AN: First Fanfiction, trying to stay loyal to my sources, and tell me what you think. Go all out with your criticism (Even flames!) All I ask is that you explain your review.
Gregory awoke with a sudden jolt. The dark metal room was eerie, as he heard yelling emanate from outside. He got up, and realized he fell asleep with his flak jacket. He brushed this off, would only make him faster to form up outside. Two soldiers rushed past him, putting on their helmets.
"Oi! Gregory! Get movin' or the Commissar'll have your head!" One of them yelled, clearly from his platoon. He breathed slowly as he picked up his lasgun, putting on his leather boots, and rushed outside.
As Gregory moved out of the door, light flooded his eyes, as he cringed for a few seconds. He saw a massive line of men stand before him; all in standard Cadian battle gear. They were on the ground floor of a massive hive, though the lower levels were all but completely evacuated. What remained were desolate streets made of dirt, and hard plasteel buildings.
They were in what seemed like an intersection with 4 streets. Before them stood a massive lift that would carry people up to the other levels, right smack in the middle of the base, like a gigantic space elevator. The light that he thought was the sun turned out to be nothing more then artificial lighting. The buildings seemed to tower infinitely into the sky, but he could hear yells from the other companies echo from the upper levels.
A commissar and the Lord General himself stood in front of it. As he saw men pour out of the other "Barracks", he hurried into formation. He was in the second row of this makeshift line, and he could tell none of the other guardsmen enjoyed being in polluted clearing, in the streets of a massive hive.
From what Gregory could hear, the guardsmen quieted themselves. The lord general opened his mouth about to speak, but then an untimely snicker came out from one of the soldiers in the frontline. Not one second later the sound of a laspistol being discharged and a thud was heard, as commissars are known for doing.
"If your mouth is too rampant to show respect, then perhaps your scream will show an example!" The commissar shouted at the moaning guardsman. The General cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak once more.
"Alright, Cadians! I'm sure you've already heard of the renegade forces that will be giving us all Hell tomorrow! But, something your pamphlets forgot to leave out, was that we won't be fighting alone!"
The guardsmen would've groaned had it not been for the threat of execution not 10 feet away from them, in a trench coat. Whenever they paired up with another regiment, they were usually treated like crap. Catachans would shove them around and generally beat up some of the weaker Cadians while the officers weren't looking, while the Vostroyans typically twirled their massive mustaches and turned away and shunned them. Hell, even other Cadians would bully the members of their regiment for being a relatively new regiment.
"Our help won't be in the form of Space Marines, or in the help of Catachan!" The Lord General continued, "But in the form of a well-known force whose deserters' cocks are more loyal than all of you put together! You will be fighting with the Death Korps of Krieg! Masters of warfare, second only to Cadia!" He yelled, as several forced cheers cried out, joining his victory 'Hoo-rah!'
'Well shit,' Was all Gregory could think upon hearing that practically batshit insane legion. The guardsmen dispersed and Gregory moved up to a group of his comrades, all chatting in a circle near one of the armories. This was his squad, they were trained to respect and be friends with each other, but Gregory would always remain 'that one guy' to them. He only remembered two of their names; Skipper and Samuel.
"You think these Kriegsmen'll treat us like shit like the other regiments?" He heard one of the Cadians reply,
"No way. They'll be too busy being brainwashed assholes against the heretics." Another replied, folding his arms. The banter continued for several minutes before the alarm for rations was signaled.
After rations, Gregory sat on the dirt which covered the whole section of the Hive, in the clearing in the middle of their "base", watching the city on the other levels teem with life. He saw a Chimera drive by, with a big '234th' painted on the side. That was his regiment, the 234th regiment. The particular company he was in was composed of the recruits in Cadia, rarely showing much battle prowess of note, and it didn't get much better with the other companies.
Still, Gregory sat. Of course he never regretted his life. Regardless of what happened to him, the Emperor was always thankful for his service. Plus, he thanked the Emperor for the fact a Commissar hasn't executed him or anything dreadful like that.
He brought his rifle to his face and examined it, seeing as there was nothing left to do. It looked like it lacked any battle damage whatsoever. He saw this coming; it was fresh off the assembly line. The ammo was fully charged, and it showed no signs of breaking anytime soon, as if one of these things COULD break.
Gregory picked his head up to the sound of a group of guardsmen marching across the clearing, all chanting some tune he couldn't pick up. He asked what was going on, to which the guardsman at the very end replied, "Kriegsmen are here! We're a part of the welcoming party!" He said loudly. Gregory scrambled up and tried to catch up with them.
'Nobody would notice if he let himself in this little welcoming group, right?' He slipped his lasgun over his arm like his comrades and tried to pick up the pace his comrades had.