Chapter 50: To Fix the World, We Start by Fixing This Ship

Chapter 50: To Fix the World, We Start by Fixing This Ship

"As you will, my Lord."

Captain Aurora's surprise grew. This ship—the Dawnlight—its Machine Spirit had always been aloof and proud. How could it respond so proactively? It was a blessing it didn't throw a tantrum over the name change, let alone this.

Her mind still reeling with questions, Aurora led Romulus and his entourage, guided by the ship's menials, to the Mechanicus-style bridge.

"My Lord, here is the roster of the ship's acting department heads, along with their service records. Do you require any adjustments?"

After ushering the Emperor's Angels to the command thrones, Captain Aurora presented a detailed list, a faint flicker of apprehension in her eyes.

Romulus took the data-slate. With his superhuman memory and a flipping speed far greater than any normal human's, he quickly absorbed the information.

"Unnecessary. The positions will remain as they are. However, I will require a detailed report on the ship's functional capabilities and the personal files of all crew members later," Romulus stated. He had only just boarded; he wasn't about to start shuffling around people who were doing their jobs well.

"Understood, my Lord." Captain Aurora breathed a sigh of relief. Although it seemed the Angel did intend to involve himself in the ship's personnel matters, the fact that he was willing to learn the specifics first was the best possible outcome.

"However, I do have some new requirements."

"Please, my Lord, speak." The captain's response was less apprehensive now, and more confident. "We will see it done." She had been mentally prepared for changes in the ship's regulations following the change in ownership.

"First, our Chapter will be instituting new regulations regarding the dietary standards for all crew members. Here is the list. The Chapter will install new food production modules on the ship. You may have your Tech-Priests verify their feasibility," Romulus said, handing over a pre-prepared data-slate.

"Second, the Chapter will distribute a medicae supplement capable of curing the vast majority of occupational void-sicknesses. It can be submitted to your medicae department for safety analysis beforehand. Ensure it is distributed to every single person."

Aurora carefully read the classifications on the list. It noted that the food was produced by reprocessing a high-nutrient paste through a conversion module. She knew the Imperium possessed food conversion technology, capable of turning corpse starch or nutrient paste into food that was indistinguishable from the real thing in taste and texture. But such technology was incredibly expensive. A single-person module was a fortune. True nobles had an abundance of organic food and could simply purchase live animals for their meals, while the common masses couldn't afford to be picky. They were thankful to get a mouthful of unexpired nutrient paste. At most, some high-ranking naval officers might try to acquire it, which was why the technology had never been widely adopted in the Imperium.

As for the void-sicknesses, that was, frankly, another non-issue for the Imperium. High-ranking officers had dedicated medicae departments providing comprehensive care. The lives of indentured laborers and tech-thralls were cheap. At every starport, the available stock of laborers numbered in the hundreds of millions. It was more important to worry about whether the ship's armsmen had enough weapons for the next rebellion than to worry about the health of the lower decks.

"Thank you for your mercy, my Lord!" Aurora said, her heart filling with joy for the lower-deck workers as she read the requirements. These weren't requirements; they were benefits.

Of course, Aurora was happy. If the lower-deck workers' lives improved, they would be less likely to rebel. Then she and the other administrative staff wouldn't have to do any extra work. Every time there was a rebellion, especially in the Warp, the entire ship was on edge.

"Good. Please assign the relevant personnel. The equipment is in the cargo lander. Our warriors will accompany your teams to supervise the transport, installation, and distribution." Romulus raised a hand, and two Space Marines stepped out from the ranks behind him.

"Understood." Aurora immediately dispatched the relevant officers. Fortunately, the Magi of the Adeptus Mechanicus valued efficiency; they were well-suited to this pace.

"Next are the requirements," Romulus said, producing another, more detailed document. "I wish for you to organize a contingent of workers to construct chapels in designated areas to spread the Imperial Creed. The blueprints are included. You may modify them according to the actual conditions, but you must ensure that each area can fulfill its intended function."

This was something Romulus had planned for a long time. He had studied numerous Imperial records and drafted several different plans. After observing the fleets of the Carcharodons and the Adeptus Mechanicus, Romulus had ultimately chosen a more conservative approach, laying the groundwork for a parish school system. With the Sisters supervising, it should be able to operate stably.

After all, the Imperium itself could not be relied upon. The Age of Apostasy had shown that Terra's ability to mobilize the lower classes was nothing compared to the Ecclesiarchy's. As for the matter of faith, as Ramesses put it, if you had tried to promote the Imperial Cult ten thousand years ago, you would have been executed, because the Emperor could still physically fly His fleet over and deal with any upstart gods Himself. But now it was M41. The Emperor was welded to His toilet and couldn't get off. The Imperial Creed was the only means He had left to protect humanity. To still believe in the Imperial Truth at this point was madness.

Aurora accepted the blueprints, marveling at the design of the chapels. Then she noticed the section detailing the workers' benefits and couldn't help but be astonished.

"Furthermore, the supply of servitor-material will be handled by us from now on. No servitor conversion will be permitted without our consent."

It seems these lords truly care for the mortals.

"I understand, my Lord." Aurora felt it was necessary to pass this signal on, lest some idiot who couldn't read the situation ruin the Angel's plans.

"The Canoness will accompany them," Romulus then said to Arabella. "Sister Arabella, I wish for the sisters of your Order to conduct a census of all children under the age of twelve on this vessel. Then, establish parish mess halls to ensure these children receive regular meals, and to propagate the Imperial Creed."

The Imperium's standard of construction and efficiency was incredibly high, especially on a Mechanicus vessel. With sufficient raw materials, a day was more than enough time to completely overhaul a section of the ship. This bizarre nation was always in a superposition of being both advanced and backward.

"Yes, my Lord," Arabella replied. She understood that there was little they could provide in terms of direct combat support. They had to handle these smaller, but crucial, details for the holy warriors.

"I will prepare everything personally. If you would please come with me, Canoness," Aurora said, excusing herself and inviting Arabella to leave with her.

Romulus then dismissed the various officers and, along with Ramesses, went to the fore of the bridge. From here, they could survey the entire star system through the main viewscreen. Looking down, they could see the tired but still slowly moving crowds of people on the internal monitors.

Romulus, of course, had the intention of improving the environment on this warship. The average work hours in the Imperium would make even the colonial-era British Empire gasp in awe. But since he hadn't yet conducted a detailed study, he wouldn't rashly interfere with the ship's entire social structure. He could only start by trying to improve the overall quality of life.

Of course, even if his investigations revealed all sorts of difficulties, Romulus would not give up. He was a firm believer in the principle of "If one cannot sweep a single room, how can one sweep the world?"

If they couldn't even manage a single Tyrant-class cruiser and its ten thousand crew members, then they might as well forget about fixing a planet, let alone an entire Imperium, in the future.

(End of Chapter)