To Consecrate a Chariot

[The_Godslayer]

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Abdul walked the halls surrounding the engine room of the Typhoon Destroyer. Around him were brothers, sons, and even grandsons who desired nothing more than righteous war against Sirius. Whatever reason was truly in their hearts, Abdul and the men of the al-Sami family believed fully that the Military Commission had granted this to them because they had proven themselves, for faith was even stronger than steel.

A long held tradition of the descendants of Idrees al-Sami was that faith was a challenging of quantum mechanics. Many long debates had been had in the House of Wisdom, and competition to their line of thought had only strengthened it. They held that belief would change what one sees, and what one sees changes the result of the quantum superpositions that make up the reality we live in. Faith weights the dice of fate, and so the line of al-Sami is one of unshakable faith, Zealots in every meaning of the name.

To serve that very end, forty men with swords stood around the engine, singing a prayer of strength, of conquest, of war. These same forty men had been hard at work for the last forty days modifying the very same engine to closely match the engines used for the Mass-V's on the surface of Jiangxi. They had the duty to tune everything down to the very rumble of the engine to match the massive vehicles they called home.

The number forty was a number of trial for their people, of success against odds, of prophecy of hardship and righteous victory. At the age of forty, a man is considered wise. A trial of forty days is considered thorough. So, the forty youngest men and the ship itself had been tried for forty days, a rite of passage and a coming of age ceremony for the youths, and in this trial they had not been found wanting.

The song of prayer concluded, the echo of their voices filling the halls in their voice's absence. In unison, they held their swords at their sides, and then touched the tips of the blades to the engine. They awaited The Father Abdul's words.

"My sons! Before you is your Chariot. She shall serve you in the war against the tyrants of Sirius. You shall serve her in the war against the tyrants of Sirius. You will be sanctified in the war against the tyrants of Sirius. She shall be sanctified in the war against the tyrants of Sirius."

The gathered men retracted their swords, then sheathed them.

"My sons! About you is family! About you is strength! About you is duty! Before you is the struggle! Before you is fate! Before you is heaven, for to fall on the battlefield is to rise above!"

They saluted, the ruffle of their uniforms filling the hall. On that cue, the engine rumbled to life. It sounded like a Tempest, yes. But it also sounded like strength. It sounded like faith. It sounded like home.

It sounded like the Chariot of al-Sami.

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I'll do something about my superiority complex when I cease to be superior.

"Whatever happened to catchin' a good old-fashioned passionate ass-whoopin and gettin' your shoes, coat, and your hat tooken?"