Warhammer 40k : Space Marine Kayvaan

"No," she said, her voice calm and detached. "I am a servitor in all but function. I exist to serve. If this body is damaged, it will be replaced. I am not burdened by such concepts."

Kayvaan's mind churned with a whirlwind of thoughts, tangling together like a basket of loose yarn tossed into a storm. It was chaos, pure and simple. Frustrated, he slapped his cheeks to shake off the muddled haze and made his way to the wine cabinet. Pouring himself a generous glass of amasec, he downed it in one gulp. Then another. By the third glass, he exhaled deeply, the warmth of the alcohol loosening the tension in his chest. Finally, he felt clear-headed enough to think.

The first question he needed to answer was simple: Should he help Valyra? Should he stand by her side?

The answer came almost immediately. Of course, he should. Valyra was his sister, after all. But then doubt crept in, gnawing at the edges of his resolve. Was she really his sister? "What a ridiculous question," Kayvaan muttered, shaking his head at his own cowardice. Without hesitation, he slapped himself hard enough to sting. "Of course she is. If I'm Kayvaan, then Valyra is my sister."

Blood ties weren't something that could be debated. Even if her veins now carried something strange—be it electricity or motor oil—it didn't change the fact that they shared the same father. That bond was undeniable. 

Still, the question lingered: What had he done to deserve this life? He'd been thrust into this world with a strong body, a renowned name, and a level of power most people could only dream of. It had all come to him effortlessly, leaving him feeling uneasy, as if such unearned fortune might vanish like a mirage.

Kayvaan clenched his fists. If he spent his days simply enjoying what he had without a care in the world, then he would be nothing more than a bastard—a boy, not a man. And the difference between the two, he knew, came down to responsibility. Boys could apologize and move on when they made mistakes. Men, on the other hand, bore the weight of their faults and the consequences of those tied to them.

Valyra was his responsibility. His burden.

No, not a burden. She was the only thing in this vast, unfamiliar world that truly felt real. Empires, planetary governors, and humanity as a concept all seemed abstract, distant. But Valyra, with her struggles and sorrow, grounded him. She gave him purpose. His resolve firmed, and strength surged back into his body. "I'll help her," Kayvaan murmured. "No matter what it takes."

But how? Where would he even begin? Her mind, warped by centuries of existence within a metal shell, was the root of the problem. That wasn't something he could fix overnight. It would take time, patience, and trust to help her find her way back.

For now, the priority was keeping her safe and hidden.

Kayvaan's gaze shifted to No. 74, who stood silently in the corner. She was a servitor—young and strikingly beautiful in appearance, but her role was one of unquestioning labor. Her presence gnawed at him, incongruous and unsettling. Like a pearl tossed into the mud, her beauty only made her more noticeable. "You can't walk around looking like that," Kayvaan said, gesturing at her. "You'll draw too much attention. Do you have a disguise?"

Without a word, No. 74 nodded. From within her cloak, she produced a standard rebreather mask and slipped it on. She zipped up her robe, covering her figure entirely, and stomped into a pair of oversized, battered leather boots. The transformation was startling. Where once stood an elegant figure, there was now a ragged, nondescript servitor.

No one would give her a second glance. Just like the countless workers who toiled in the manufactorums, servitors were invisible to society—too insignificant to care about."That'll do," Kayvaan said with a nod. His unease eased. "Once we're done here, I'll collapse this tunnel."

"Yes, Master," she replied quietly. Kayvaan took a deep breath, steeling himself. He'd seal this secret underground and bury it for good. Once that was done, he'd focus on eliminating the danger that threatened Valyra.

When he returned to his study, a house servant approached with news: two important visitors were waiting for him aboard the Ebony Shadow.

One was an old acquaintance, Inquisitor Elizabeth. She was as striking as ever, clad in her battle-sister-pattern power armor. The white plating gleamed with intricate engravings, and the strips of purity seals hanging from her shoulder plates hinted at her many accomplishments. Despite her beauty, her icy demeanor kept everyone at arm's length.

The other visitor, though unfamiliar, was someone Kayvaan had already labeled as "dangerous." He wore a dark green robe and had eight mechanical arms extending from his back. His fair complexion and gold-rimmed glasses gave him the air of a scholar, especially with the nervous energy flickering in his light blue eyes. If not for the flamboyant mechanical appendages, he could have passed for an ordinary intellectual. This was Gustav Magos, the manufactorum overseer of Ferrum-3.

Elizabeth gestured invitingly toward the man sitting across the room. "This is Gustav," she said, introducing him. "He's the planetary and manufactorum director of the Ferrum-3 Forge World, which falls under your purview. Gustav, this is Lord Kayvaan, the sector governor."

Gustav rose from his seat, bowing slightly. "It's an honor to meet you, my lord. I should've come sooner to congratulate you on assuming your station, but matters of grave importance kept me. Now, though, I'm here to request your aid with something urgent."

Kayvaan raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what would that be?"

"It's about STCs," Gustav said simply. Kayvaan felt his heart skip a beat. It was as if his chest would explode. He'd only just learned from his sister about the monumental secret of the Standard Template Construct. He had barely begun to process the revelation or strategize how to keep it from the Adeptus Mechanicus, and now Gustav had come out of nowhere, casually dropping the term.

Despite the storm within, Kayvaan kept his expression composed, showing only faint curiosity. His posture exuded a dismissive calm, as if to say: 'STC? Impressive, perhaps, but what does that matter to me?'

Gustav, anticipating the reaction, leaned forward slightly. "As you are aware, the Mechanicus has scoured the galaxy for Standard Template Constructs. Most of our searches rely on fragments of records unearthed from the vaults of Mars. A long time ago, data suggested an STC fragment might be hidden in the Eastern Fringe. The search area spans thousands of systems, and the Reach Star in your sector was once listed as a candidate."

Kayvaan's pulse quickened. He kept his voice calm, though, and asked casually, "An STC in my territory? Are you certain? What evidence do you have?"