.

He crawled out.

His face was covered in oil, his hands a bloody mess.

"Start it." Rovi threw the wrench to the ground with a crisp clang.

The Priest looked at him doubtfully, then pressed the Activation Rune.

"Boom."

The machine shuddered violently.

Then came a low, powerful, steady roar.

Gears began to mesh and turn, tracks kicking up dust from the floor.

The Exhaust Pipe no longer spewed black smoke, but a clear, forceful wave of hot air.

"It's moving..." The Priest was stunned, nearly dropping his censer. "The Machine Spirit... has awakened! Its wrath has been quelled!"

The Priests' gazes toward Rovi shifted.

No longer looking at a bug.

But at a miracle.

A "Chosen One" who could commune with the Machine Spirit.

"You... you understand the Binary Prayer?" the lead Priest asked, trembling.

"I don't." Rovi casually wiped the blood on his clothes. "I only understand listening to pain."

He picked up the wrench and respectfully handed it back to the Priest with both hands.

"Tell Supervisor Kase the machine is fixed." Rovi paused, meeting the Priest's electronic eye directly.

"Oh, and if anyone asks who fixed it, say your piety moved the Machine Spirit, and the Omnissiah answered your prayers. I'm just a mortal who handed you the wrench."

The Priests were stunned again.

In this world, credit mattered more than life.

And someone was willingly pushing away a mountain of glory?

"Why?" the Priest asked, confused, his logic circuits seemingly overloaded.

"Because I want to live." Rovi answered honestly.

"I helped you keep your positions and save face. In exchange, I need a little protection."

He continued.

"If Supervisor Kase wants to transfer me to clean the septic tank, or somewhere worse, I hope the Adeptus Mechanicus will speak up for me."

"Say my hands are steady, that I'm good for handing you wrenches. I'm a useful part, not something to be scrapped on a whim."

The lead Priest was silent for a few seconds.

His electronic eye flickered red, weighing the benefits.

Without paying any price, he gained the credit for repairing a Holy Relic, needing only to shelter a single mortal.

It was a good deal.

"Deal."

The Priest agreed.

"From today, you are Auxiliary Personnel of the Seventh Repair Workshop. In the name of the Omnissiah, Kase cannot touch you."

Rovi let out a soft breath.

The second talisman was secured.

Three days later.

Planetary Governor's Mansion.

Alicia sat at her desk, a report in hand.

A duplicate submitted by Tax Collector Marquez.

She flipped to page fourteen.

"Machine Spirit Appeasement Fee..." She let out a soft laugh.

She picked up a Masterwork Dagger beside her and gently scraped the page's bottom edge.

A line of small text emerged.

"Fuel is Food."

She understood.

She understood not just the words, but the meaning behind them.

Someone was telling her that the so-called "appeasement fee" was actually grain being stolen and sold.

And that grain had turned into fuel.

But that wasn't all.

Alicia picked up another report.

This one had just arrived from the Adeptus Mechanicus.

<A Miraculous Report on the Repair of the M36 Harvester>.

The report credited the Priest's piety, but in the appendix under "Personnel Transfer," a name appeared.

Rovi.

Appointed as Special Technical Advisor to Workshop Seven.

"Interesting." Alicia set the report down.

A lowly Scribe had not only fooled the Tax Collector but also, right under Kais's nose, found himself a patron in the Adeptus Mechanicus.

He hadn't come directly to the Governor to tattle.

Because he knew snitches die fast.

He'd demonstrated his value through this method.

He was saying—

I have brains, I have skill, and I'm cautious.

"Captain of the Guard." Alicia called out.

A woman clad in a Black Carapace walked in.

"Yes, Your Excellency."

"Go to Granary Seven. Bring me that Rovi."

Alicia paused.

"Don't make a scene. Wait until nightfall. Use my Personal Shuttle. Don't let that fool Kais know."

"Yes."

The Captain of the Guard turned and left.

Alicia stood up and walked to the window.

Outside, the Hive City blazed with lights.

The uncles and elders in her family were stirring restlessly.

The Ordo's Black Ship was also parked at the edge of the star system.

She was isolated and helpless.

Until now.

She saw a faint glimmer in the darkness.

"Don't disappoint me, Rovi."

She said to her reflection on the glass.

Granary Seven, employee dormitory.

Rovi lay on his hard cot.

He wasn't asleep.

He stared at the mold stains on the ceiling, his mind blank.

He was replaying every move he'd made over the past three days.

The ledger was clean.

The relationship with the Adeptus Mechanicus was stable for now.

Kais had taken the chip, and out of respect for the Adeptus Mechanicus, he hadn't caused trouble for the time being.

It seemed safe.

But Rovi knew this was only the calm before the storm.

Kais was a greedy man.

A greedy man had no limits.

Once this blew over, Kais would still make his move.

He had to climb higher—to a place Kais couldn't reach.

Suddenly, footsteps came from outside the door.

Very light.

Not the heavy boots of the patrol—soft-soled shoes.

Rovi quickly sat up, his hand reaching under the pillow, where a sharpened, discarded screwdriver was hidden.

The lock melted silently.

The door opened.

A dark figure slipped inside.

Just as Rovi was about to lunge, a cold Bolt Pistol pressed against his forehead.

"Don't move."

A woman's voice, cold as ice.

In the light from the hallway, Rovi made out the figure.

Black Carapace, a Respirator Mask on her face.

The mark of the Governor's Personal Guard.

Rovi let go of the screwdriver.

He raised his hands.

He felt no fear.

On the contrary, the corner of his mouth curled up just slightly.

He had gambled right.

That female governor was even smarter than he had imagined.

She had understood the code.

"Get dressed," the woman said. "The governor wants to see you."

"Now?" Rovi asked.

"Now."

Rovi got out of bed and put on his tattered robe.

"Use the back door," the woman said, holstering her gun. "Don't let anyone see you."

"Understood."