Tea for One

[Wargamer]

Since Sotek has been writing about my Chapter Master, I figured I should write about him as well! I have a full story in the works, but for now enjoy this little piece; a prequel to Tea for Two.



Chapter Master Ximo did not sleep. Astartes required only a token period of rest each day, and war had rendered him down to little more than a few pounds of organic tissue encased in a cybernetic body. He did not need to sleep; he could simply be turned off for the night. Mostly, he did not sleep because, in a metaphorical sense, he knew far too many who were sleeping already. Alas, sometimes exceptions had to be made.
He had no eyes to open; no limbs to stretch nor jaws with which to yawn. He simply became aware of the world once more, perceiving it via the audio-visual implants connected to his ceramite skull. He took in the world quickly, noting the trio of attendants fussing over his head and body, which was currently on the other side of the operating theatre. He wished to speak to them, but for now he had no voice.
With the sombre ceremony of a pall-bearer, the senior Apothecary brought Ximo's mortal remains to the cybernetic masterpiece that was his body. His skull was steered into place and connected to the internal motor chords, MIU cables and life support mechanisms that allowed him to exist in the world of the living. It was a dull process, made all the more tedious by his continued inability to communicate. He would have liked to know of the events beyond his chamber; of the fortunes, good or ill, of his Chapter. He would have liked to dismiss the concerns of those attending him before they could be voiced. He would have especially liked to point out to Cylaros, the Chapter Champion, that standing right outside the door was in keeping with the letter, but not the spirit, of his instructions to be left unattended.
All of those things had to wait until the manipulators of flesh and metal had done their work. Ximo lurched upright, ignoring the light headedness that flittered behind his augmented eyes, and began the bizarre ritual of choosing a face. He had four to choose from. Each was tailored, to varying degrees of efficiency, to protect and enhance the life support apparatus coiling up out of his torso. Two were intricate false faces, capable of close, if rather grim approximation of human facial expressions. With fresh synthskin applied over them, Ximo could even pass for a living creature.
"I think the visor today," he said in his throat-vox's default electronic tone. Said visor was the oldest of his faces, though its featureless finish made the term 'face' questionable.

It took a further ten minutes for the visor to be attached, and ten more to dismiss his retainers. That left a good half hour to reflect upon their parting words. "Three weeks..." the voice he used resembled the one he had used when he still had vocal chords. "Too long. Far too long."
Apparently having grown tired of obeying instructions, Cylaros stepped through the door and stood at attention in the centre of the chamber. Ximo ignored him, instead staring at the cluttered technoarcana that made up his out of body home. From the outside the machine appeared to have been frozen in place mid explosion, and it irked the Chapter Master that he did not truly understand the functions of many of the device's components.
"We dock in two hours," Cylaros announced when his presence was not heeded.
Those five words were more than enough to catch Ximo's attention. "Dock? Dock where? More to the point, how can we dock? I was not aware I was on a ship, Cylaros!"
"You needed your rest, Master." The Champion replied, unconcerned at his commander's anger.
With an unbecoming huff, Ximo dismissed the statement. "You and I shall have words later. Bring me up to speed."
"We are two hours out of the Fortress of Dawn. Master Victoreige extends a personal invitation to you, and would like to meet with you on arrival."
"Tell him I do not wish to leave the vessel for reasons I am sure he shall understand, but invite him to visit me here. Oh, and prepare my recluse."
"At once, Master." Cylaros bowed and departed, leaving Ximo to return to his in-depth study of one of an amniotic filter.

Away from the grim collection of machinery, the recluse felt like a home away from home. It was a space that could be many things for the Chapter Master, able to be transformed from a bare cell of contemplation to a functional war room and everything in between. Anticipating his intent, Cylaros had produced a low circular table with two simple chairs, an eclectic collection of Chapter relics to adorn the walls, and a delicate porcelain tea set. After a few moments consideration, Ximo chose to add one additional artefact to the collection around him; the exquisitely fabricated false-face he had come to favour. He thought it was quite ugly, to be truthful, but it had been a gift and gifts should always be accepted graciously.
He took a seat before the tea set and began the process of boiling water. "The crate can stay," he announced to the room. "it gives the room a certain utilitarian charm. Are you going to stand out there all day?"
The Astartes that emerged was not Cylaros, as Ximo had anticipated. The advantage of having no face was that he could never look surprised, and so he simply continued, "Captain Xeran, you know by now that I do not stand on ceremony. For the eighth time, you are welcome to visit me whenever you seek my counsel."
"Thank you, Master," the Fourth Captain answered, and took the offered seat. "I suspect that this ceremony is not meant for me."
Ximo smiled as only a featureless face could, "Of all my Captains you are the only one who is not aggravated by this 'silly ritual' I acquired. I dare say you find it relaxing... and here it is, in your time of need."
"Quite," Xeran said, and that was the last thing he said for a long time. The teapot boiled, the cups were filled, and they drank. In Xeran's case, he drank by parting his lips and passing the tea between them. Ximo drank via cranial mechadendrites that extruded through facial access ports. It was an unforgettable sight, though several Imperial dignitaries had tried their best to do so.
Then came silence. No questions, no postulations, just silence. After an appropriate length of time the teacups, comically small and fragile in the hands of Astartes, were refilled and drained again. After that, Xeran excused himself with a bow. "Thank you, Master."
"Go with my blessing, Captain."
Xeran was replaced with Cylaros, who took the tea set to be cleaned and prepared for the next visitor. "What did the Brother Captain wish of you, Master?"
"Throne knows," Ximo answered bluntly. "Perhaps fifteen minutes free of his squad?"
"I would not speak ill of them. They are brave warriors one and all," the Champion said dutifully.
"No you would not, but sometimes we must speak ill of people for their own good. That is a lesson I learned too late in life."
It seemed to Cylaros that his master's whirrs and clicks had taken on a melancholic tone. Without comment he placed the fresh tea set down and watched as Ximo brought the tea to boil once more.
"Perhaps it is the way of things that we learn our lessons late. With Xeran it was that the loss of men is not a failure; with Kyata it was when to quit. Texr, too cautious; Yros, to reckless; Aykon..."
The words were drowned out by the gentle sounds of mechanical feeders sucking up warm liquid. The loud silence Ximo's musings had created drowned out the sound of the cup's return to the table. "I wonder what the next Chapter Master will say I failed to learn?"
"How not to over-think things." None but Cylaros would have dared speak to the Chapter Master so bluntly, and his lack of protocol was rewarded by a harsh, static-warped laugh.
"Oh, very good! Very good, and very true." Ximo turned to the Champion and offered up the teapot. "Refill it once more, then make yourself absent. Perhaps you could amuse yourself with the good Captain and his men aboard the Citadel of Dawn? I have no doubt the Bright Lords will admire a man as pious as you."
"As you will, Master."
Once left alone, Ximo allowed himself one last chuckle at the expense of the Champion. "And what is your failing, I wonder..."

That was a question he would consider another time; the sound of armoured footsteps in the hall told him he had company

[LinnScarlett]

Oh very good, very good! As you well know I've been sitting on reading more about your (and also Isaac's) chapter master/s. Now I feel compelled to write something about my own... but what...?

En fin, I really like what you did here, it has some great dialogue moments and the backdrop of Ximo's reactivation from slumber is very nicely done. Cookies for you! 

[Thantos]

Awesome style. I really love the dry humour in your stories wargy, very british!

I feel like 2S should attempt a group story, a rough plot is set out and each person takes it in turns to write a few paragraphs? Story meanders along

[Wargamer]

I'm certainly game for that!

[BigToof]

Agreed to all of the above!
Very cool story.
Would love to see this turn into a series.

Best,
-BT

[LinnScarlett]

It IS a series, together with Tea For Two, I should think? Hehe.

Ugh the database crash ate the big posts of stories! Cry. Still need to fix some back up (am in the process of re-designing Aquila for like, the billionth time, and Burn The Heretic for the like... I don't even remember) XP