Opera imperialis

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An Opera

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/47597039/

THE PIRATES OF THE EXPANSE

OR

THE LOST SON OF SCINTILLA

Written by: S. W. Garfunkel

Composed by: Archer O’Sullivan

First (and only) Performance at the Grand and Most Excellent Opera of Sibelius 854 M.41

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE

THE ARCH-TRAITOR
SAMUEL (his Lieutenant)
FREDERIC (a Traitor Indentured)
RUTH (a Maid of all Work)
SCRIBE
GUARDSMAN
PRIEST
MABEL
EDITH
(Seneschal Stanley’s Daughters) KATE and ISABEL
SENESCHAL STANLEY BROWN
TECH-ADEPT BUTTERCUP
CAPTAIN COROCAN (Rogue Trader, of the Nevermore)
IGNATIUS IRON-EYE (Able Voidsman)
LORD HIGH ADMIRAL JOSEPH (Ruler of the Fleet)
MEPHISTOPHELIA (Daemon of the Pit)
ARBITES PROCTOR

Chorus of Traitors, Mabel’s Entourage and Sisters, Crew of the Nevermore, Entourage of Sir Joseph’s Relations, Arbites

THE ARCH-TRAITOR - bass-baritone
SAMUEL (his Lieutenant) - baritone
FREDERIC (a Traitor Indentured) - tenor
RUTH (a Maid of all Work)
SCRIBE - comic tenor
GUARDSMAN - comic baritone
PRIEST - comic bass
MABEL - soprano
EDITH (Seneschal Stanley’s Daughters) KATE and ISABEL - mezzo-soprano
SENESCHAL STANLEY BROWN - comic baritone
TECH-ADEPT BUTTECUP - vox-enhanced contralto
CAPTAIN COROCAN (Rogue Trader, of the Nevermore) - baritone
IGNATIUS IRON-EYE (Able Voidsman) - bass-baritone
LORD HIGH ADMIRAL JOSEPH (Ruler of the Fleet) - comic baritone
MEPHISTOPHELIA (Daemon of the Pit) - soprano
ARBITES PROCTOR - bass

ACT I

The Market of Footfall Orbital

ACT II

Bridge of the Nevermore

ACT III

Chapel of the Nevermore

ACT IV

Bridge of the Nevermore

ACT I

SCENE. – The bustling market of Footfall Orbital. Traders divers show their wares, but flee as the TRAITORS approach. SAMUEL, the Traitor Lieutenant, leads the band at first. FREDERIC enters last, in a despondent attitude.

OPENING CHORUS.

ALL. Pour, oh, pour the Traitor grog;
Fill, O fill the Traitor glass;
We whom once the nobles flog’d,
Let the trait’rous bumper pass.

SAM. For today our Traitor ’prentice
Rises from indenture freed;
Strong his arm, and keen his thoughts:
He’s a Traitor now indeed!

ALL. Here’s good luck to Frederic’s ventures!
Frederic’s out of his indentures.

SAM. Two and twenty, now he’s rising,
And alone he’s fit to fly,
Which we’re bent on signalizing
With unusual revelry.

ALL. Here’s good luck to Frederic’s ventures!
Frederic’s out of his indentures.
Pour, O pour the Traitor grog, etc.

FREDERIC rises and comes forward with THE ARCH-TRAITOR, who enters.

ARCH. Yes, Frederic, from to-day you rank as a full-blown member of our band.
ALL. Hurrah!
FRED. My friends, I thank you all, from my heart, for your kindly wishes. Would that I could repay them as they deserve!
ARCH. What do you mean?
FRED. To-day I am out of my indentures, and to-day I leave you for ever.
ARCH. But this is quite unaccountable; a keener hand at scuttling a transport or raiding a colony never shipped with us afore.
FRED. Yes, I have done my best for you. And why? It was my duty under my indentures, and I am the slave of duty. As a child I was regularly apprenticed to your band. It was through an error -- no matter, the mistake was ours, not yours, and I was in honour bound by it.
SAM. An error? What error?
FRED. I may not tell you; it would reflect upon my well-loved Ruth.

RUTH rises and comes forward.

RUTH. Nay, dear master, my mind has long been gnawed by the cankering tooth of mystery. Better have it out at once.

SONG – RUTH.

RUTH.When Frederic was a little lad he proved so brave and daring,
His father thought he’d ’prentice him to some career void-faring.

I was, alas! his nurserymaid, his father my provider
I took and bound this promising boy apprentice to a Trader –
A life not bad for a hardy lad, though surely no crusader,
Though I’m a nurse, you might do worse than make your boy a Trader.

I was a stupid nurserymaid, on breakers always steering,
And I did not catch the word aright, through being hard of hearing;

Mistaking my instructions, which within my brain did prate-er,
I took and bound this promising boy apprentice to a Traitor.
A sad mistake it was to make; there’s never been one greater.
I bound him to a Traitor – you – instead of to a Trader.

I soon found out, beyond all doubt, the scope of this disaster,
But I hadn’t the face to return to my place, and break it to my master.
A nurserymaid is not afraid of what you people call work,
So I made up my mind to go as a kind of Traitorous maid-of-all-work.
And that is how you find me now, a piratical ship-raider
Which you wouldn’t have found had he been bound apprentice to a Trader.

RUTH. Oh, pardon! Frederic, pardon! (kneels)
FRED. Rise, sweet one, I have long pardoned you.
RUTH. (rises) The two words were so much alike!
FRED. They were. They still are, though years have rolled over their heads. But this afternoon my obligation ceases. Individually, I love you all with affection unspeakable; but, collectively, I look upon you with a disgust that amounts to absolute detestation. Oh! pity me, my beloved friends, for I love the Imperium and Imperial ideals with all my heart, and must reject your heretical ways henceforth!
ALL. Poor lad – poor lad! (All weep.)
ARCH. Well, Frederic, if you conscientiously feel that it is your duty to return to the Imperial fold, we cannot blame you for acting on that conviction. Always act in accordance with the dictates of your conscience, my boy, and chance the consequences.
SAM. Besides, we can offer you but little temptation to remain with us. We don’t seem to make heresy pay. I’m sure I don’t know why, but we don’t.
FRED. I know why, but, alas! I mustn’t tell you; it wouldn’t be right.
ARCH. Why not, my boy? It’s only half-past eleven, and you are one of us until the clock strikes twelve.
SAM. True, and until then you are bound to protect our interests.
ALL. Hear, hear!

FRED. Well, then, it is my duty, as a Traitor, to tell you that you are too tender-hearted. For instance, you make a point of never attacking a weaker party than yourselves, and when you attack a stronger party you invariably get thrashed.
ARCH. There is some truth in that.
FRED. Additionally, you respect all beliefs, and will never kill a loyal Imperial servant despite his opinions differing from yours.
ARCH. Yes, yes, I have always held that a man is bound by his beliefs, right or not, and should not be punished by them.
FRED. Then, again, you make a point of never molesting an orphan!
SAM. Of course: we are orphans ourselves, and know what it is.
FRED. Yes, but it has got about, and what is the consequence? Every one we capture says he’s an orphan. The last three ships we took proved to be manned entirely by orphans, and so we had to let them go. One would think that the Imperium’s mercantile fleet was recruited solely from her orphan asylums – which we know is not the case.
SAM. But they were all orphans, for they told me so themselves!
FRED. What, all of them?
SAM. Yes, all of them!
FRED. All ninety thousand of them?
SAM. Well nearly all of them!
ARCH. But, hang it all! you wouldn’t have us absolutely merciless?
FRED. There’s my difficulty; until twelve o’clock I would, after twelve I wouldn’t. Was ever a man placed in so delicate a situation?
ARCH. Well, it’s the top of the tide, and we must be off. Farewell, Frederic, and though from this day forth you may bow and scrape to He on Terra, hold always in your heart a shard of traitorous allegiance and rebellion.
FRED. I will! By the love I have for you, I swear it! Would that you could render this conflict of ideals unnecessary by converting, and living a blameless life of an Imperial servant!
ARCH. No, Frederic, it cannot be. I don’t think much of our profession, but, contrasted with respectability, it is comparatively honest. No, Frederic, I shall live and die a Traitor High.

SONG – THE ARCH-TRAITOR.

ARCH. Oh, better far to live and die
Under the brave black flag I fly,
Than play a sanctimonious part,
With a Traitor head and a Traitor heart.
Among Mankind I am assured,
All Traitors all quite well obscured;
But I’ll be true to the flag I fly,
And live and die a Traitor High.
For I am a Traitor High!
I cannot tell a lie, a lie
I am a Traitor High!
For I am a Traitor High!
ALL. You are!
Hurrah for the Traitor High!
ARCH. I cannot tell a lie, a lie
I am a Traitor High!
ALL. He is!
Hurrah for the Traitor High!

ARCH. When I sally forth to seek my prey
I help myself in a noble way.
I burn a few more ships, it’s true,
Than a well-bred pirate ought to do;
But many a lord on a first-class throne,
If he wants to call his fief his own,
Must manage somehow to get through
More dirty work than ever I do,
For I am a Traitor High!
I cannot tell a lie, a lie
I am a Traitor High!
For I am a Traitor High!
ALL. You are!
Hurrah for the Traitor High!
ARCH. I cannot tell a lie, a lie
I am a Traitor High!
ALL. He is!
Hurrah for the Traitor High!

Exeunt all except FREDERIC. Enter RUTH.

RUTH. Oh, take me with you! I cannot live if I am left behind.
FRED. Ruth, dear Ruth, I leave to seek my fortune alone. For Footfall is most wondrous strange: far different from life aboard the Traitor vessel. Why, what’s this?

Forward SCRIBE.

SCRIBE. Afternoon, sir, mad’m. New to Footfall, I see?
FRED. Yes, yes. We have just arrived. Now...
SCRIBE. Well, may I see your papers then?
FRED. Papers? Hmm, this is a conundrum, for you see, I have no papers.
SCRIBE. No papers. No papers. Oh dear...

SONG – THE SCRIBE.

Ink spots on paper and whispers of abbots
Finely wrought forms and the comfort of habits
Brown ink and red ink and cherubs with wings
These are a few of my favourite things

But you two are new here and our fine traditions
Give me some leeway for new acquisitions
For a mere fifty thrones you can be on your way
And I’ll leave the paperwork in disarray.

FRED. But sir, that is all the money I have! (He Holds Out His Purse.)
SCRIBE. No matter! (Snatches Purse.) On your way then!

Retreat SCRIBE, forward GUARDSMAN.

GUARD. Afternoon, sir, mad’m. New to Footfall, I see?
FRED. ...Perhaps...
GUARD. Well, have you registered for the Draft?
FRED. The Draft? Oh no, I don’t want to serve in the Guard!
GUARD. What’s that? You seem to be lacking Imperial spirit, maggot. Now, if you don’t want to be drafted, the Guard requires a donation. Those look like a fine set of pistols on your belt, whot...

SONG – THE GUARDSMAN.

The crash of the cannons and rattle of sabres
Suicide missions and sniping at neighbours
Lasguns and foxholes and living like kings
These are a few of my favourite things

But you two are new here and our fine traditions
Give me some leeway for new acquisitions
I’ll take those pistols and you can go free
We couldn’t use your type in the infantry.

FRED. But sir, these pistols are mine! (He Holds His Pistols.)
GUARD. There’s the Guard’s pistol’s now, boy. (Snatches Pistols.) Now get out of my sight, maggots!

Retreat GUARDSMAN, forward PRIEST.

PRIEST. Afternoon, noble sir, kind mad’m. New to Footfall, I see?
FRED. Lived here all my life, in fact.
PRIEST. Well, surely you can spare something for the poor of Footfall. We have so many poor here, and the station is so very cold. Your fine coat and boots, for example, would make a poor waif very happy on a cold nightcycle. (Weeps Gently.)

SONG – THE PRIEST.

(Intoned)

Burning the incense and beating the children
Taking confession and cursing at women
Drinking, carousing, and multiple flings
These are a few of my favourite things

But you two fine people don’t know my traditions
Give me some leeway for new acquisitions
Hand over the coat and the boots and the socks
Or I will be forced to kick you in the rocks

FRED. (Wincing.) That’s not particularly honourable. (Hand Over Coat, Boots, and Socks)
PRIEST. The Emperor thanks you. The poor will thank you. (Takes Clothing in Arms)

Retreat PRIEST.

LAMENT –FREDERIC

When the Scribe comes
When the Guard calls
When the Priest feels sad
I’ll run away rather than give them my pay
For they’ve taken all I had.

FRED. They have taken all I had, Ruth. My coins, my coat, my weapons... But I still have you, Ruth. Dear, gentle Ruth.
RUTH. I’m afraid not. For you see, now that you have none of the accoutrements on which my safety and livelihood depended, I see no reason to keep your company further, and quit it forthwith. Goodbye, dear Frederic.
FRED. Goodbye, gentle Ruth.

Exit RUTH.

FRED. Alas, I am now truly alone in a strange and harsh place. Robbed of all I might call mine own; adrift on a sea of troubles. But what’s this? What strange and noisome party draws near? A bevy of young noblewomen!

RECIT. – FREDERIC.

What shall I do? Before these gentle maidens
I dare not show in this most revealing costume!
No, no, I must remain in close concealment
Until I can appear in decent clothing!

(Hides behind a stall as the Girls approach.)

GIRLS. Walking now on peasant decking,
Skipping rivulets of filth,
Servants our eyes will avoid
By the ever-rolling void,
Swollen with a fetid meal;
Our stance and grace amazes
One who long upon it gazes,
Overlook the wretched massed,
Walk we hardy little lasses,
Till man’s affection and respect we steal!

EDITH. Let us gaily tread the measure,
Make the most of fleeting leisure,
Hail it as a true ally,
Though it perish by-and-by.

GIRLS. Hail it as a true ally,
Though it perish by-and-by.

EDITH. Every moment brings a treasure
Of its own especial pleasure;
Though the moments quickly die,
Greet them gaily as they fly.

KATE. Far away from toil and care,
Revelling in the long-stale air,
Here we live and reign alone
In a world that’s all our own.
Here, in this unpleasant den,
Far away from noblemen,
We’ll be lords, and make decrees –
They may honour them who please.

ALL. Let us gaily tread the measure, etc.
KATE. What fresh hell is this? Edith, you promised a diverting walk, not a tour of the rotting underbelly of Footfall.
EDITH. I did? But I thought you were navigating! Oh dear...
ISABEL. And where is Papa? Remember, he is not as young as we are, and we came over a rather difficult terrain.
KATE. But how thoroughly delightful it is to be so entirely alone! Why, in all probability we are the first upright beings who ever set foot on this area of the station.
ISABEL. Except the mutants – it’s the very place for mutants.
KATE. Who aren’t human beings at all, really.
EDITH. And who can’t be said strictly to set foot anywhere. Tails and tentacles they may, but feet they have but rarely.
KATE. But what shall we do until Papa and the servants arrive with the luncheon?
EDITH. Perhaps we should recite Imperial hymns at the top of our lungs?
ALL. Yes, yes! The very thing!
EDITH. While nude!
ALL. Huzzah! While nude!

They prepare to carry out the suggestion. They have all taken off one shoe, when FREDERIC comes forward from his concealed position.

FRED. (recitative) Stop, ladies, pray!
GIRLS. (Hopping on one foot.) A man!
FRED. I had intended
Not to intrude myself upon your notice
In this dishevelled and alarming costume;
But under these peculiar circumstances,
It is my bounden duty to inform you
That your proceedings will not be unwitnessed!
EDITH. But who are you, sir? Speak! (All hopping.)
FRED. I am a Traitor!
GIRLS. (recoiling, hopping) A Traitor! Horror!
FRED. Ladies, do not shun me!
This evening I renounce my vile profession;
And, to that end, O pure and peerless maidens!
Oh, blushing buds of ever-blooming beauty!
I, sore at heart, implore your kind assistance.
EDITH. How pitiful his tale!
KATE. How rare his beauty!
GIRLS. How pitiful his tale! How rare his beauty!

SONG – FREDERIC.

FRED. Oh, is there not one maiden breast Which does not feel the moral beauty Of making worldly interest Subordinate to sense of duty? Who would not give up willingly All matrimonial ambition, To rescue such a one as I From his unfortunate position?

GIRLS. Alas! there’s not one maiden breast Which seems to feel the moral beauty Of making worldly interest Subordinate to sense of duty!

FRED. Oh, is there not one maiden here Whose homely face and bad complexion Have caused all hope to disappear Of ever winning man’s affection? To such an one, if such there be, I swear by all the Saints above you, If you will cast your eyes on me, However plain you be – I’ll love you!

GIRLS. Alas! there’s not one maiden here Whose homely face and bad complexion Have caused all hope to disappear Of ever winning man’s affection!

FRED. (in despair) Not one? GIRLS. No, no – not one! FRED. Not one? GIRLS. No, no!

MABEL enters.

MABEL. Yes, one! GIRLS. ’Tis Mabel! MABEL. Yes, ’tis Mabel!

RECITATIVE – MABEL.

Oh, sisters, deaf to pity’s name, For shame! It’s true that he has gone astray, But pray Is that a reason good and true Why you Should all be deaf to pity’s name?

GIRLS. (aside) The question is, had he not been A thing of beauty, Would she be swayed by quite as keen A sense of duty?

MABEL. For shame, for shame, for shame!

SONG – MABEL.

MABEL. Poor wandering one! Though thou hast surely strayed, Take heart of grace, Thy steps retrace, Poor wandering one! Poor wandering one! If such poor love as mine Can help thee find True peace of mind – Why, take it, it is thine! Take heart, fair days will shine; Take any heart – take mine!

GIRLS. Take heart; no danger lowers; Take any heart-but ours!

Exeunt MABEL and FREDERIC. EDITH beckons her sisters, who form a semicircle around her.

EDITH. What ought we to do, Gentle sisters, say? Propriety, we know, Says we ought to stay; While sympathy exclaims, “Free them from your tether – Play at other games – Leave them here together.”

KATE. Her case may, any day, Be yours, my dear, or mine. Let her play away While the sun doth shine. Let us compromise (Our hearts are not bionics): Let us shut our eyes, And talk of economics.

GIRLS. Yes, yes, let’s talk of economics.

CHATTERING CHORUS.

The ship has grain in good supply, The stocks are rising very high, Continue fine I hope it may, And yet they fell but yesterday. Tomorrow they may fall again (I hear the station wants some grain), Yet people say, I know not why, That stocks of grain will go awry.

Enter MABEL and FREDERIC.

During MABEL’s solo the Girls continue chatter pianissimo, but listening eagerly all the time.

SOLO – MABEL.

Did ever maiden wake From dream of homely duty, To see her morals break For such exceeding beauty? Did ever maiden close Her eyes on waking sadness, To dream of such exceeding gladness?

FRED. Ah, yes! ah, yes! this is exceeding gladness! GIRLS. The ship has grain in good supply, etc.

SOLO – FREDERIC.

During this, Girls continue their chatter pianissimo as before, but listening intently all the time.

Did ever Traitor roll His soul in guilty dreaming, And wake to find that soul With peace and virtue beaming?

ENSEMBLE.

MABEL. FREDERIC. GIRLS. Did ever maiden wake --- Did ever Traitor loathed --- The ship has grain, etc. From dream of homely duty --- Forsake his hideous mission To find her daylight break --- To find himself betrothed With such exceeding beauty! --- To a lady of position!

RECITATIVE – FREDERIC.

Stay, we must not lose our senses; Men who stick at no offences Will anon be here! Treachery their dreadful trade is; Pray you, get you hence, young ladies, While the coast is clear!

FREDERIC and MABEL retire.

GIRLS. No, we must not lose our senses, If they stick at no offences We should not be here! Treachery their dreadful trade is – Nice companions for young ladies! Let us disappear.

During this chorus the Traitors have entered stealthily, and formed in a semicircle behind the Girls. As the Girls move to go off, each Pirate seizes a Girl. ARCH. seizes EDITH and ISABEL, SAMUEL seizes KATE.

GIRLS. Too late! TRAITORS. Ha, ha! GIRLS. Too late! TRAITORS. Ho, ho! Ha, ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho, ho!

ENSEMBLE.

(Traitors pass in front of Girls.) (Girls pass in front of Traitors.) TRAITORS-----GIRLS.

Here’s a first-rate opportunity ----- We have missed our opportunity To get married with impunity, -----Of escaping with impunity; And indulge in the felicity -----So farewell to the felicity Of unbounded domesticity. -----Of our maiden domesticity! You shall quickly be parsonified, ----- We shall quickly be parsonified, Conjugally matrimonified, -----Conjugally matrimonified, By a master of divinity, -----By a master of divinity, Who is located in this vicinity. -----Who is located in this vicinity.

ALL. By a master of divinity Who resides in this vicinity, By a master, a master, a master, Of master, of divinity.

The PRIEST has entered unnoticed . He is wearing FREDERIC’s coat and boots.

PRIEST. Did someone call? ALL. You! PRIEST. Aye, me. ARCH. Sir, I have need of your services, for I and my... friends all wish to enter matrimonial bliss posthaste! PRIEST. Have you... payment? ARCH. Coin as good as any, in plentiful supply. PRIEST. Well, I see no reason that this union should not proceed. Oh, but we need a witness!

The GUARDSMAN has entered unnoticed . He is wearing FREDERIC’s pistols.

GUARD. I’ll serve as good as any, if there’s coin involved. For I have seen more terrible things than this unhallowed union. But where shall I sign?

The SCRIBE has entered unnoticed . He tosses FREDERIC’s purse from hand to hand.

SCRIBE. As a master of records and works papirical, I can provide. A few coins to cover my ink and parchment is all I ask for my trouble.

ARCH. Then it is settled. Proceed, priest.

ECITATIVE – MABEL

(coming forward)

Hold, monsters! Ere your trait’rous legions Proceed, against our will, to wed us all, Just bear in mind that we are Wards of the Emperor, And father is a famous Seneschal!

SAM. (cowed) We’d better pause, or danger may befall, Their father is a famous Seneschal.

GIRLS. Yes, yes; he is a famous Seneschal!

The SENESCHAL has entered unnoticed.

SEN. Yes, yes, I am a famous Seneschal! SAM. For he is a famous Seneschal! ALL. He is! Hurrah for the Seneschal! SEN. And it is, it is a glorious thing To be a Seneschal! ALL. It is! Hurrah for the Seneschal!

SONG – SENESCHAL

SEN. I am the very model of a modern Trader's Seneschal. I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral. I know the price of produce and I quote the fights historical From Cadia to Damocles in order categorical. I am very well equated too with matters most heretical I understand the Eldar both the Craftworld and piratical. About the Inquisition I am teeming with a lot of news... With many cheerful facts about their acolytes and retinues!

ALL. With many cheerful facts, etc.

SEN. I am very good at spotting fakes or any sign of treachery My constant kind restraint conceals signs of my master’s lechery In short in matters animal, vegetable or mineral. I am the very model of a modern Trader's Seneschal!

ALL. In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral, He is the very model of a modern Trader's Seneschal!

SEN. I know Imperial histr’y from St. Drusus to Macharius I unravel diplomacy on matters most precarious I quote Sebastian Thor on the matters of divinity And can recite all his sermons with unrivalled magnanimity I can curse in seven languages with all manner of vulgarities And steal from orphans and the poor and perishable charities. At auction I can value what a man has never seen afore And doing so sing praises of his holiness, Saint Malcador!

ALL. And doing so sing praises, etc.

SEN. Then I can write a datascript in Necron circuit-cuneiform And tell you every detail of my master’s finest uniform. In short in matters animal, vegetable or mineral. I am the very model of a modern Trader's Seneschal!

ALL. In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral, He is the very model of a modern Trader's Seneschal!

SEN. In fact, when I know what is meant by “Harridan” and “Hierophant”, When I can tell at sight a Nurglish Death-Bloom from a potted plant, When such affairs as surprises and sorties I’m more wary at, When I return to speaking terms with all the Commissariat, When I learn what progress has been lost in plasma gunnery When I can do a week without accusal of a felony In short, when I’ve a smattering of elemental strategy... You’ll say a better Seneschal has never fought in zero-G!

ALL. You’ll say a better Seneschal, etc.

SEN. For my military knowledge, though I’m dutifully and erudite Is lacking both a tutor and any form of formal oversight. But still in matters animal, vegetable or mineral. I am the very model of a modern Trader's Seneschal!

ALL. But still, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral, He is the very model of a modern Trader's Seneschal!

SEN. And now that I’ve introduced myself, I should like to have some idea of what’s going on. KATE. Oh, Papa – we – SAM. Permit me, I’ll explain in two words: we propose to marry your daughters. SEN. Dear me! GIRLS. Against our wills, Papa – against our wills! SEN. Oh, but you mustn’t do that! May I ask – this is a picturesque uniform, but I’m not familiar with it. What are you? ARCH. We are all single gentlemen. SEN. Yes, I gathered that – Anything else? ARCH. No, nothing else. EDITH. Papa, don’t believe them; they are Traitors – the famous Pirates of the Expanse! SEN. Pirates of the Expanse! I have often heard of them. MABEL. All except this gentleman – (indicating FREDERIC) – who was a Traitor once, but who is out of his indentures to day, and who means to lead a blameless life evermore. SEN. But wait a bit. I object to Traitors as sons-in-law. ARCH. We object to Trader's Seneschals s as fathers-in-law. But we waive that point. We do not press it. We look over it. SEN. (aside) Hah! an idea! (aloud) And do you mean to say that you would deliberately rob me of these, the sole remaining props of my old age, and leave me to go through the remainder of my life unfriended, unprotected, and alone? ARCH. Well, yes, that’s the idea. SEN. Tell me, have you ever known what it is to be an orphan? TRAITORS. (disgusted) Oh, dash it all! ARCH. Here we are again!

SEN. I ask you, have you ever known what it is to be an orphan? ARCH. Often! SEN. Yes, orphan. Have you ever known what it is to be one? ARCH. I say, often. ALL. (disgusted) Often, often, often. (Turning away) SEN. I don’t think we quite understand one another. I ask you, have you ever known what it is to be an orphan, and you say “orphan”. As I understand you, you are merely repeating the word “orphan” to show that you understand me. ARCH. I didn’t repeat the word often. SEN. Pardon me, you did indeed. ARCH. I only repeated it once. SEN. True, but you repeated it. ARCH. But not often. SEN. Stop! I think I see where we are getting confused. When you said “orphan”, did you mean “orphan” – a person who has lost his parents, or “often”, frequently? ARCH. Ah! I beg pardon – I see what you mean – frequently. SEN. Ah! you said "often", frequently. ARCH. No, only once. SEN. (irritated) Exactly – you said “often”, frequently, only once.

FINALE – ACT I

SEN. Oh, men of dark and dismal fate, Forgo your cruel employ, Have pity on my lonely state, I am an orphan boy! ARCH and SAM. An orphan boy? SEN. An orphan boy! TRAITORS. How sad, an orphan boy.

SEN. These children whom you see Are all that I can call my own! TRAITORS. Poor fellow! SEN. Take them away from me, And I shall be indeed alone. TRAITORS. Poor fellow! SEN. If pity you can feel, Leave me my sole remaining joy – See, at your feet they kneel; Your hearts you cannot steel Against the sad, sad tale of the lonely orphan boy! TRAITORS. (sobbing) Poor fellow! See at our feet they kneel; Our hearts we cannot steel Against the sad, sad tale of the lonely orphan boy! ARCH and SAM. The orphan boy! See at our feet they kneel, etc.

ARCH. You may go, for you’re at liberty, our noble rules protect you, And honorary members of our band we do elect you!

SAM. For he is an orphan boy! CHORUS. He is! Hurrah for the orphan boy! SEN. And it sometimes is a useful thing To be an orphan boy. CHORUS. It is! Hurrah for the orphan boy!

SEN. And, you, unhappy former Traitor. I am not unmerciful either: you shall be given a berth aboard my master’s ship, the Nevermore, ‘ere the day is out. FRED. There was never a more pleasant proclamation made to me. I go, and I shall serve under the Imperial flag as faithfully as I served under a Traitor banner.

Girls and SENESCHAL go up rocks, while TRAITORS indulge in a wild dance of delight on stage. The SENESCHAL produces a flag emblazoned with the Aquila, and the ARCH-TRAITOR, produces a black flag with an eight-pointed star. Enter RUTH, who makes a final appeal to FREDERIC, who casts her from him.

END OF ACT I

ACT II

SCENE.–A classical frigate’s bridge. A view of a planet gently turning in the back. CREW of the Nevermore and FREDERIC discovered seated cleaning, polishing.

CHORUS – CREW

We sail the void so dark, And our captain’s ship's a beauty; We are set to make our mark, And to capture heathen booty. When we hunt through the void We are always employed And we stand to our guns all day; When at anchor we ride On the Scintillan tide, We have plenty of time to play.

TECH-ADEPT BUTTECUP enters.

RECITATIVE – TECH-ADEPT BUTTECUP.

Hail, fleshy crewmen, look to your station. See the Machines aren’t given undue privation; Miracles of design and cunning artifice Should not be so abused as this.

ARIA

I’m Tech-Adept Buttercup, named Adept Buttercup, Though I could never tell why, But still I'm called Buttercup — metallic Buttercup, Worker of miracles I!

I've knowledge mechanical and precepts fanatical I've bionic limbs filled with knives; I'll cut you to laces and carve off your faces It’s unlikely you will survive.

I speak fluent binary; don’t even try-nary To work the machines without me; I speak with their spirits, you’re dishevelled misfits, Compared to a bright bourgeoisie.

So placate your Buttercup —Tech-Adept Buttercup; I have informed you all why; Sing praises of Buttercup — Tech-Adept Buttercup; Mistress Mechanicus High!

FRED. Tech-Adept, we all respect your skill and dread proficiency. CREW. Aye! TECH. Your reverence is most logical, fleshy one. I recall well the weakness of flesh: the endless stumbling and mistakes which haunt my memory-circuits still, like a drill-bit boring at the immortal soul. Do you, fleshy one, experience similar emotional disturbances? FRED. No, Tech-Adept, I can’t say I do.

Enter IGNATIUS IRON-EYE. He pushes through sailors, and comes down.

IGNT. I have though on such matters often! (All recoil.) TECH. Your appearance would indicate as such. What ails this flesh-unit? He appears in poor repair. FRED. Take no heed of him; it’s only Ignatius Iron-Eye. IGNT. Terrible name, isn’t it – Ignatius Iron-Eye? TECH. It is unnecessarily convoluted for such a minor unit as yourself. IGNT. And I’m ugly too, ain’t I? TECH. One flesh-unit looks much like another, but your upper dermal layers are most effluvient and discoloured. IGNT. And I’m three-cornered too, ain’t I? TECH. (Examines him for a moment.)You do appear to have three primary vertices situated roughly in a horizontal plane; an unusual arrangement indeed. FRED. Well we wouldn't go for to hurt any fellow-creature's feelings, but you can't expect a chap with such a name as Ignatius Iron-Eye to be a popular character? IGNT. No. FRED. It's asking too much, isn't it? IGNT. It is. From such a face and form as mine the noblest sentiments sound like the black utterances of a depraved imagination. It is human nature — I am resigned.

TECH. (Examines FREDERIC now.) Fleshy crewman, what is your designation? CREW. That’s Frederic, just Frederic; he who was once a Traitor but has now returned to the warm and comforting bosom of the Imperium. TECH. That designation prompts further investigation. CREW. (aside.) And he loves, but he loves far above his station.

BALLAD — FRED.

A maiden fair to see, The pearl of minstrelsy, A bud of blushing beauty; For whom proud nobles sigh, And with each other vie To do her menial's duty. ALL. To do her menial's duty.

A suitor, lowly born, With hopeless passion torn, And poor beyond denying, Has dared for her to pine At whose exalted shrine A world of wealth is sighing. ALL. A world of wealth is sighing.

Unlearned he in aught Save that which love has taught (For love had been his tutor); Oh, pity, pity me— A Seneshal’s daughter she, And I that lowly suitor! ALL. And he that former Traitor!

IGNT. Ah, my poor lad, you've climbed too high: the Trader’s Seneschal’s child won't have nothin' to say to a poor chap like you. Will she, lads? CREW. No, no. IGNT. No, Seneschal’s daughters don’t marry mere ratings, no matter the circumstance. CREW. (recoiling from FREDERIC.) Shame, shame. FRED. But it's a strange anomaly, that the daughter of a man who hails from the spire may not love another whose ancestors slaved in the underdecks. For a man is but a man, whether he be from Holy Terra or the lowest bilge. TECH. Most logical: all men of flesh are roughly equivalent. CREW. But look, our gallant Captain comes on deck, with his worthy peers. Let us greet them as so noble of gentlemen deserve.

Enter CAPTAIN COROCAN, followed shortly by the SENESCHAL, sorrowfully

RECITATIVE — CAPT. and CREW

CAPT. My gallant crew, good morning. ALL. (saluting). Sir, good morning! CAPT. I hope you're all quite well. ALL. (as before). Quite well; and you, sir? CAPT. I am in reasonable health, and happy To meet you all once more. ALL. (as before). You do us proud, sir!

RECITATIVE – TECH-ADEPT BUTTECUP and CAPTAIN

TECH. Sir, you exhibit the weakness of emotion. Some form of saline liquid is excreted from your eyes Perhaps your mind is inflamed with fluid! Confide in me — fear not — I am a surgeon!

CAPT. No, dread Buttercup, I'm sad and sorry— My good friend, Seneschal Brown has a daughter The fairest flower that ever blossomed on ancestral timber, She is sought in marriage by Sir Joseph Porter, Our Admiralty's First Lord, but for some reason She does not seem to tackle kindly to it. Her hesitance leads my friend to melancholy And may spell disaster for all.

TECH. (pauses for a moment). Your problems are meaningless to me. I go. Farewell.

Exit TECH-ADEPT BUTTECUP

CAPT. (looking after her). A curious mechanical person is she. And yet...

Exit CAPTAIN, Enter MABEL, reading a data-slate

BALLAD — MABEL

Sorry her lot who loves too well, Heavy the heart that hopes but vainly, Sad are the sighs that own the spell, Uttered by eyes that speak too plainly; Heavy the sorrow that bows the head When love is alive and hope is dead!

Sad is the hour when sets the sun— Dark is the night to man’s poor daughters, When to the ark the wearied one Flies from the empty waste of waters! Heavy the sorrow that bows the head When love is alive and hope is dead!

Enter SENESCHAL, sorrowfully

SEN. My child, I grieve to see that you are a prey to melancholy. You should look your best to-day, for Lord High Admiral Joseph Porter will be here this afternoon to claim your promised hand. MABEL. Ah, father, your words cut me to the quick. I can esteem — revere — venerate Sir Joseph, for he is a great and noble man; but oh, I cannot love him! My heart is already given. SEN. (aside). It is then as I feared. (Aloud.) Given? And to whom? Not to some officer of the watch or gilded lordling? MABEL. No, father — the object of my love is no lordling. Oh, pity me, for he is but a humble voidsman aboard this very ship! SEN. Impossible! MABEL. But nonetheless true. SEN. A common voidsman? Oh fie! (aside) Still, I suppose there are worse objects for her affection to fall upon. MABEL. I blush for the weakness that allows me to cherish such a passion. I hate myself when I think of the depth to which I have stooped in permitting myself to think tenderly of one so very ignobly born, but I love him! I love him! I love him! (Weeps.) SEN. Ignobly born more so than other voidsmen? MABEL. Indeed, for he was raised from a babe amongst Traitors in the far Expanse. SEN. (aside) Horrors uncountable! My own daughter, enamoured of one so base and foul? No, it cannot be. (Aloud.) Come, my child, let us talk this over. In a matter of the heart I would not coerce my daughter — I attach but little value to rank or wealth, but the line must be drawn somewhere. A man of that upbringing may be brave and worthy, but at every step he would commit heresies that society would never pardon.

MABEL. Oh, I have thought of this shift after shift. But fear not, father, I have a heart, and therefore I love; but I am your daughter, and therefore I am proud. Though I carry my love with me to the tomb, he shall never, never receive the fruits of it. SEN. You are my daughter after all. (a ship draws nearer on the viewing panels, alarums sound quietly) But see, Sir Joseph's barge approaches, manned by trusty servants and accompanied by the admiring crowd of sisters, cousins, and aunts that attend him wherever he goes. Retire, my daughter, to your cabin — take this, his photograph, with you — it may help to bring you to a more reasonable frame of mind. MABEL. Thoughtful as always, father.

BARCAROLLE. (invisible) SIR JOSEPH'S ENTOURAGE OF RELATIONS

Over the darkest space Comes the Lord High Joseph, full of grace Wherever he may go Bang-bang the macrocannons go! Shout o'er darkest space For the Lord High Joseph, full of grace

During this the CREW have entered on tiptoe, listening attentively

CHORUS – CREW

Sir Joseph's barge is seen, And its crowd of blushing beauties, We hope he'll find us clean, And attentive to our duties. We sail, we sail the endless dark, And our saucy ship's a beauty. We're sober men of true remark And attentive to our duty. We're smart and very neat And quite devoid of fe-ar, In all the Trader’s fleet. None are so smart as we are.

Enter CAPTAIN, SENESCHAL

CAPT. Now give three cheers, I’ll lead the way ALL. Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurray!

Enter SIR JOSEPH and his RELATIONS

SONG — SIR JOSEPH

SIR JOSEPH. I say again, with no conceit I am the ruler of the Sector Fleet, Whose praise the Imperium loudly chants.

REL. And we are his sisters, and his cousins and his aunts! And we are his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

SIR JOSEPH. When at anchor here I ride, My bosom swells with pride, And I snap my fingers at a Eldar's taunts;

REL. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts! And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

SIR JOSEPH. But when through the warp we go, I make my way below, And seek the seclusion that a bolthole grants;

REL. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts! And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts! His sisters and his cousins, Whom he reckons up by dozens, And his aunts

SONG — SIR JOSEPH

When I was a lad I served without fault As office boy in a parchment vault. I cleaned the windows and I swept the floor, And I polished up the handle of the big front door. I made that handle so very neat That now I am the Ruler of the Sector Fleet!

ALL. He made that handle so very neat That now he is the Ruler of the Sector Fleet!

As office boy I gave a bribe That netted me the post of a junior scribe. I served the writs with a smile so bland, And I filled out my forms in a big round hand. And every form I filled complete, So that now I am the Ruler of the Sector Fleet!

ALL. And every form he filled complete, So that now he is the Ruler of the Sector Fleet!

In serving writs I made such a name That an articled scribe I soon became; With practice too I became quite astute At the pass examinations of the Institute, So many tests did I repeat That now I am the Ruler of the Sector Fleet!

ALL. So many tests did he repeat That now he is the Ruler of the Sector Fleet!

Of scholastic lore I acquired such a grip That I finally broke free of my indentureship. And that indentureship, I ween, Was the only ship that I ever had seen. With ignorance I was replete And now I am the Ruler of the Sector Fleet!

ALL. With ignorance he was replete And now he is the Ruler of the Sector Fleet!

I had such a minimal attention span That I was nominated as a Councilman I always voted at the nobles’ call, And I never thought of thinking for myself at all. I thought so little with a mind so indiscreet That they put me as the Ruler of the Sector Fleet!

ALL. He thought so little with a mind so indiscreet That they put him as the Ruler of the Sector Fleet!

Now servants all, whoever you may be, If you want to rise to the top of the tree, If your soul isn't fettered to an office stool, Be careful to be guided by this golden rule — Stick close to your desks and always drag your feet, And you all may be Rulers of the Sector Fleet!

ALL. Stick close to your desks always drag your feet, And you all may be Rulers of the Sector Fleet!

SIR JOSEPH. You've a remarkably fine crew, Captain Corcoran. CAPT. It is a fine crew, Sir Joseph. SIR JOSEPH. (examining a very young midshipman). A Imperial voidsman is a splendid fellow, Captain Corcoran. CAPT. A splendid fellow indeed, Sir Joseph. SIR JOSEPH. I hope you treat your crew kindly, Captain Corcoran. CAPT. Indeed I hope so, Sir Joseph. SIR JOSEPH. Never forget that they are the bulwarks of Imperial greatness, Captain Corcoran. CAPT. So I have always considered them, Sir Joseph. SIR JOSEPH. No bullying, I trust — no strong language of any kind, eh? CAPT. Oh, never, Sir Joseph. SIR JOSEPH. What, never? CAPT. Hardly ever, Sir Joseph. They are an excellent crew, and do their work thoroughly without it. SIR JOSEPH. Don't patronise them, sir — pray, don't patronise them. CAPT. Certainly not, Sir Joseph. SIR JOSEPH. That you are their captain is an accident of birth. I cannot permit these noble fellows to be patronised because an accident of birth has placed you above them and them below you.

CAPT. I am the last person to insult an Imperial rating, Sir Joseph. SIR JOSEPH. You are the last person who did, Captain Corcoran. Desire that splendid seaman to step forward.

IGNATIUS IRON-EYE steps forward

SIR JOSEPH. No, no, the other splendid voidsman. CAPT. Voidsman... Frederic, was it? Three paces to the front – march! SIR JOSEPH. (sternly) If what? CAPT. I beg your pardon — I don't think I understand you. SIR JOSEPH. If you please. CAPT. Oh, yes, of course. If you please. (FREDERIC steps forward.) SIR JOSEPH. You're a remarkably fine fellow. FRED. Yes, your grace. SIR JOSEPH. And a first-rate voidsman, I'll be bound FRED. Sir, I am but a few weeks at my station, though I do try. SIR JOSEPH. Can you dance a hornpipe? FRED. No, your grace SIR JOSEPH. That's a pity: all sailors should dance hornpipes. I will teach you one this evening, after dinner. Now tell me — don't be afraid — how does your captain treat you, eh? FRED. There’s not a better captain in the fleet, your grace. ALL. Aye; Aye! SIR JOSEPH. Good. I like to hear you speak well of your commanding officer; I daresay he don't deserve it, but still it does you credit. Can you sing? FRED. I can hum a few common tunes, your grace. SIR JOSEPH. Then hum this at your leisure. (Giving him loose music.) It is a song that I have composed for the use of the Imperial Navy, though it will suit this crew well too. It is designed to encourage independence of thought and action in the lower branches of the service, and to teach the principle that a Imperial sailor is any man's equal, excepting mine, of course. Now, Seneschal Brown, a word with you in your cabin, on a tender and sentimental subject. SEN. Aye, aye, Sir Joseph. (Crossing) CAPT. Boatswain, in commemoration of this joyous occasion, see that extra grog is served out to the ship's company at seven bells. BOAT. Beg pardon. If what, your honour? CAPT. If what? I don't think I understand you. BOAT. If you please, your honour. CAPT. What!

SIR JOSEPH. The gentleman is quite right. If you please. CAPT. (shuffles uneasily) SEN. (stamping his foot impatiently). If you please! SIR JOSEPH. For I hold with men like these The expression, "if you please", A particularly gentlemanly tone implants. REL. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts! And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

Exeunt SIR JOSEPH'S and his ENTOURAGE OF RELATIONS, CAPTAIN and SENESCHAL

BOAT. Ah! Sir Joseph's true gentleman; courteous and considerate to the very humblest. FRED. True, Boatswain, but we are not the very humblest. Sir Joseph has explained our true position to us. As he says, a Imperial servant is any man's equal excepting his, and if Sir Joseph says that, is it not our duty to believe him? CREW. Well spoke, well spoke! IGNT. You're on a wrong tack, and so is he. He means well, but he don't know. In the Grim Darkness of the Far Future, equality's out of the question. CREW. Horrible, horrible! BOAT. Ignatius Iron-Eye, if you go for to infuriate this here ship's company too far, I won't answer for being able to hold 'em in. I'm shocked! that's what I am — shocked! To deny the words of a gentleman as Sir Joseph is, well, it beggars belief! FRED. Men, my mind is made up. Mabel has expressed her love for me, and tonight I go to propose unto her. CREW. Aye, aye! FRED. Is not my love as good as another's? Is not my heart as true as another's? Have I not hands and eyes and ears and limbs like another? CREW. Aye, aye! FRED. It is true I lack birth... BOAT. You’ve a berth aboard this very ship. FRED. Well said — I had forgotten that. Messmates — what do you say? Do you approve my determination? CREW. We do! IGNT. I fething well don’t! BOAT. What is to be done with this here hopeless chap? Let us sing him the song that Sir Joseph has kindly composed for us. Perhaps it will bring this here miserable creation to a proper state of mind.

SONG — ALL, exempting IGNATIUS IRON-EYE

An Imper’l man is a soaring soul, As free as one can be, His energetic fist should be ready to resist A all signs of heresy. His nose should pant and his lip should curl, His cheeks should flame and his brow should furl, His bosom should heave and his heart should glow, And his fist be ever ready for a knock-down blow.

CHORUS. — His nose should pant, etc.

His eyes should flash with an inborn fire, His brow with scorn be wrung; He never should bow down to a domineering frown, Or the tang of a tyrant tongue. His foot should stamp and his throat should growl, His hair should twirl and his face should scowl; His eyes should flash and his breast protrude, And this should be his customary attitude — (pose).

CHORUS. — His foot should stamp, etc.

All dance off save for FREDERIC, who leans pensively against a console

Enter MABEL

MABEL. It is useless. Sir Joseph's attentions nauseate me. I know that he is a truly great and good man, for he told me so himself, but to me he seems tedious, fretful, and dictatorial. (Sees FREDERIC.) Frederic! Oh! (Overcome by emotion.) FRED. None other than your poor rescued Frederic. MABEL. (aside). How my heart beats! (Aloud) And why poor, Frederic? FRED. I am poor in the essence of happiness, lady, rich only in never-ending unrest. In me there meet a combination of antithetical elements which are at eternal war with one another. Driven hither by objective influences, thither by subjective emotions; wafted one moment into blazing day, by mocking hope, plunged the next into the darkness Infernal of tangible despair, I am but a living ganglion of irreconcilable antagonisms. I hope I make myself clear, lady?

MABEL. Perfectly. (aside.) His simple eloquence goes to my heart. Oh, if I dared — but no, the thought is madness! (Aloud.) Dismiss these foolish fancies, they torture you but needlessly. Come, make one effort. FRED. (aside). I will — one. (Aloud.) Mabel, my savior Mabel! MABEL. (indignantly). Sir! FRED. Even though the Emperor’s wrath and all the weapons of Mars were launched at the head of the audacious mortal whose lips, unhallowed by relationship, dared to breathe that precious word, yet would I breathe it once, and then perchance be silent evermore. Mabel, in one brief breath I will concentrate the hopes, the doubts, the anxious fears of three weary weeks. Mabel, I am a former Traitor, now a voidsman of low rank, and I love you!

MABEL. Audacity unparalleled! (aside.) Oh, my heart, my beating heart! (Aloud.) This unwarrantable presumption on the part of a common voidsman! (Aside.) Common! oh, the irony of the word! (Crossing, aloud.) Oh, sir, you forget the disparity in our ranks and births. FRED. I forget nothing, haughty lady. I love you desperately, my life is oncemore in your hands – I lay it at your feet! Give me hope, and what I lack in education and polite accomplishments, that I will endeavour to acquire. Drive me to despair, and in death alone I shall look for consolation. I am proud and cannot stoop to implore. I have spoken and I wait your word. MABEL. You shall not wait long. Your proffered love I haughtily reject. Go, sir, and learn to cast your eyes on some underhive wench in your own poor rank — they should be lowered before a Seneschal’s daughter.

DUET -- MABEL and FREDERIC

MABEL. Refrain, servant bizarre, Your suit from pressing, Remember what you are, And whom addressing! (Aside.) I'd laugh my rank to scorn In union holy, Were he more highly born Or I more lowly! FRED. Proud lady, have your way, Unfeeling beauty! You speak and I obey, It is my duty! I am the lowest ranked That sails the darkness, And you are flanked By unsurpassed brightness! (Aside.) My heart with anguish torn Bows down before her, She laughs my love to scorn, Yet I adore her!

Repeat refrain, ensemble, then exit MABEL

DUET – IGNATIUS IRON-EYE and FREDERIC

FRED. Can I survive this overbearing Or live a life of mad despairing, My proffered love despised, rejected? No, no, it's not to be expected!

From this day forth I will not rest Until I well conclude my quest An officer of rank I’ll be Before she consents to marry me

IGNATIUS IRON-EYE enters unseen

IGNT. She spurns your suit? Oho! Oho! I told you so, I told you so.

FRED. Shall I submit? Are am I a slave? Love comes alike to high and low— Imperial servants true and brave, Shall I now stoop to insult? No!

IGNT. You must submit, you are a slave; A lady she! Oho! Oho! You lowly servant must behave, She spurns you now — I told you so!

ALL. But...

FRED.----- IGNT.

An Imper’l man is a soaring soul ----- An Imper’l man is a captive soul As free as one can be,----- Who never will be free, His energetic fist----- His energetic fist Should be ready to resist -----Should be ready to resist All signs of heresy.----- A new-found Traitor’s plea.

ALL. His nose should pant and his lip should curl, His cheeks should flame and his brow should furl, His bosom should heave and his heart should glow, And his fist be ever ready for a knock-down blow.

both pose

END OF ACT II

ACT III

SCENE.–A deserted chapel by starlight. Gothic windows at back SENESCHAL STANLEY BROWN discovered seated pensively, in an attitude of prayer.

SOLO – SENESCHAL

Tormented with the anguish dread Of falsehood unatoned, I lay upon my sleepless bed, And tossed and turned and groaned. The man who finds his conscience ache Must grind his heart alone; And as I lay in bed awake, I thought “I must atone”.

And yet my prayer doubles despair; My mind is set aflame My daughter true, Loves someone who Has no title or name.

Enter LORD HIGH ADMIRAL JOSEPH, pensively

SOLO – LORD HIGH ADMIRAL JOSEPH

Tormented with unanswered love And flattery disdained, I filled my mind with thoughts whereof, My feelings half-explained The man who finds love tossed back Must grind his heart alone; And as I lay with mind so black, I thought “I must atone”.

And yet my prayer doubles despair; My mind is set aflame My betrothed true, Loves someone who None can presently name.

IGNATIUS IRON-EYE enters stealthily

IGNT. (Aside.) But there is one who can. SEN. You there! Ah, Sir Joseph! I did not see you come in. Are you troubled tonight as well? SIR JOSEPH. Yes, yes. I have spent hours conversing with your daughter, but she still is reluctant to give me firm commitment. The fact is, that although I have urged my suit with as much eloquence as is consistent with an official utterance, I have done so hitherto without success. How do you account for this? SEN. (aside.) What shall I say? (Aloud.) No, no. It is, perhaps, your exalted rank which keeps her from expressing the full extent of her emotions. IGNT. (revealing himself) Or perhaps not! SEN. You? IGNT. Aye, me. The hatred I bear for you, Seneschal Brown, is far less than that which I bear for your daughter’s lover. SIR JOSEPH. Me? IGNT. No, not you sir. SIR JOSEPH. I am relieved to hear it. But tell me, why do you say you hate the Seneschal. IGNT. It is because of him that I am bound to this thrice-cursed ship oncemore.

SONG – IGNATIUS IRON-EYE

When first I landed in Footfall boys, I went upon a spree, My hard earned cash was spent right fast, I got drunk as drunk could be, Before me money was all gone, or spent on some old whore, I made up me mind and was well inclined to go to warp no more.

ALL. No more, no more, To go to warp no more, He made up his mind and was well inclined to go to warp no more.

That night I spent with Sally Brown too drunk to roll in bed, Me clothes was new me, money was too: in the morn with them she fled. An feeling sick I left her bed and crawled along the floor. A man must be blind to make up his mind to go to warp once more.

ALL. Once more, once more, to go to warp once more, A man must be blind to make up his mind to go to warp once more.

And as I staggered down highway and lane I met Mr. Senschenal Brown. Well I asked him neat if he'd stand the treat; he looks me up and down. He said "The last time that yer was paid off, you chalked me up no score. But I'll give yes a chance and I'll take yer advance, and send yer to warp once more."

ALL. Once more, once more, I'll send you to warp once more, I'll give yes a chance and I'll take yer advance, and I'll send yer to warp once more."

They shipped me aboard of this thrice-cursed ship bound for uncharted Expanse. I was whipped to the bone and as cold as a stone and as I swabbied the Emperor’s lance. Though how I did fare with no void-rated gear, me money was lost to a whore, T'was then I swore that when I’s on shore I'd go to warp no more.

ALL. No more, no more, he’d go to warp no more, T'was then he swore that when he’s a shore he would go to warp no more.

(At each curse or lewd phrase, SIR JOSEPH covers his ears or gasps)

SIR JOSEPH. Really, sir. I have often been told that voidsmen are prone to profanity and lewd abuse of Low Gothic, but I put it down to supercilious rumour-mongering until today. You must learn to control your language! IGNT. You’d curse too if you had a face like mine. SIR JOSEPH. Quite possibly yes, but I don’t, and from this day forward I shall thank the Emperor daily for such a blessing. SEN. But you said you knew whom my daughter pines for, did you not, or was your sole purpose in coming here to sing randy songs in a holy place?

TRIO – IGNATIUS IRON-EYE, SIR JOSEPH, and the SENESCHAL

IGNT. My friends, I've important information, About what else you simply can infer; Regarding certain intimate relations, Sing hey, the merry maiden and the cur. ALL. The merry maiden and the cur.

SEN. Good fellow, in conundrums you are speaking, Sing hey, a mystic voidsman you are, sir; The answer to them vainly I am seeking; Sing hey, the merry maiden and the cur. ALL. The merry maiden and the cur.

IGNT. Admiral, your young lady is a-sighing, Sing hey, you surely must concur, For her attentions is poor Fredrick vying; Sing hey, the merry maiden and the cur. ALL. The merry maiden and the cur.

IGNT. Good fellow, you have given timely warning, Sing hey, the thoughtful voidsman that you are, I'll talk to Master Fredrick in the morning: Sing hey, call the Arbites on the cur!

The SENESCHAL produces a whistle

ALL. Call the Arbites on the cur!

Exit IGNATIUS IRON-EYE, laughing

Enter ARBITES marching in single file. They form in line, facing audience.

SONG – PROCTOR, with ARBITES.

When the Traitor bares his steel, Tarantara! tarantara! We uncomfortable feel, Tarantara! And we find the wisest thing, Tarantara! tarantara! Is to slap our chests and sing, Tarantara! For when threatened with emeutes, Tarantara! tarantara! And your heart is in your boots, Tarantara! There is nothing brings it round Like the trumpet’s martial sound, Like the trumpet’s martial sound ALL. Tarantara! tarantara!, etc.

SEN. Ah the Arbites! Proud Arbites! I have need of your particular services. PROCTOR. What crime has been committed? SEN. No, no crime yet, but I fear one is about to be committed. PROCTOR. Hmm? Treachery and conspiracy aboard? This cannot stand! SEN. Yes, my dear daughter... PROCTOR. Is a cultist, yes? Arbites, away! SEN. No, no, no. She is merely in love with... PROCTOR. A foul Xenos, yes? Arbites, away! SEN. Would you listen! She is in love with Frederic, a low-ranked voidsman... PROCTOR. Who is secretly a witch! SEN. No! PROCTOR. A mutant! SEN. No! PROCTOR. A heretic! SEN. No, no. He has, as far as I can tell, committed no crime whatsoever, save that he was once a Traitor. PROCTOR. Hmm. Could he be a Traitor still? SEN. I suppose it is possible. But we cannot be sure. I want you... PROCTOR. To arrest him and toss him into the void! SEN. No! SIR JOSEPH. Yes! SEN. No, sir. He must first be proven guilty of some crime, which is why I wish for you (points at the Arbites) to keep him under close and secretive observation. PROCTOR. We will. And the moment he shows any signs of deviancy or conspiracy... SIR JOSEPH. Arrest him and toss him into the void! ARBITES. Huzzah!

Exeunt SIR JOSEPH and the SENESCHAL

PROCTOR. Our course is clear. It is most distressing to us to be the agents whereby our erring fellow-creatures are deprived of that liberty which is so dear to us all – but we should have thought of that before we joined the force. ARBITES. We should! PROCTOR. It is too late now! ARBITES. It is!

SONG – PROCTOR.

PROCTOR. When a Traitor’s not engaged in his employment – ARBITES. His employment, PROCTOR. Or maturing his traitorous little plans – ARBITES. Little plans, PROCTOR. His capacity for innocent enjoyment – ARBITES. ’Cent enjoyment PROCTOR. Is just as great as any honest man’s – ARBITES. Honest man’s. PROCTOR. Our feelings we with difficulty smother – ARBITES. ’Culty smother PROCTOR. When constabulary duty’s to be done – ARBITES. To be done. PROCTOR. Ah, take one consideration with another – ARBITES. With another, PROCTOR. An Arbites’s lot is not a happy one. ARBITES. Ah, when constabulary duty’s to be done, to be done, An Arbites’s lot is not a happy one, happy one.

Exit ARBITES

Enter SIR JOSEPH momentarily, and with excessive caution

RECITATIVE – SIR JOSEPH

SIR JOSEPH. At last, alone. My brain still churns with the thought Of losing fair Mabel to such a cur! My exalted rank and wealth cannot persuade her And I fear I lack the eloquence needed to do aught

But yet, there is a path still open to me If I cannot convince her with means natural Perhaps a power unnatural can appeal Or produce more eloquent entreaty.

I have a book, given to me long ago, which contains dark and terrible secrets forgotten by mankind.

(draws book from pocket)

These black utterances here will, it is said, call forth a creature and bind it to my will. Thought I dread speaking them, my path is blocked on all other sides.

(he sprinkles a few powders, stamps in a circle, and makes complicated gestures)

SIR JOSEPH. (clears throat) Ni!

(crash of trumpets and general alarum: SIR JOSEPH staggers back )

DUET –SIR JOSEPH, and MEPHISTOPHELIA (MEPHISTOPHELIA rises slowly from centre stage, wreathed in vapours )

MEPHI. In the velvet darkness Of the blackest night Burning bright, there’s a guiding star, No matter what or who you are;

MEPHI. There’s a light BOTH. Over by the Cadian gate. MEPHI. There’s a light BOTH. Burning with unbounded hate. MEPHI. There’s a light BOTH. In the darkness of everybody’s life

SIR JOSEPH. Darkness must go down the river of night’s dreaming. Flow Morphia slow, let the dreaded light come streaming Into my life. Into my life.

MEPHI. There’s a light BOTH. Over by the Cadian gate. MEPHI. There’s a light BOTH. Burning with unbounded hate. MEPHI. There’s a light BOTH. In the darkness of everybody’s life.

MEPHI. Who calls Mephistophelia? SIR JOSEPH. (quiet coughing and spluttering ) MEPHI. Oh, it’s you, Sir Joseph, Lord High Admiral. I didn’t see you there. Well, stand up. Let’s have a look at you. SIR JOSEPH. Back, oh foul daemon! MEPHI. Now, that’s hardly polite. After all, you did call me. Still, if I must go... (she turns from him) SIR JOSEPH. No, wait, stay. MEPHI. If what? SIR JOSEPH. ...If... you please, oh foul daemon. MEPHI. That’s a bit better, I suppose.

RECITATIVE – SIR JOSEPH

Oh daemon of the blackest pit I charge thee
That thou shall do no harm to me
And indeed, shall produce posthaste
A marriage tween me and lady chaste.

MEPHI. Indeed, there is a change in store for you!

DUET — MEPHISTOPHELIA and SIR JOSEPH.

MEPHI. Things are seldom what they seem,

Madmen held in high esteem;
Traitors loyal to the end;
Servants master’s words do bend.

SIR JOSEPH. (puzzled). Very true,

So they do.

MEPHI. Mutants dwell in every hold;

All that glitters is not gold;
Tech-Priests emotions conceal;
Strangers often truths reveal.

SIR JOSEPH. (puzzled). Yes, I know.

That is so.
Though to catch your drift I'm striving,
It is shady — it is shady;
I don't see at what you're driving,
Warp-spawned lady — Warp-spawned lady.

(Aside.) Stern conviction's o'er me stealing,

That the Warp-spawned lady's dealing
In oracular revealing.

MEPHI. (aside). Stern conviction's o'er him stealing,

That this Warp-spawned lady's dealing
In oracular revealing.
Yes, I know—

That is so!

SIR JOSEPH. But enough of this dissembling. Mabel, eldest and fairest daughter of this vessel’s Seneschal, is betrothed to me and me alone. MEPHI. True, true. SIR JOSEPH. Yet she loves another, young Frederic, a voidsman of fair complexion and eloquent speech, whom, I fear, I cannot match, despite our difference in rank. MEPHI. Yes, yes. SIR JOSEPH. But I shall be married before the week is out nonetheless! You shall see to it, oh demon of the pit! MEPHI. I hear and I obey. It is an easy thing to manage. Before the week is out, you shall hear wedding bells ring. SIR JOSEPH. I am glad to hear it. I go now to make my preparations, and you, begin your hell-spawned plan. Oh Mabel, our match is certain now!

Exit SIR JOSEPH.

MEPHI. Though my actions may be circuitous, they will bring about his ordered end.

MEPHISTOPHELIA conceals herself in an alcove, out of sight

Enter FREDERIC

SONG – FREDERIC. (With passion)

Oh Emperor, oh pity me My heart is truly set upon A woman that I idolize Who rejects my proposition.

Without some skills I can’t begin To gain the ranks to ever equal her I despair my lot and curse my life For I am but a lovesick cur.

MEPHI. (concealed) The Emperor has heard your prayer And sends a wondrous device To win the one you idolize These gifted hands will soon suffice

(she appears in angelic garb, bearing two mechanical hands)

With these new hands you can complete Examinations to gain rank for her Your life will soon improve a hundredfold No more will be just a common cur.

FRED. I hear your words, angelic one I am relieved to see your charms. MEPHI. Exchange your hands for ones of steel And you will soon be in her arms.

The hands are exchanged, MEPHISTOPHELIA ascends upwards. Light streams through the chapel windows as the ship turns to face the sun

SOLO – FREDERIC.

Oh joy, oh rapture unforeseen, My troubled path is now serene, He on the Throne has shown his love Has hung his ensign high above, My heart is set ablaze.

With perfect hands and force of will, I’ll find my Mabel loves me still, And if I find the maiden coy, I’ll murmur forth decorous joy, In dreamy roundelay.

Exit FREDERIC

An alteration of the lighting. Chapel boys come forth and light candles, new linens are laid out, etc.

Enter CREW, CAPTAIN, SENESCHAL, SIR JOSEPH, SIR JOSEPH'S ENTOURAGE OF RELATIONS and ARBITES

CAPT. Now give three cheers, I’ll lead the way ALL. Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurray!

Enter FREDERIC, in an officer’s uniform, hands gloved

FRED. I humble, poor, and lowly born, The meanest in the port division— The butt of epauletted scorn— The mark of quarter deck derision— Have dared to raise my wormy eyes Above the dust to which you'd mould me In manhood's glorious pride to rise, I am Imperial— behold me!

ALL. He is Imperial!

CAPT. He is Imperial! For he himself has said it, And it's greatly to his credit, That he is Imperial!

ALL. That he is Imperial!

CAPT. For he might have been Chaotic, A dread pirate psychotic, Or perhaps a Malfian!

ALL. (making the sign of the Aquila) Or perhaps a Malfian!

CAPT. But in spite of all temptations He exceeds our expectations, And remains Imperial!

ALL. For in spite of all temptations He exceeds our expectations, And remains Imperial!

He remains Impe-e-e-e-e-e-rial!

CAPT. Voidsman, approach. (FREDERIC approaches and salutes) FRED. Sir! CAPT. Your work in the past week has been exceptional. From hymn-composition to file-location to needlework, all the hallmark skills of a true officer of the Fleet are present within you in abundance. I am proud to promote you to Officer of the Watch. ALL. Huzzah!

SEN. (aside, to the PROCTOR) And you have found no sign of deviance or corruption? PROCTOR. None at all, sir. In all the hours we have observed him, he has been both diligent, humble, and skilled. SEN. Well, it is possible that he shall marry Mabel after all. For I would not see her unhappily wed to Sir Joseph. Nonetheless, something does not sit right with me, and I would have you observe him further. ARBITES. We will!

CAPT. And now to the business of the day. Arbites! ARBITES. Sir! CAPT. I have heard reports of pirates in this sector. Be vigilant and at all times prepared for an influx of dread reavers bent on death, desecration, and dismemberment. Patrol the corridors and passageways well, Arbites, for they could be on us at any moment. ARBITES. Sir!

SONG – PROCTOR, with ARBITES.

REL. Go, ye heroes, go to glory, Though you die in combat gory, Ye shall live in song and story. Go to immortality! Go to death, and go to slaughter; Die, and every son and daughter With their tears your grave shall water. Go, ye heroes, go and die!

ALL. Go, ye heroes, go and die!

PROCTOR, with ARBITES.

Though to us it’s evident, Tarantara! tarantara! These attentions are well meant, Tarantara! Such expressions don’t appear, Tarantara! tarantara! Calculated men to cheer, Tarantara! Who are going to meet their fate In a highly nervous state. Tarantara! tarantara! tarantara! Still to us it’s evident These attentions are well meant. Tarantara! tarantara! tarantara!

PROCTOR. We observe too great a stress, On the risks that on us press, And of reference a lack To our chance of coming back. Still, perhaps it would be wise Not to harp or criticise, For it’s very evident These attentions are well meant.

ARBITES. Yes, it’s very evident These attentions are well meant, etc.

ENSEMBLE.

CHORUS OF ALL BUT ARBITES. ----- CHORUS OF ARBITES. Go ye heroes, go to glory, etc -----When the foeman bears his steel, etc.

CAPT. Away, away! ARBITES. (without moving) Yes, yes, we go. CAPT. These pirates slay. ARBITES. Tarantara! CAPT. Then do not stay. ARBITES. Tarantara! CAPT. Then why this delay? ARBITES. All right, we go. Yes, forward on the foe! CAPT. Yes, but you don’t go! ARBITES. We go, we go Yes, forward on the foe! CAPT. Yes, but you don’t go! ALL. At last they really go!

Exeunt All, in succession, FREDERIC last

END OF ACT III

ACT IV

SCENE.–A classical frigate’s bridge, deserted. Enter LORD HIGH ADMIRAL JOSEPH

RECITATIVE.

SIR JOSEPH. Oh, false one, you have deceived me! MEPHI. (Revealing herself with a flourish) I have deceived you? SIR JOSEPH. Yes, deceived me! (Denouncing her.)

DUET – SIR JOSEPH and MEPHIOPHELIA.

SIR JOSEPH. You told me you were duty bound! MEPHI. (calmly) And, master, am I not so? SIR JOSEPH. And now I see my hopes rebound. MEPHI. I’m not a one to plot so. SIR JOSEPH. Upon my innocence you play. MEPHI. I’m sure it’s not a jot so. SIR JOSEPH. Your cunning words lead me astray! MEPHI. Impossible to do so. SIR JOSEPH. Trait’rous demon, to deceive me,

I who trusted so!

MEPHI. Master, master, don’t desert me!

Hear me, ere you go!

My gifts without reflecting,
Oh, do not be rejecting!

SIR JOSEPH. And why not? I summon you, I bind you, and for what? My rival is newly promoted by your perfidious plotting, and is set to marry the object of my affection.

MEPHI. Faithless Admiral. You see but a short distance in front of you. My schemes will bring about your marriage, to be sure. I am bound by the chains of my summoning, and can no more rail against them than you can walk in the void unsuited. Admiral, you shall hear wedding bells soon enough!

SIR JOSEPH. I hold you to your word, demon. My patience is almost at an end.

Exit LORD HIGH ADMIRAL JOSEPH

MEPHI. He doubts the power of the Warp? Well, we shall see whose schemes are the more cunning.

Exit MEPHISTOPHELIA

Variously, enter the ENTOURAGE OF RELATIONS, who prepare as if for a wedding. Enter CAPTAIN, SENESCHAL, MABEL

SEN. Never mind the why and wherefore,

I have seen his skill therefore,
Though his ranks is rather lowly,
Quite unearthly is his skill,
Though your tastes are mean and flighty
He will his service here fulfil.

ALL. Ring the merry bells of marriage,

Rend the air with warbling wild,
To marry one of our own peerage
With a Seneschal’s own child!

SEN. For a Seneschal’s own daughter JOS. (scowling) For a Seneschal’s own daughter! SEN. And a valiant chart-plotter JOS. (aside). Who I’d dearly like to slaughter! ALL. Let the air with joy be laden,

Rend with songs the air above,
For the union of a maiden
With the man who owns her love!

SIR JOSEPH. I entreat you one more time, Seneschal Brown. Convince your daughter to abandon this foolish enterprise, and her ill-famed suitor. For never was one so lowly born as Fredric, ex-traitor.

MABEL. Sir, my betrothed’s past is beyond doubt abhorrent, but he has mended his way since, and in all ways is a perfect Imperial citizen. You yourself said that an “Imperial man is a soaring soul.” Well, Fredric’s soul soars most loftily.

SIR JOSEPH. Yes yes, but I did not mean quite so loftily as that! Seneschal Brown, a word.

All Else Exeunt

SIR JOSEPH. Have you found no sign of corruption upon Fredric? No secret vices? No deviant tendencies?

SEN. Nothing, save for one curious fact.

SIR JOSEPH. Tell me!

SEN. On many a lonely shift, or in hours of quiet contemplation, my servants inform my Fredric is shadowed by a brassy, noisome creature of flesh and metal, whose ocular protrusions constantly, silently, scan his form. Tech-Adept Buttercup is obsessed with him.

SIR JOSEPH. You don’t mean...?

SEN. Nothing of the sort. If the honoured Tech-Adept even has a heart, it would belong to the Deus Mechanicus, and not to some rating. But still, it is curious.

SIR JOSEPH. I will speak with her. Perhaps her gifts have spotted a heresy we have overlooked.

SEN. Hah! I overlook nothing!

Enter TRAITORS, creeping, quite loudly, from all sides

CHORUS – TRAITORS (very loud)

As Eldar tread,
Upon our prey we steal;
In silence dread,
Our cautious way we feel.
No sound at all,
We never speak a word,
A grot’s foot-fall
Would be distinctly heard –

SEN. Aha, aha! Nothing!

So stealthily the traitor creeps,
While all the voidship soundly sleeps.
Come, friends, who reave the void,
Truce to navigation;
Take another station;
Let’s vary heresy
With a little burglary!

SEN. Aha, aha! Nothing! Nothing!

Enter Proctor, running

RECITATIVE

PROCTOR. Honoured Sirs! I am sorry to insert myself into a private conference. But I have heard that Traitors have boarded our mighty vessel, and mean to do us grievous injury. SEN. But that is impossible! SIR JOSEPH. Yes, impossible! PROCTOR. Yet, I suspect the Traitors are close.

Chorus of Pirates, resumed while creeping nearer.

We are not coming for plate or gold –

A story Seneschal Stanley’s told – We seek a penalty fifty-fold,

For Seneschal Stanley’s story.

PROCTOR. They seek a penalty? TRAITORS. Fifty-fold!

We seek a penalty!

PROCTOR. Fifty-fold! ALL. They/We seek a penalty fifty-fold,

For Seneschal Stanley’s story.

SIR JOSEPH. (draws his sword and looks around) They come in force, I now can see,

Our obvious course is now – to flee

Exit SENESCHAL, SIR JOSEPH, PROCTOR, at speed

SONG — THE ARCH TRAITOR with CHORUS OF TRAITORS.

As some day it may happen that we put them to a rout,
I’ve got a little list – I’ve got a little list
Of Imperial defenders whom the stars could do without,
And who never would be missed – who never would be missed!

There’s the pious, chaste, and honest and the people of that sort.
The grasping greasy clerics who will constantly extort.
All citizens with head-tubes, and the Imperial Guard.
If I could only have my way they’d have it very hard.
And Sororitas who break your nose rather than be kissed.
They’d none of them be missed, they’d none of them be missed!

TRAITORS. He’s got them on the list, he’s got them on the list

And they’ll none of them be missed, they’ll none of them be missed.

There’s the holy-water-seller and others of his race,
And the pious organist – I’ve got him on the list!
All nobles who their cousins lovingly embrace
They never would be missed – they never would be missed!
The idiot who slanders in a vitriolic tone
All systems he distrusts and RPGs he doesn’t own
And those who cheat at card games with shuffling so sly
All men who “haven’t ‘done it’, but would rather like to try”

And that grey-bearded anomaly, a traditionalist!

I’m sure he’d not be missed, no they’d none of them be missed!

TRAITORS. He’s got them on the list, he’s got them on the list

And they’ll none of them be missed, they’ll none of them be missed.

There’s the people with pretentious names like “Drizzt” or “Scar” or “Robb” And the Russ apologist, I’ve got him on the list!

All double agents, triple agents, gangers, monks, and Nobs
They never would be missed, they never would be missed!
All people with high collars or huge pauldrons of all kinds
And Eldar with their wraithbone firmly wedged up their behinds
All half demented Tech-Priests who I all too often see
Inserting mechandentrites where they really shouldn’t be
And citizens who convince themselves to in the Guard enlist,
They’d none of them be missed, no they’d none of them be missed!

TRAITORS. You may put them on the list, you may put them on the list And they’ll none of them be missed, they’ll none of them be missed

(leering at FREDRIC) But most of all I loathe the fawning, lying hypocrite
A creature of two tendencies and very little wit
Whose practices and preaching are at odds for all to see
A Traitor and a Loyalist of such inconstancy
I care not where, but pick a side, I really must insist.
So I’ve put you on the list, I’ve put you on the list.

TRAITORS. He’s put you on the list, he’s put you on the list And you’ll sadly not be missed, you’ll sadly not be missed.

ARCH. Fredric, you have become a proper Imperial servant...

FRED. Thank you, it is kind of you to say so.

ARCH. In all aspects but one.

FRED. And what respect is that?

DUET – FRED and MABEL (posing, in chains, clumsily)

For my nose does pant --- For his nose does pant And my lip does curl --- And his lip does curl My cheeks do flame – His cheeks do flame And my brow does furl --- and his brow does furl My bosom does heave --- his bosom does heave And my heart is true --- and his heart is true And I’d rather not have anything to do with you – and he’d rather not have anything to do with you

ARCH. Be that as it may, you have committed a grave hypocrisy. And we cannot abide hypocrisy, can we?

TRAITORS: No, we cannot.

ARCH. For I am a Traitor High!

I cannot tell a lie, a lie 

TRAITORS. Hurrah for the Traitor High!

ARCH. You have consorted with the Empyric Powers, and gained favours...

ALL. Favours?

ARCH. Favours of the Warp!

FRED. (recoiling) No, that cannot be. As a proper Imperial citizen, I abhor such heresies with all my soul .

ARCH. Then how came you by those miraculous silver hands, those wonders of artifice, that carried you so swiftly to a high rank?

FRED. You mean?

ARCH. (nods)

FRED. No! Oh no, it cannot be!

Enter MEPHISTOPHELIA, in FLAMES. ALL are agast.

SONG – MEPHISTOPHILIA

Infernal fury blazes deep inside me! Death and destruction! Death and destruction must surround me!

Have thee betrayed 
My sacred orders?
My sacred orders?

Then you will be my champion nevermore! For if you betray me, I’ll help thee nevermore!

I’ll help thee nevermore!

Outcast be forever! Forsaken forever! A shattered soul forever! A creature without hope!

Now you must choose – your hands or your position. If! If! You dare to defy me You will die this very hour!

LAMENT – FREDRIC

Destiny has cheated me And forced me to decide upon The woman that I idolize Or the hands of an automaton!

Without these hands I can’t compete And gain a rank to ever equal her But if I lose the, I abandon her And I’ll be naught but a common cur.

FREDRIC collapses

ARCH. Now you see the fruits of hypocrisy. You professed to be a humble voidsman, but took the easy route to high rank. And now you’ll pay the price. There’s nothing for it.

FRED. Very well. (he thrusts his hands out). Take them, and begone!

MEPHI. (snatches them off) But wait! The hands I take, but there is a further price.

ALL. A further price?

MEPHI. Yes, a further price.

DUET – FREDRIC and MEPHISTOPHILIA

FRED. You told me you were from the Throne! MEPHI. (slyly) I never did mislead you FRED. Your true intent you left unknown MEPHI. I knew it wouldn’t please you FRED. Upon my innocence you play. MEPHI. I’m just the sort to plot so. SIR JOSEPH. And now a price I’ll surely pay! MEPHI. You really should have thought so. FRED. Trait’rous demon, to deceive me,

I who trusted so!

MEPHI. Foolish mortal, you amuse me.

I will swiftly go!

FRED. So, I am free?

MEPHI. Not in the slightest. For within one hour, I shall return and claim the soul of Fredric the Rating, Fredric the Traitor, Fredric the Fool!

ALL. (gasping)

MEPHI. In marriage!

Exit MEPHISTOPHILIA, in flames. All scatter into darkness.

The curtain rises. CAPTAIN COROCAN is seated, in chains, at one end of a long table, with the ARCH TRAITOR at the other. Along one side are FREDRIC (in chains), MABEL (in chains), the SENESCHAL (in chains, SIR JOSEPH (in chains) and the PROCTOR (completely covered in chains, with only his helmet showing).

TRIO

ARCH. --- FRED. --- SIR JOSEPH
My brain, it teems--- I’m truly doomed--- I must pretend---

With endless schemes--- I once assumed--- This scene will end--- Of riches great.--- The angels vied--- In peril dire--- Of boundless hate;--- To be my guide,--- But I conspire--- Hypocrisy,--- Now soon I fear--- The demon’s word-- Has driven me--- I’ll quit this sphere--- I softly heard--- To kill them all!--- As the prize pet,--- Says I’ll go free--- The Seneschal!--- Of a brunette.--- Undoubtedly.--- Will suffer first--- For Mabel’s charms--- If this is true,--- And suffer worst--- I’ve lost my arms,--- I’m sure to woo--- His orphanhood--- Or just their ends.--- Dear Mable’s heart--- Was base falsehood,--- My heart descends.--- Or other parts,--- And so,--- And so,--- And so,--- Although--- Although--- Although--- I’m ready to go,--- I fear to go,--- Both friend and foe--- Yet recollect--- And greatly pine--- Surround me here--- Dare I neglect--- To brightly shine,--- I have no fear--- The great effect?-- And take the line--- The demon’s spell--- This aim direct--- Of a hero fine,--- brings wedding bells--- Dare I object?--- With grief condign--- As time will tell.--- My hand is checked --- I am resigned --- I’ve made out well--- My hand is checked --- I am resigned --- I’ve made out well -- My hand is checked --- I am resigned --- I’ve made out well--- ALL. Now we sing in sorrow our sad refrain

Our lives likely linked by unlikely gain ,
Awaiting the arrival of one inhumane,
A creature from an evil immaterial plane.

Enter TECH-ADEPT BUTTERCUP

RECITATIVE

TECH. Hold! My crime I must confess! A black disgrace, what will you fleshbags think of next? You bid me tend to the ship’s engine-core But I once ran a Genetor’s ward.

SONG – TECH-ADEPT BUTTERCUP

TECH. A many years ago, I walked among humanity, Before I took red robes, I practised some gene-alchemy

ALL. Ah, such an abnormality

When she walked among humanity
She practiced lay gene-alchemy
A many years ago.

TECH. Two gene-fixed children grew

One was of poor construction
The other was enhanced
Through prionic induction!

ALL. (somewhat confused) Now this is our deduction;

One was of poor construction.
What’s prionic inductiom?
A many years ago.

TECH. The new-hatched babes

Were put into my care
Both alike – bright pink, no teeth, no hair
But one I knew was meant for higher status
I could read his genes by a cunning apparatus

ALL. She could read his genes! By a cunning apparatus!

TECH. I put each babe into an empty cask

To label them was my servitor’s one task
But the inkwell failed, and marked both label’s green
And I lost the babe with the enhanc-ed genes.

ALL. She lost the babe! With the enhanc-ed genes!

TECH. So even if I land in dire disgrace

I will now return the babes to their right place
For he who was meant rule the Sector Fleet
Has genes I fixed, and breeding most discreet.

ALL. Who has genes she fixed? And breeding most discreet?

TECH. You, fleshy one. (points at Fredric). You are Lord High Admiral Joseph.

ALL. (gasp)

SIR JOSEPH. No he’s not, you rust-brained heap of calamitous rubbish! I am Sir Joseph!

TECH. My gene-printing is infallible. You are not Sir Joseph.

SIR JOSEPH. Well then, dash it all, who am I?

TECH. You are Fredric.

ALL. (more gasping).

FRED. But, then that must mean...

Enter MEPHISTOPHILIA, in black wedding regalia, attending by the DAMNED, in suits and dresses. Bells peal.

MEPHI. My love! It’s time! Come, take my hand. (she skips over to Sir Joseph, whose chains fall away).

SIR JOSEPH. I protest! But this was not at all what I intended when I summoned you!

ALL. (yet more gasping. The PROCTOR shakes with rage)

ARCH. What! This is dire heresy, and from a noble peer of the Imperium such as yourself? Shameful, shameful.

ALL. (echoing) Shameful, shameful.

SIR JOSEPH. As if you haven’t done worse.

ARCH. Ah, but I am an Arch-Traitor. It is in my nature to do such things. But in you, a daemonic pact reeks of hypocrisy!

MEPHI. Oh shush, don’t insult my husband like that. Come on dear!

Exit MEPHISTOPHILIA, followed by SIR JOSEPH carried by the DAMNED

RECITATIVE

ARCH. Well, that ended most unusually. By rights, I should still slaughter you all. And yet, seeing such a man as Sir Joseph fall, I am inclined to spare the Seneschal.

FRED. My crimes must be pardoned too, for I did not know my nature. I behaved as a rating, when I should have behaved as a Lord High Admiral.

ARCH. Very true. In that case, I release you all. Captain Corocan, I beg your pardon, for I was only acting in accordance with my sense of duty.

CAPT. All is forgiven, for no one can act against their own nature.

All those chained are released, and embrace

OCTET - MABEL, SENESCHAL, FREDRIC, ARCH-TRAITOR, CAPTAIN COROCAN, TECH-ADEPT BUTTERCUP. MEPHISTOPHILIA and SIR JOSEPH from offstage

Oh joy, oh rapture unforeseen, Our troubled paths are now serene, He on the Throne has shown his love Has hung his ensign high above, Our hearts are set ablaze.

With more good faith and less ill will, We’ll build a cause Imperial, And if we spot a daemon’s snare, We’ll scatter it without a care In dreamy roundelay.

ARCH. For he's the Captain of the Nevermore. ALL. And a right good captain too! ARCH. Though I occupy your ship

I am loosening my grip
To let him retain his crew

ALL. Though he occupies the ship

He is loosening his grip
To let us retain our crew.

FRED. I shall marry with a wife,

In my noble rank of life! 
And you, my own, are she—

I must learn a mighty ask;

But wherever the Throne asks,
I shall never be untrue to thee!

ALL. What, never? FRED. No, never! ALL. What, never! FRED. Hardly ever! ALL. Hardly ever be untrue to thee.

Then give three cheers, and then repeat
For the newly minted Lordling of the Sector Fleet

TECH. I’m Tech-Adept Buttercup, named Adept Buttercup,

Though I could never tell why,
But still I'm called Buttercup — metallic Buttercup,
Worker of miracles I!

SIR JOSEPH. I say again as I retreat I did command the Sector Fleet, Whose praise the Imperium loudly chants. MEPHI. Say good-bye to your sisters, and your cousins, and your aunts,

Especially your cousins,
Whom I’ve eaten up by dozens,
His sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

ALL. For he is Imperial,

And he himself has said it,
And it's greatly to his credit
That he is an Imp-e-e-e-e-RI-AL!

CURTAIN