Alpia says, “Dad, before we try a new power, can you tell me what the weird creature diving in and out of the dataslate is? Those wings look like flippers. The golden crown is cool though.”

“It’s a Royal Penguin. Back when Old Earth still had oceans, you could find them on Macquarie Island in the South Pacific Ocean. It’s an aquatic bird. Some species of penguin could hold their breath for over thirty minutes, though most dives were typically closer to five minutes. They ate small fish and krill, much like we do. People used to hunt Royal Penguins for oil, about half a litre per bird.”

“That’s so wasteful. So why is a penguin a Machine-Spirit for a dataslate? What part of their behaviour translates into a useful guide for a machine?”

“Holding your breath while diving into the degenerate parts of the noosphere? A joke about an ancient operating system from a time before we had Machine-Spirits? I could come up with all sorts of reasons.”

“Eww. I don’t want to think about that. What’s the silliest Machine-Spirit you’ve seen?”

“Last tangent OK? I know those spirits look interesting to you, but we really need to get these powers sorted. Insect-Class Machine-Spirits amuse me, especially the dung beetle used for most lasguns.”

“What? Telling our enemies to eat shit and die?”

I laugh, “Could be. I think it’s because the dung beetle was a key species that dispersed seeds and nutrients throughout their environment. The lasgun is arguably the most important weapon humanity ever created. It is fairly weak and humble, compared to its competitors, like gauss, pulse, or shuriken weaponry, yet it underpins our whole civilization.”

“That’s so you, Dad. I think there’s a bit more to this technopathy though. Don’t drop it yet.”

“Alright.”

Alpia holds the dataslate and squints, then starts to sweat. “I overclocked it. Not just any overclock. An impossible one. That dataslate is thirty percent faster right now and will be until I stop boosting it. I feel like I’m taking on some of that impossible load too, not just powering it with my blessing. My biomonitor noticed my brain is heating up slowly.”

“Dangerous but useful. We can test your limits later.”

“I’ll be the fastest Knight Pilot in the galaxy!”

“If you don’t cook your noggin first, sure. I’ve got the next thread, pull on another blessing.”

“Aw, the penguin thingy disappeared.” Alpia frowns, “I’m getting information from my implants, I think but I don’t understand it.”

“What about the dataslate?”

“It’s the same. Like I already know the information, maybe?”

“Hmm, hold my hand a moment, and don’t bother saying you’re not a kid anymore.”

I hold my hand out, palm upwards, and Alpia gingerly rests her fingers upon it, clearly remembering she broke Fial’s finger by accident.

Alpia gasps and pulls back her hand immediately, as if she just touched a hot surface.

E-SIM says, ++Don’t let Alpia do that again. She just tried to access my systems for the user manual, a diagnostic, and more importantly, a schematic. The last would have turned her brain into mush. Fortunately I was able to refuse the data access. A less able and powerful machine could cause her significant harm. A void ship, for example.++

“Dad, what was that?” says Alpia, her face turning white.

“My personal Machine-Spirit. It is very powerful and rejected you. For now, do not use that power on a powerful machine, that includes me, void ships, and possibly titans. It could kill you. We might be able to fix that problem later. I have a theory about what that power does and have a way to test it. Try petting Dawn Garnet. She’s simple enough.”

“You don’t get it, Dad. It wasn’t just me that got rejected, but the Emperor and the Machine-God. They were distinctly wary of your Machine-Spirit, as if it could do them great harm. The only thing that could manage that is an Abominable Intelligence or another god!”

“That’s a secret, Alpia. One I have kept from everyone for their own good, and you just blurted it out. I trust all of you to keep it. I don’t trust others not to go digging in your heads. E-SIM is not an AI or a god, just a very powerful Machine-Spirit, like a crusade era titan or void ship. It just looks that way to you because you’ve never connected to a Machine-Spirit that powerful.”

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you're a princeps as well?” says Alpia. “How come you can do everything?”

“It’s a Dark Age of Technology MIU, nothing that special. My research into it is how I improved the model that everyone in the fleet gets, as well as the Custom Cortex Implant all our senior officers and our family have.”

“I can tell you’re downplaying it, Dad. Our bond goes both ways, but fine, I won’t prod.”

Brigid shakes off Alpia’s aura, “So that’s what you’ve been hiding all these years. It really irritated me not knowing. Having met JK-404, Abbisine Vakul, and Inquisitor Lyre I understand why you hid it though Aldrich.

“Don’t press him on this, Alpia. That goes for you too, boys. Now pet the dog. I’m so very proud of you Alpia, but this Aura is really draining to shake off. I wouldn’t be able to do it if it wasn’t for the Custom Cortex Implant, so that should give you a damn good idea why we don’t want anyone to really know what your overly generous Father has been handing out.”

“I get it! I’ll be good.” Alpia touches the top of Dawn Garnet’s head with a single pinky finger. “Oh, I know how to pilot a Cyber Mastiff body! I don’t think I could write down the instructions, I just know how to do it, like it was my own body, rather than actively thinking about the controls.” Alpia removes her finger, “It’s gone. I guess this power is the instinctual use of machines.”

I say, “Well, that’s going to throw the cat among the pigeons if all the Mechanicus Saints have the same powers as you. Hopefully curiosity won’t wipe out too many of them.”

“The what now?” says Brigid.

“Ah, I didn’t mention that yet, did I. Alpia isn’t the only new Saint. There’s dozens of them and a few other revelations besides. I’m betting that they all have similar powers. The Mechanicus have an effectively unlimited number of devices that they do not know how to use or even turn on. Everything from toasters to vortex weaponry, to lost archives and standard template constructors. It’s a complete toss up between if they’ll revive their order, hide in fear, or obliterate their Forge Worlds.”

“Why would the Machine-God even do that?” says Alpia

“Because three primarchs have returned and the Ruinous Powers are countering them with six Black Crusades, likely led by the traitor Primarchs. The Star Child pointed them out to me. I’m still freaking out about it, honestly. Exploring Alpia’s new powers is a productive distraction.”

“Aldrich, you really should have led with that,” says Brigid.

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“We can’t do anything about it right now and panicking won’t do any good,” I say. “Far better to focus on what we can do and gather information. I was going to tell you after Alpia found out how to control her aura. It’s rather hard to have a discussion when you’re all experiencing a religious epiphany, but I am scared, so it slipped out.”

“Your logic is sound,” says Brigid, “My heart says otherwise.”

I chuckle, “We are really bad at being traditional Tech-Priests.”

Alpia’s lower lip trembles, “Dad, let’s try the next power.”

“I’m ready, go for it.”

Alpia’s head snaps to Dawn Garnet. The Cyber Mastiff crawls off Alpia’s lap and lies in front of her, then enters sleep mode. Alpia’s mechadendrites descend upon the unfortunate dog as she starts pulling it apart, running her hands and tools over each piece. Her mechadendrites glow with flecks of silver flame as they disassemble each part, metal, flesh, and plastic warping unnaturally beneath tiny tweezers, welders, and powerblades.

“Alpia?” says Brigid. “What are you doing to the family dog?”

Alpia does not respond, seemingly lost in a focused trance as she manipulates each piece of the Cyber Mastiff, then reassembles it. Brigid and I watch, our sensors recording every strange ripple.

I say, “She’s repairing Dawn Garnet, fixing micro fractures and other imperfections. Sometimes Alpia just cleans and oils the parts.”

“Alpia hasn’t studied Cyber Mastiff repair,” says Brigid. “That looks like matter manipulation to me. The mass of the dog is changing.”

“Necron technology as a warp power,” I say, “and instinctual repair of mechanical devices. Alpia is tiring quickly though. She definitely can’t do much matter manipulation in one go.”

“Remarkable though,” says Brigid. “That puts the list at the connection, use, and repair of machinery. The scale is small, but this is going to change everything. This is going to affect how many STCs we can trade and likely lead to a resurgence of the Mechanicus.”

“One can hope,” I say. “The question is if the Mechanincus can bootstrap the Imperium back into orbit fast enough. They are as conservative as they are zealous, so I really have no idea what direction this will go in. I expect external pressures will be the deciding factor.”

Alpia awareness returns, “I have no idea what I just did.”

“You performed maintenance on Dawn Garnet,” says Brigid. “Instinctual repair and matter manipulation.”

“Why are there so many limitations!” says Alpia. “These new powers are cool and all, but they all seem to follow the same theme, making me a conduit or puppet for a higher, more knowledgeable entity. Sure, I get the material and political benefits from them, but I don’t get any knowledge. Nothing that actually increases my worth.”

“I don’t think that speculating on the motives of gods and their skills will make us feel better, or change what will happen,” I say. “Besides, you’d hate not having to work for further knowledge and skills. You’ve fought for every scrap of respect to be seen as talented by your own merits, rather than those Brigid and I have handed to you. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of ways to squeeze out some more benefits if you put your mind to it.”

“Yeah, I did do that, didn’t I? Thanks, Dad.”

“On the topic of speculation,” says Brigid, “I disagree. We are less likely to be blindsided if we have a firm grip on the goals of our gods. We do have to survive their machinations.”

Alpia says, “Is this about control? If I had knowledge I wouldn’t need them, and so they give me none so that I must do their bidding.”

“Possibly,” says Brigid, “but you are assuming you aren’t doing what they already want purely by existing. I imagine Saints are rather loud in the Warp. Aldrich?”

“Your mother is correct. You are an absolute trouble magnet, Alpia, one big enough to navigate by and suppress corruption all around you. We’d better add a second Gellar Field to all our vessels, just in case, or see if we can improve the displacer fencing with supplementary effects. I might see about adding internal shields to our bulkheads and increasing our compartmentalising efforts too for all major components. It will throw Charon’s expansion off schedule, and likely require some serious structural reworking to actually fit into our void ships, but I’m not taking any chances.”

“Dad, why didn’t we do that before when we actually made them? You should have at least planned for those upgrades, even if you couldn’t fit them in.” Alpia says.

“A few reasons. Every cubic metre of space is precious, even in our massive vessels. If it’s not being used, we’re doing it wrong. For example, our ships have less ornamentation and we have cargo rails hanging from our vaulted corridors; our walls are covered in plants and warding runes. One can reduce claustrophobia, improve morale, grow food, and move people and materials all in one space, all while looking good.

“Leaving empty space to improve internal defences when they’re already excellent was just overkill, especially when it would require us to compromise on other components that we also need.

“Mechanicus vessels are often much more limited as we don’t just store back up components picked up from Forge Worlds, but bring everything we need to build whatever we like. If it wasn’t for the self-configuring micro-factories STC I found, we wouldn’t be able to cram as many components into our vessels as we do. Not only that, all our components are far beyond vessels in the same class.

“All our vessels have Castellan Shield arrays and Overload Shield Capacitors. The combination means they can mitigate three times as much ordinance as a void shield of the same class, and that’s before we direct shielding to a single facing. Not only that, but even our escorts can launch up to twenty torpedoes simultaneously via the Vitrum-Class bombers and do so at near point blank where they are hard to shoot down. A battleship can manage eight torpedoes in a single volley, though they could easily launch many more if they’re equipped with hangars, rather than guns.”

Alpia stares at me and grins as my rant picks up steam.

I continue, “Our Machine-Spirits are better integrated into our vessels too. Our guns reload faster, are more accurate, and can hit at a longer range. Our engines and generators are smaller and more powerful, our armour is lighter and tougher, our crews are better coordinated and properly cross trained in multiple roles. Really, I could go on for hours about this stuff.

“We’re not invincible by any means, but the idea that we would need to add even more defences seemed silly at the time. I wanted extra storage and manufacturing for a voyage that could have lasted a thousand years if we were unlucky. Our situation has changed and so the Fleet must change with it.”

“You’re pretty passionate about this, Dad. No wonder you chose to be an Explorator. Luan just passed out though, so shall we do another power? Didn’t you keep saying we’re in a hurry?”

I clear my throat, “That’s right. Go ahead, Alpia.”

Alpia concentrates for a moment, and her wings disappear, “I can finally sit on chairs and sleep on my back again. What a relief! Alright, next!”

This time, we get the right one and Alpia’s oppressive aura dissipates, though her wings pop out again. I really thought it was going to be the last power at this rate, but there is still one more and it’s likely the invincibility aura.

“Well done you two,” says Brigid.

Fial groans and sits up, “That was rough. Kinda creepy watching you take the dog apart and being stuck, unable to move. At least that puts a horror holovid out of the running after the live demonstration.”

Alpia raises an eyebrow, “Do you want me to break your finger again?”

“No. You might kiss me too. One scar on my psyche was enough,” says Fial.

Brigid and I smile fondly at each other as the kids bicker. I’m glad they’re not letting Alpia’s changes affect their relationship, even if the four of them are intensely irritating when they are together.

Dareaca sniggers, “Is Luan actually passed out, or did he fall asleep? Also, your powers suck, Alpia. What sort of self respecting brother obeys their sister?”

“A smart one?” says Alpia, twirling her finger through her hair, “Then again, you’ve always been the simp-athetic type. Perhaps paying more attention to me will lift you from the oil and muck you like to bathe in.”

“Oh come on! That was awful,” says Dareaca. Despite his mock outrage, he looks rather relieved.

Alpia ignores Dareaca with a dramatic toss of her head and prods Luan with a wing, “Wakey, wakey, brother mine.”

Luan sneezes, then bats away the feathers tickling his face and sits up. He stares at Alpia for a few moments, blinking slowly.

“Ah, you fixed the resting bitch face. Praise the Omnissiah.”

Alpia scowls and prods Luan again but he gently takes her wing in his hand and carefully strokes her feathers, “How are you feeling?”

“Scared? Confused? Annoyed? Maybe excited?” says Alpia. “This is all too new. I haven’t decided how I should feel about doubling in size and getting powers I didn’t want or need. I’m already famous, popular, talented, and pretty. It’s like everything has changed, yet nothing has changed.”

“Good to see that your ego is still intact,” says Luan. “You wouldn’t be the same without it.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m fine. Thank you, everyone.”

We all smile at Alpia and she sweeps us all up with her new wings and long arms, and holds us close. It feels strange to be the small one, especially when it’s my daughter who is the tall one.

“I’m still choosing the holovid though,” says Alpia, ruining the moment.

Our sitting room quickly devolves into a heated debate.