Journal Entry #0001A
Waking up to the smell of ash, smoke, and fire was not on the agenda for that morning, to be quite honest. But that's how this all started, I suppose. TO be frank, none of this was on the non-existent life calendar I have, and, yet…here I am. And, since I have this nifty little journal now, I can start writing down everything that I've gotten into since that morning. So, let's begin, shall we?
For some reason, waking up felt very, very warm today, which was odd because it was winter. I blinked sleep out of my eyes as I awoke, yawning and stretching as I stared at the sky. That was my first clue that something was very, very wrong; I fell asleep in a dorm room, not under an open sky that was filling with black smoke. I blinked rapidly.
"Aight, what the hell?" I said aloud, groggy and confused. I have the tendency to talk to myself and the world when no one is around, which can be very odd when observed by any passersby. But nonetheless, I spoke to the unfamiliar world I woke up in, which was not the small Ohio town I went to college in. Instead, it looked like I awoke in some massive cathedral city, with numerous Notre Dame looking arches and designs. And it was on fire, with tracer rounds crisscrossing the dark sky, screams, and all manner of things that I should not be waking up to. A horrible thought came to mind as I surveyed the scene, it reminded me of something out of a sci-fi thing I had seen. "No way….no way I woke up in that." I reassured myself as I got to my feet. There was no way I was in THAT universe. But I couldn't shake the feeling that it was THAT universe. But I still moved, away from the odd debris pile I had awoken on into the streets that were strewn with rubble, litter, and corpses…not the most pleasant sight for waking eyes. I stepped slowly and cautiously into the street, scanning the Gothic buildings as I went. Among them were the corpses of soldiers, most likely the city guard or the police, arms and armor lying next to them. I was tempted to pick one up when an artillery round or a bomb went off behind him. Yelping, I sprinted away from the blast and down the street, diving into a somewhat intact house. And straight into the muzzle of five guns, all pointed at the door which I exploded through.
"Hold, xenos scum!" A female voice, probably around my age, cried.
"Easy there, lass, 'e's human." An older voice cautioned, and the five rifles lowered. Before me stood four men and one girl, all in military uniform with rifles and pistols. On their body armor and rifles was emblazoned an eagle, much like the Roman Aquila but also very, very similar to-
"NO, I'm not in THAT universe; there's no way!" I thought to myself as the leader of the five spoke to me.
"You alright lad, any injuries?" He asked. The man looked hard, tough, grizzled from war, but even through that there was an odd twinkle in his eyes.
"Uhh, I think I'm fine. Truth be told I woke up on a rubble pile a moment ago and I have no idea what's happening." I admitted.
"It'd be better if you didn't." Another man said, younger than the leader, almost as hardened, but with a note of bitterness in his voice.
"Aye, he'd be lucky if he hadn't woken up at all." The third spoke, with what seemed to be a Scottish accent. The girl and the fourth man turned away and went to windows, looking out and keeping watch.
"Well, he's awake now, and he'll have to live with it," The leader said, taking his rifle in one hand and extending the other to me, "Sergeant Mikal Aurelian, 13th Freeport Imperial Guard Regiment, 2nd Company."
"Ald…Ald Russman." I answered, giving one of names for a character I had invented instead of my real one. Why, I have no idea. "So, what is going on?"
"An Ork WAAAGH has descended upon this world, and its our job to evacuate the civilians before the Astartes arrive." Mikal explained.
"Do ya really thing the Space Marines can beat these green-skinned-bastards back?" The third man asked, going to the door and peering out.
"Orks, WAAAGH, Astartes, Space Marines, greenskins…oh no. No no no….no no no no no no!" As those terms all clicked in my mind, a phrase came to mind: In the grim darkness of the far future, there is only war. I was now in THAT universe: 40K, Warhammer 40 fucking K.
Journal Entry #0001B
So, if you're from the Warhammer 40K universe, you're probably wondering what the fresh hell I'm talking about. Here's the short of it: Your universe is not real in mine. It is a collection of games, digital and tabletop, books, and artwork. There is no Imperium in mine, only Earth, aka Holy Terra to you. If you're from my universe, you're probably wondering how the heck I go there. To be honest, I DON'T KNOW! All I know, is that I occasionally get jerked into universes like 40K, for example the universe of Bungie's game series, Destiny. That made up name? That was my name in that particular adventure. Most time I wasn't aware of what was going on, but not this time. I wish to Holy Terra I wasn't. But anyways, back to the beginning.
An hour after I met the team of Imperial Guardsmen, I was running and hiding in the streets of Freeport with them, laspistol in hand. The sergeant, Mikal Aurelian, explained that we were headed for the 13th Regiment's headquarters, where I could be shoved into a transport and sent someplace else in the Imperium. He also introduced me to his squad; the girl was Julia Akron, a private in the Guard, the second man was Galahad, the Scottish sounding one was Willy, and the fourth man was "Chatterbox", so named because he was mute. In the Imperial Guard…I didn't want to know how that worked. And it was still weird to think I was in the bloody Imperium of Man, the same one that was at war with everything and everyone and was still alive, and fighting somewhat well. And for some reason, at that moment, I wondered if Avoiding Stupid Deaths in the 41st Millennium was real here. That was a Warhammer 40K fanfic by a guy named erttheking where the author basically outlined the stupid deaths of Imperial Guardsmen that he had seen/heard of. Here's to hoping I don't end up in the book, but knowing me I'd probably be in the vicinity of one of them.
An explosion overhead shook me from my thoughts, forcing our pace to quicken. While we hadn't seen any Orks, we had heard them plenty; listening to them bicker over loot and who had killed the most. A couple of times we heard screams, cut off by the sharp bark of an Ork gun, followed by laughter from a Nob.
"Well, this certainly as grimdark as Games Workshop made it out to be." I thought as we ran, scrambling over debris and ducking through ruins. After a solid hour of dashing about, we were all tired, and Mikal noticed. As we entered a ruined house, he held up a hand.
"Break, ten minutes." He said. We all found somewhere to sit and plopped down into our spots. I rested my back against a cabinet, panting, feeling the sweat roll down my body. I hadn't even been here half a day and I was already on the run, with a band of strangers, away from green-skinned monsters who just want to fight and kill. What the fresh hell?
"Holding up alright?" Willy asked as he offered me a water canteen. I took it gratefully, not taking too much of the precious liquid.
"As best I can." I breathed, handing the canteen back.
"Aye; waking up in this mess, I'd have shot myself in five minutes." Willy said. "Though Julie over there nearly did it for ya!" Julia shot a hot glance at Willy before turning away. "Don't mind her; she's fresh from training and believes every word of the Uplifting Primer."
"The Uplifting Primer is not to be mocked!" Julia snapped. I promptly shut my mouth and let the two bicker. I leaned back on the cabinet and panicked as it began to fall over. Thankfully, it fell only a little way; falling into the wall a foot behind it, rattling the contents. One such content opened the door a small bit, revealing a gun barrel. Sergeant Mikal looked over at the noise and strode over.
"What do we have here, lad?" He asked, taking the barrel and pulling it gently from the cabinet. It was a gun, obviously, but I was more surprised by the fact that it looked like a blockier version of the US M-4 rifle from my time/universe. "Ah, an autogun, a Marius 400 model." I held back a laugh; the universe, mine or otherwise, liked to repeat itself in strange ways. "Not much use to us," he eyed me, "but…do you know how to shoot a rifle." I nodded. "Well, I see no reason why you can't prove yourself."
"Is that wise, sergeant?" Julia asked. "He is untested, and seemingly came from nowhere."
"Are you suggesting, private, that this young man is born of the Warp?" Sergeant Mikal asked, with heavy emphasis on Julia's rank.
"I am only suggesting caution, sergeant, nothing more." Julia said. I couldn't tell if she didn't like just based on suspicion, principle, or because she was just a bitch. Maybe a combo of all of the above.
"I admire your logic, Private Akron, but I have seen and felt the Warp, Chaos and what it was wrought. This young man is not of the Great Enemy." Mikal said, handing me the M-400. It was essentially the same as the M-4, as I said, just blockier. The charging handle was in the same annoying place, at the rear, the forward assist was still there, but it was slightly heavier. Mikal rummaged in the cabinet and drew out a bandolier with six magazines of ammo, handing them to me. "Now, lad, do you-" He stopped as he watched me load the rifle. It was memory, really: pull the magazine from the pouch, slide it into the mag well, pull back the charging handle, let it slam forward, check the firing chamber, make sure it's on safe. The men were impressed, Julia glared daggers at me.
"Hm, impressive." Galahad said, nodding approvingly.
"We'll make a Guardsmen of you yet, boy." Willy said, standing and stretching.
"Let's hope he is not tested too harshly." Mikal said. "On your feet, we move!" A moment later and we were out again, dashing through the rubble and ruin of Freeport. Ten minutes into our run, and a voice called out to us.
"Oh huuuuuummies!" A deep, gruff voice…sang to us? Behind us, ten Ork Boyz dropped from a rooftop, all wielding some form of choppa. "Where'z ya goin'? Don'tcha wanna hav' sum fun?"
"Run!" Mikal barked, and we all went from a jog to a sprint. The Orks let loose a hearty laugh and gave chase, raising their choppas and roaring with joy. It was as if they were on a fox hunt, and the prey was within their grasp. However, humans put to flight against a superior foe are not only fast, but clever. Chatterbox ran at the rear of the group, not quite giving his full speed. As I wondered why he was not sprinting his ass off, he pulled the pin on a frag grenade and slipped it behind some rubble. Two Orks ran past the rubble pile as the grenade exploded, shredding them to bits. Eight to six, the odds were turning. Galahad was bolder, dashing up into a ruin before raining fire down on the advancing Orks. Seven to six. But then six more Ork Boyz joined the chase, forcing us to abandon any hope of fighting. We were all tired at this point, and afraid of the Orks, fearful of their greater numbers. And then we turned a corner, into a dead end. It was a small courtyard of an office space with rubble piled high all around. The only way out was back the way we had come or to blow through the rubble. And we did not have the firepower to do either. "Set up, quickly! You, Ald, stay with me!" The sergeant ordered. I hastily followed, like a lost lamb to the shepherd. The other four Guardsmen settled into defensive positions, reading themselves for what we believed to be their last fight. "I'm sorry lad."
"For what?" I asked.
"You woke up in the most Emperor-forsaken conditions possible, and I may as well have led you to your death." Mikal said, lining up the sights on his lasgun on the courtyard gate. I did as well, clicking the M-400 from safe to auto. And then they came, the Orks charging with choppas raised, screaming and roaring. Laser and bullet filed the air as the greenskins charged through the gate, keen on taking our heads. They fell as the ran through, soaking up our ammo as we fired. The rate of fire on the M-400 was faster than that of the lasguns, allowing me to reload and continue firing while the others reloaded. But it wouldn't be enough, as the Guardsmen fell back into a half circle near the back wall of the courtyard, the Orks continued through, having brought more of their friends. In my universe, I am a firm believer that there is a God who created Earth and all there is to it, and I know full well that the Emperor of Man was a man of logic and reason rather than religion. (Spoiler alert for the 40K universe). But still in my mind, I prayed.
"Emperor, help us." I said in my mind. And then I heard the sound.
"RAHHHHHHHH!" Came a roar. A shadow passed over us, the Orks halted before the shadow's owner, my jaw hit the floor, drilled through it, and went straight to Freeport's core. For landing before me, in green power armor, holding a Bolt Pistol and a Chainsword, was an Adeptus Astartes, an Avenging Angel of the Emperor. A Space Marine. "DIE GREENSKINS!" He bellowed as he leveled his pistol and emptied the magazine into the gang of Orks before him. One came from the side, choppa raised, but the Chainsword was cutting through it as the Astartes dropped the pistol and went about his bloody business.
"Guardsmen, for the Emperor!" Sergeant Mikal cried, raising his lasgun and firing into the Orks. I raised my M-400 and fired as well, joining the Guardsmen as we, mainly the Space Marine, forced the Orks back. When the courtyard was cleared, not a single Ork remained, leaving the humans and the Space Marine.
"Well fought, Guardsmen." The Space Marine said, retrieving his Bolt Pistol and turning to us. I got a look at him and realized, from my albeit limited experience with Astartes chapters, that this was a Salamander. I breathed a sigh of relief; green power armor could mean them or the Dark Angels…and I hadn't heard great things about them.
"Thank you, milord." Sergeant Mikal said gratefully as the Space Marine leveled his gaze…at me. Why?
"You are no Guardsmen," he noted, approaching me, "are you a member of the local PDF?"
"Uhh, no, my lord…truth be told I woke up on a debris pile only a couple of hours ago, with no idea how I got here." I admitted.
"Truly? You are bold, young one. What is your name?"
"Ald Russman, my lord."
"Well then, Ald Russman, the Emperor may have use for you in the Imperial Guard." The Space Marine said. "I am Battle Brother Alexios of the Salamanders, 4th Company, we are here to aid you, Guardsmen."
"Sergeant Mikal Aurelian, 13th Freeport Imperial Guard Regiment, 2nd Company, milord. We thank you for your timely rescue." Mikal introduced. The Space Marine turned his head.
"You may not thank me for this news, Guardsman; your regiment has been wiped out by the Greenskins." Alexios said grimly. I felt a pang of sympathy for the five Guardsmen, who all had varying degrees of shock, anger, and sadness on their faces. "You have my deepest sympathy."
"Thank you, milord, but it will do us no good if we cannot evacuate." Mikal said, resolve in his voice.
"Agreed! Take heart Guardsmen, for you fight with the Salamanders today!" Alexios encouraged, sheathing his pistol and sword and drawing a Bolter. "Come, Guardsmen, there are Orks to kill!"
Meeting Alexios was one of the defining moments of my first decade in the 40K universe. Yeah, I spent a long-ass time in the 40K universe. I'm honestly surprised I'm not in therapy for all the different lives I've lived in. Sybil ain't got shit on me with her personalities, I've lived DECADES in universes THAT ARE FICTICIOUS! What the hell is my life at this point? Anyways, the squad and I were able to get off world pretty quickly thanks to the arrival of the Salamanders. During that time, Mikal was able to pull some shenanigans to make me apart his regiment and company before the Administratum wrote off the 13th as combat-ineffective, keeping me with them and putting me through informal training in the Imperial Guard. Within a year, they deemed me fit to fight as a Guardsman, wherever the Imperium of Man needed us. Which was, blessedly, nowhere at the moment. The Administratum had trillions of other things to do so, rather than worrying about us, they stuck us on a world and left us there.
Said world was a place, aptly named Earned Respite. This world was in the realm of Ultramar, the home of the Ultramarines, and as such was relatively safe from the threats that plagued the Imperium. It had been set up by some noble ages ago as a R&R world for the Imperial Guard, specifically survivors such as my squad from shattered regiments; a place to rest, refit, and await new orders in relative peace. And this, this is where the real adventure began for me.
Entry #0001C
It had been a year since we'd arrived on Earned Respite; six months of those I'd been drilled, trained, and instructed in the ways of an Imperial Guardsman, and the other six months, utterly nothing. It was alright though, I spent the majority of that time reading my eyes off, learning as much as I could about the state of the galaxy. And it looked about normal; death and destruction on most fronts, xenos or heretics everywhere, minor rebellions almost everywhere else. The rest of that time I was drilling myself, doing my best to prepare myself for whatever I was going to fight. Julia was with me, drilling her ass off with me to prepare. While she still didn't fully trust me, mainly because of her suspicious of the Warp, she was willing to work with me. We were always under someone's watch, sometimes it was the wise-cracking Willy, the silent Chatterbox, the stern Galahad, or the firm yet patient Sergeant Mikal. Each had their own tips and tricks of the trade, but they all contributed to our development. And the Uplifting Primer…yeah, that's a bloody joke right there. Emperor save the Imperium if anyone actually believes that crap…damn it. Speaking of books, I had actually found Avoiding Stupid Deaths in the 41st Millennium! And holy crap did I see a few stupid things on Earned Respite, let me tell you. Anyways, to the main story.
Towards the end of the year I spent on Earned Respite, we were getting the itching to go. We had spent out time there, and it was time for us to do our jobs. And unbeknownst to us, we were about to get the opportunity to do that in an albeit different capacity. And, like all good stories, it started in a bar….
"No, no Ald, I was the one who saved yer arse, not the other way around!" Willy exclaimed, trying to get me to tell a different version of a story. The assembled Guardsmen, all from various fragmented regiments of the Imperium, grinned and laughed at him. They all knew that he was attempting to save his own skin from embarrassment.
"Willy, you were too drunk off your ass to be of much use in that fight." I retorted. "In fact, I think Julie had more to do with it than you did!" The other guardsmen bellowed with laughter as Willy sputtered trying to explain what his version was as I walked off, having done the all the damage I needed to do. I walked out of the bar, the Broken Lasgun, into the night air of Earned Respite. It was quite, peaceful, the silence of the night only disturbed by the various bars, brothels, and other industries that kept the Guardsmen of the Imperium in check. Life on the planet was good…but I wanted action now. I was trained and I was drilled to fight, and while I may be stuck in the most grimdark universe ever, but God-damnit I wanted to do something!
As I stared up at the night sky, wondering when I would see action, I heard hushed voices nearby. Ever curious, I snuck over to where I thought I heard the voices, and found a small dead end alleyway. The light, thankfully, did not fall over the entrance to the alley, so I craned my neck around the corner to listen.
"So…we doin' it?" A hushed voice asked. "Tonight?"
"Da, we do it tonight." Another voice, thickly accented, almost Russian or Slavic, said.
"And we do it quick! I've got the shield, so not lasgun will hurt us, but I don't want to use it!" Another, higher, more excited voice said. "It'll have room for all three of us!"
"Good. We'll rob that blue-blood rouge trader bitch blind." The Slav said. That was all I needed to hear. I crept back to the shrubs near the bar and retrieved "The Old Man", aka my M-400 that I managed to get off Freeport. Unfortunately, the rounds it took were from Freeport itself, the "Freeport Special"; .45 AP rounds. Now thankfully, Earned Respite had both the materials and tools to machine said rounds, allowing me to build a stockpile of the stuff to take off-world. Not only that, but we were allowed to carry owned weapons on planet. I could walk around with it, unloaded of course, and slung on my back. I did that now, my bandolier on my back, and I watched as the trio came out of the alleyway. I turned to the bar, examining it as if I planned to go inside and try out the area. The three thieves took no notice as they went off, walking quickly, looking around nervously for followers. I let them get a hundred meters away before following, walking briskly after them. As I walked after them, a duo of PDF soldiers I knew walked into my path. The PDF, and Earned Respite as a whole, looked like something out of Victorian England, and the culture almost mimicked it, if not for the influence of the Imperium.
"'Ello, Ald!" They said cheerfully. They were Tegan and Jory, best friends from birth, battle brothers, and the friendliest people you ever met. I put a hand to my lips to quiet them. "What's going on?"
"Those three are gonna go rob someone, you wanna come stop them?" I asked. They looked at each other and shrugged.
"Why not, it's out last act in the PDF." Tegan said, a blonde with blue eyes and along face.
"What?" I asked.
"We just passed the tests to join the Imperial Guard." Jory said excitedly.
"Congratulations! Now let's end that career with a bang, shall we?" I asked. I wasn't thinking about the possible consequences, I just wanted action. And this was the perfect opportunity. The two followed behind me, lasguns at the ready, eager to have a little fun. We followed the thieves for a time before coming to the cargo area. As Guardsmen and PDF, we could pass freely, and, with the PDF by my side, I could walk in with the M-400. The three thieves ahead had nothing in terms of armament, and yet by the time we arrived at the warehouse, they had HELLGUNS. HELLGUNS! WHERE THE FRESH HELL DID THEY GET THOSE. I almost said that aloud in sheer irritation. I turned to the friends. "Go get back up." I whispered to them. They grinned and disappeared as best they could with their red uniforms. I turned back to the warehouse and watched as they punched in the code to the warehouse. Meaning this Rouge Trader had some traitors in her crew. As I sat and watched, I suddenly realized that when Sergeant Mikal heard I did this without getting him, I'd be dead even if I survived three Hellguns. A half hour passed, and the two returned with a full squad of red-uniformed PDF. The sergeant grinned at me.
"Couldn't wait to get off world for some fun, Guardsmen?" He asked.
"I guess not; they've got three Hellguns and a shield to keep out Lasguns." I told them.
"Buggah, we'll have to sneak up on them." The sergeant said. I waved the M-400.
"I've got bullets…bullets will go through that shield." I said. The PDF grinned.
"'Ow about we make them pop the shield, and you shoot 'em?" Jory suggested. I looked at the sergeant, who nodded. He motioned for his men to follow, fanning them out around the warehouse entrance.
"This is the PDF, you are in violation of Lady Mira Cicero's property, come out with your weapons above your heads." The sergeant bellowed.
"We are part of Lady Cicero's crew, no need to go antsy! We're just...taking inventory." The Slavic answered.
"Bullshit; this was inventoried a week ago and no requests have been made for additional inventory." The sergeant replied. As he finished, the shield, a shimmering wall of transparent blue.
"Ha ha, sucks for you! Your lasguns can't get through here!" The third man said. The three came into view, Hellguns held low, and clustered together. Perfect for a spray. I strode out from behind the PDF, M-400 pointed at them.
"Lasguns, sure," I racked the slide, "but what about bullets?" The three thieves looked at each other in confusion as I pulled the trigger. I let the magazine empty as their bodies were riddled with holes and fell to the floor. "Huh, there's an entry: make sure your shield can block anything anyone can shoot at you."
"Oh, you've read that one?" The sergeant asked. "Aye, that'll get in there. I wonder if we could send this to him?"
"If we could find the planet he's on." I answered. As the PDF moved in through a side door, a woman wielding a lasgun with a platoon of various Guardsmen stormed in.
"What is the meaning of this?!" The woman bellowed. Her presence was commanding, almost demanding respect from myself and the PDF. I was mildly scared of her right now.
"My apologies, my lady, I can explain-"
"You had better!" The lady cried. At this point, I surmised that this woman must've been Lady Mira Cicero, the "blue-blood rouge trader bitch" the three thieves had spoken off.
"Yes, my lady. This here Guardsman," the sergeant indicated me, "overheard three thieves, apparently apart of your crew, plotting to steal from you. He followed them, bringing a pair of PDF," he then indicated Tegan and Jory, "and arrived here. They acquired Hellguns from somewhere and began to loot your warehouse. Tegan and Jory here came, grabbed myself and my squad, and returned with us to apprehend the thieves. They somehow acquired a shield that could block our lasguns, but the Guardsman has an autogun that bypassed the shield, killing the thieves." The sergeant finished explaining. Lady Cicero looked at me, and I was really wishing she wasn't.
"You overheard this, Guardsman?" She asked me.
"Yes, milady." I answered.
"And what did they say?" She asked.
"Milady, they used some, choice language-"
"I spend a bloody day with Guardsmen, you may speak candidly." Lady Cicero interrupted.
"I believe the terms used were, 'we'll rob that blue-blood rouge trader bitch blind'." I explained. Lady Cicero laughed heartily at that statement.
"Thank you, Guardsman. What is your name and where are you from?" She asked, relaxing.
"Private Ald Russman, milady, I'm from the 13th Freeport Regiment." I answered, coming to attention.
"Relax, private, you are the hero in this situation." Cicero said. "Lady Mira Cicero, Rouge Trader of the Imperium." She waved off the assorted Guardsmen behind her, who sauntered off to wherever they had come from and slung her lasgun on her back. "You'll be remembered, Guardsman. Thank you."
"A pleasure to serve, milady." I said as she left. As soon as she was away, I exhaled heavily, and went back to the bar. This was a mistake because the moment I was within fifty feet of the place, Sergeant Mikal stepped from the darkness.
"So…running off to be a hero, eh?" He asked. He wasn't drunk; he only ever had two drinks a night, so he was just mad on principle. I didn't answer his question as he approached me. "What did I say about being a hero, lad?"
"Don't go trying to be a hero; you'll get killed more than likely." I repeated. I saw the punch coming, but I didn't bother dodging it. The man had pulled me from the rubble of Freeport and made me a Guardsman, he had a right to be pissed. I took the punch, swayed, but stayed on my feet.
"And yet you went and made yourself a hero to a bloody Rouge fucking Trader." Mikal growled. "Do you children ever listen?" Again, I remained silent, letting him rant. A solid five minutes of ranting and raging went on before he asked, "And what fucking blue blood did you save?"
"Lady Mira Cicero, sergeant." I replied. And I watched as he promptly stopped, turned to look at me, and widen his eyes.
"The Lady Mira Cicero?"
"I suppose, sergeant, I haven't heard of her." I answered.
"Lady Mira Cicero is an angel to Guardsmen; she's saved numerous regiments from certain death at the hands of the Administratum's stupidity. She also takes in survivors such as us from broken regiments." Mikal explained. "This doesn't mean you're forgiven, lad! But…good work."
"Thank you sergeant." I said as Mikal walked back to the bar. I stood there for a moment, then reclined my head.
"God damn it…I just hit a fucking plot point."
The next day I, the squad, and somehow Jory and Tegan, were recruited by Lady Mira Cicero to serve aboard the Rouge Trader vessel Forward Into Night. And that is the first chapter of my life in Warhammer 40K closed. Now, was that little heroic act a little too convenient, a little too much like out of a fanfiction? Absolutely. Am I going to question it? Hell no, I know better than that. After that action, however, it didn't get easier. Instead, it got harder.
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Author's Note: Okay, 40K community, hear me out please. I'm still getting my way into your MASSIVE neck of the woods, so I will frequently bumble about and screw up. Have mercy, PM me and tell me what's up, and I'll fix it, okay? Okay!
