Engines of Heaven: The Great Work

Posted on Mon Dec 16th, 2019 @ 4:03pm by Bomoor Thort & Amare
Edited on on Wed Jun 8th, 2022 @ 2:03pm

2,001 words; about a 10 minute read

Chapter: Additional Stories
Location: Ord Yutani
Timeline: 1,213 ABY

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This post takes place in 1,213 ABY, around four years before Thane and Bomoor encountered the Cult of Axion on Nar Shaddaa, during their earliest years as Jedi Knights.

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"Soon shall We cast terror into the hearts of the Renunciates, for that they joined companions with Jedi, for which She had sent no authority. And let not those who disbelieve suppose that they can outstrip Her. Lo! They cannot escape. Make ready for them all thou canst of force and foot, that thereby ye may dismay the Enemy of the Goddess and your Enemy."

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The glowing amber light of the ageing system sun bloomed against the silvery plated surface of the great and holy construction that lay suspended in the shipyard below. From the viewing platform above, the humble pontiff of the Pius Dea religion, Archprelate Contispex XX, stood in reverence and with anticipation of the great works that could be achieved by the machine below.

A willowy Human man with eyes as gray as ash, long unkempt white hair to his shoulders, and a full white beard devoid of a mustache, the twentieth Archprelate to bear his name was the paragon of graceful ageing, though his knees and his near-skeletal hands trembled from the stress of years of toiling at difficult labours in service to the Faith.

What had been known in ancient times as a World Devastator, would become the symbol of his new Nea Glarist movement within the religion: the rebirth of the faith that welcomed all races and backgrounds into the Goddess’ graceful glare. Contispex had named the colossal spaceship the Cathedral of the Firmament as it would be a new haven for the faithful and a temple to the purity of their Goddess, which would soon begin liberating the masses from the sinful philosophy of the Third Republic.

“I’d quite like to meet the man or woman that constructed your ship there,” came a gruff but familiar voice behind the Archprelate, “I’d like to find out why they thought venting the primary engine heat out through the same cooling pipes as the life support systems was a good idea. I’m surprised it didn’t fail on its first flight.”

Contispex turned around, his tall hat and dark robes silhouetting himself like some black spectre against the light from outside. The man walking in was a Human, dressed in a plain white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and with various grease and dirt stains dotted about the fabric. He was rubbing his hands with a ragged cloth, making a modest effort of cleaning the grime from his lightly tanned skin.

The man stopped a short distance from the Archprelate, finishing his wiping down to his level of satisfaction before raising his head. He was a middle-aged man with heavy eyebrows and strong features, smoothed only with the passage of time. His hair was a weathered peppery colour, swept back with seemingly the same grease that now lay on the cloth the man now shoved into a pocket.

“Needless to say, the only thing to do was isolate the two systems and create new, independent ventilation for the engines,” continued the newcomer, who spoke with the confidence of a man who did not need to prove his worthiness to enter the presence of a religious authority. His worth was self-evident in his actions and the only one who could ever sit in judgement of him was the Goddess herself.

“Grand is this day we live in,” Contispex XX said in the calm, soothing, and humbled tone of an old nerf-herding shepherd as he gazed out upon the great work of his closest and most devout faithful. “You, Jon Shurley, are tireless, strong, and blessed with boundless creative wisdom under the Gaze of our most infinite Goddess. It is as the prophetess Kumara once said: ‘How glides thy winged vessel if not for the hands of She that sows the wind? How cuts thy sword upon thine foe if not for the divine inspiration in one’s heart that carries the edge to the mark? How purposeful the house if lacking the presence of life, love, and faith? Grant me a day, fair Lady of Judgment, and I shall build for thee a roof to shield thy crown from the falling heavens. Grant me a lifetime, and I shall lay thee a foundation of devout souls from which hope blooms eternal. For verily I speak unto the ears of Her children: know thy place in this life, and you shall be blessed upon the day of the Great Reverence. For there is no edifice in all the land which stands taller than the faith of they who believe in the one true Divine.’”

“As you told me on the day we met: ‘We are all mere vessels, placed here to act out Her divine plans.’” Shurley fixed a determined gaze upon the older man, whom he had known for almost ten years after the Archprelate had recognised his anonymous devotion to the Pius Dea values before he himself knew the way.

He had been a maintenance worker for a passenger freighter Contispex was travelling on. Despite Jon’s brilliant mechanical proficiency, he had struggled to advance beyond the most menial roles, given his disinterest in short-changing his clients for his own personal gain, or for the gain of his employers. He was often said to be an expensive man to keep employed and a difficult man to work with, given his almost ruthless precision in his work. However, Contispex had observed the man’s tireless and devoted work to maintain a ship that others would have given up for scrap decades ago and recognised the hole in his existence; the entity for whom his labour was truly directed: his Goddess.

He had offered him a place within the Nea Glarist movement almost immediately. He had given him complete freedom over the development and maintenance of all the religion’s assets. Shurley could keep his own hours and hire whomever he felt would be necessary to his work. The only thing Contispex had insisted on was that Jon study the scriptures and immerse himself in the sermons. It did not take long before that hole in his life was filled and he had begun labouring, not for the work’s own sake, but for the grace of the Goddess.

“I find fulfilment in performing these tasks for Her grace,” Shurley confirmed his stance, as he had many times before, “Anyone who feels Her will, knows that my work is not an act of charity or of personal triumph. It is just the way it should be done. Anything less is an insult to everything we have been granted in this life or will be granted.”

"There is much work to be done," the Archprelate said with an approving nod to Jon's words. He turned his gaze back out towards the Cathedral of the Firmament and added with a sweeping gesture of his hands spreading out. "All of this is merely the beginning. As you know, my friend, the Goddess sees the truth in all things, and in her generosity, has shared a disturbing sight with me. The flow of the Fulmin Vitus* is shifting in a troubling direction. Terrible omens will appear in the years to come. Many will be lost to hopelessness and violence, and a great darkness threatens to obscure Her vision forever. I believe this is a warning that the Republic must forever be smitten for the good of all. If only their Jedi could be made to bend the knee beneath the Glare, then they may yet prove worthy of redemption. If they refuse, then it falls to us, the disciples of the one true faith, to do what must be done."

Shurley joined Contispex, looking down at the ship his own hands had resurrected and revitalised as the man beside him had restored his own faith, “Before I met you, I had resigned myself to the belief that men could not be changed, that the Republic had softened the spirits of the masses so that they no longer reached their full potential. One half cheats and swindles their brothers and sisters, while the other half is too lazy to resist or advance themselves.”

He smirked, an expression that did not come easily to Jon, but one he found himself breaking into more and more as he observed the progress of the Nea Glarists, “But you are showing more and more people that they too can be the Goddess’ chosen and enact Her will. Senator Polt Rakhesh and his supporters on Ord Yutani have embraced us and those remaining who still cast their eyes from the truth will soon be convinced by our blockade. Without the Republic, they will find strength from the Goddess to provide for themselves, just as we have.”

"Indeed," the pontiff affirmed. "And when their Republic is no more, a time of lawlessness with descend upon the masses, and there will be chaos. As they suffer, they will fight, and they will know the fullness of life through battle, the bringer of death. Hands will reach skyward, begging for salvation as the Goddess' immaculate domain soars above, ever watchful, and all-powerful. That is when a man will come forth to guide them." The Contispex placed his hand on Jon's shoulder and gazed proudly with his old steely eyes at him. "You shall be the vanguard, Jon Shurley. The people will look to you; the builder, the architect, the one whose calloused hands, sweat, and blood blessed by divinity ushered in the dawn of a new age. And when all the peoples of all the worlds gather and believe, the Goddess shall descend to embrace Her children, and we shall finally have peace eternal."

“I trust in your vision, my friend.” Jon scrunched up his face slightly and scratched idly at his chin, knowing he ought to shave soon, “I never wanted to bring about chaos, but if it forces sentients to construct a better Galaxy bathed in Her divine light, then I will be content. Until then, I will stay by your side in whatever capacity you see fit to allow me.”

"The people shall not suffer for long," Contispex assured him. "But for those that dare call themselves the leaders of this galaxy, well...I fear they shall know a terrible and most enduring retribution. Come, let us gather the faithful. Let us rejoice in hymn and fellowship under the loving eyes of our great Mother of All."

Shurley turned to look at Contispex, taking in the measure of the man who had brought him, and many others, to this turning point in Galactic history. He was proud to stand shoulder to shoulder with such a great Human who, like himself, did not measure his actions against what others thought he should do, but by the value of the actions themselves and the weight they had upon the Galaxy and towards the Goddess’ divine goals. Through their actions on Ord Yutani, they would force the hand of the Third Republic and reveal the corroded and blasphemous core of its philosophy.

“Of course,” Jon’s voice betrayed just a hint of satisfaction, though his face had dropped back into its usual stony complexion, “Perhaps you would take this moment of triumph to bless our new Cathedral by conducting your first sermon in its hallowed hall?”

The creases in the pontiff's weathered face deepened with the widest, most joyful smile he had offered to anyone in a good long while.

"You read my mind," Contispex said with an approving nod. "There is no greater privilege. I believe a humble reading of Adinorr chapter three shall honour the occasion most adequately."

TBC

 

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