By the time we reached the swamp it was growing dark. Little light shone down from the moonless sky, leaving us shadowed. The only lights on the ground were the soft glow of Adin's night scope. I had an auspex tucked away in my pack, but I did not bother pulling it out. In a swamp like this it would only attract predators.

Cyrus slowed down the advance, giving the lesser armored Guardsmen slack. He was different from most of the Space Marines I had encountered before. For one, he was not a snobby, arrogant asshole. Most Space Marines were. It came with being a genetically enhanced super human. Cyrus' lack of attitude was a refreshing relief.

The rest of his Space Marines were not much different. From what little I had learned about the Space Marine culture, I knew that the scouts tended to be the newest and youngest recruits. They had not had hundreds of years of superiority ingrained into their bones. One of them was even friendly, making small talk about our bolters as we searched for safe footing through the treacherous paths.

The relentless sucking mud clung to our boots, slowing the Guardsmen to a crawl. They were clearly unused to traversing the swamp in boots. As civilians they might have hunted in similar places, but their flak armor and boots were too heavy and bulky for the delicate hunter's paths. More than one Guardsmen stumbled and fell into the murky water when their boots plowed straight through the soft earth.

Adin had little trouble with the swamp. He was an accomplished woodsman, one of the top of his class in survival training. He directed the Guardsmen from dry patch to dry patch, leading them forward with little trouble. Montross walked along side them, his repulsor boots holding him just above the water level. I caught his smug grin as he stepped carelessly over a gap in the path, coat swishing within inches of the water.

No one spoke a word. There was little chance that someone was watching or listening, but there was an obscene silence that covered the swamp. The air was heavy and oppressive, choking even Adin's optimism. It was a dreary place.

And full of creatures. Snakes as wide as my arm glided through the water. Dozens of species of lizard and rodent animals slithered through the sparse grass, nipping at our heels. One came up and bit at my boot. It was the size of a cat, with large bulbous eyes and knife-shaped ears. Its teeth sank into the tip of my boot, punching through the steel tip with a crunching noise. I felt the teeth brush my toes. Surprised, but not alarmed, I lifted my other foot and stomped down, crushing the vermin's skull like paper.

"Nasty bite," I muttered, bending down to examine the puncture holes. They were neat and precise, hardly bent the steel under the leather. I whistled lightly. Making a mental note to watch out for more, I waved Adin over. He shook his head when he saw the holes.

"I'll warn the grunts. Fix bayonets?"

"Sounds like old times, doesn't it?"

He let out a short bark of laughter and returned to the infantrymen, pointing towards the ground. Emphasizing his point, he whipped out his combat knife and dropped to one knee. He stood a moment later, holding a dead rodent out for them to inspect. Their bayonets could not have been attached any faster.

The satellite images I had read told me the swamp was only a couple miles wide. We were well over halfway before any real trouble started. The path disappeared completely, vanishing for thirty meters. Cyrus stepped straight into it, unafraid as the swamp muck rose to caress his stomach. That put the water as deep as our chests. That was just asking for some unseen monster to strike. The scouts followed without hesitation, dropping into the water with their weapons held high. Montross hovered over the water, standing out like a statue dedicated to the Emperor.

"After you," Adin said, gesturing grandly. I shot him an evil look and stepped in carefully. My boots sank in completely. A growl rose in my throat, but I forced it down and took another step. The water was neither cold nor warm, but some disgusting place in the middle. I was glad to be wearing a full-body suit.

The Guardsmen filed in after me, eyeing the water nervously. Collins was the first, I noted. They held their las rifles close to their chests. Inching forward, we began to pass through the water. The Space Marines reached the other side without incident, as did Montross. They stood quietly waiting for us, their eyes tracking our progress.

A long, slick object brushed my leg. I nearly froze. It was as long as a snake, but it was far underwater. Did they have water-breathing snakes on Uthreme, or was that something far worse? Either way, I did not stick around. I waded forward, moving fast enough that I was no causing any splashing, and whispered a harsh order for everyone else to do likewise. No explanation was necessary. They understood the urgency in my voice.

We almost made it. The shore was a few arm's lengths out when one of the Guardsmen shrieked in pain. I turned around just in time to see him sink below the surface, pulled under by an invisible force. No one moved for a heartbeat, they all stared at where he had just been. Them someone panicked, raised his las rifle, and fired into the water.

One of the biggest problems that I had with the las fire technology was that it was not a solid matter weapon. Sure, lasers did not suffer from friction or gravity, but they were governed by the laws of physics. As little more than intensely concentrated heat beams, lasers were one of the last weapons that should be used in watery scenarios. When fired into a large body of water, all they did was heat it up. The laser barely penetrated more than an arm's length.

But they did raise one hell of a steam cloud. The water bubbled and hissed menacingly as his lasers cut into it. The steam spread out as it rose, covering our heads and enshrouding us in mist. The others Guardsmen panicked. They began firing too, thinking that the mist was some sort of animal creature. Lasers flew every direction, not just into the water. I raised one arm to protect my head and grabbed at the nearest soldier. Feeling a collar, I yanked hard. It was Collins. His eyes were wide as saucers.

"Get onto dry ground," I ordered, trying to keep my voice low. The Guardsmen were in a full blown panic, screaming and yelling with enough noise to alert anyone within miles of our position. I shoved Collins off in the direction of the shore and waded in, grasping at the straps to my combat knife. It was tucked against my right shoulder, but the wet straps were slick. I cursed the leather and pulled another soldier out of the mist.

My legs buckled suddenly as something hard slammed against my shins. I fell forward, body tensing in shock. The surface of the hissing water slapped my face like a scalding tea. I forced my head under the surface, finding the cooler water below, and opened my eyes.

It was not a monster that had struck me, but a drowning Guardsmen. His hand was clawing for me as he was dragged away into the murky depths. I reached out instinctively with one hand, finding his, and held on tight. The force of the monster pulling him jerked me forward.

My combat knife's strap finally came loose and I pulled it out. Tugging myself through the water, I climbed past the man's face and got a hold of his belt. A giant tentacle was wrapped around his thigh. I stabbed as hard as I could through the water, plunging my blade deep into the slimy organ.

The tentacle retracted immediately, breaking free of my knife and releasing the man. His face was dangerously pale. Wrapping an arm around his waist, I found ground and pushed off. My lungs burned with the effort, but we reached the surface. Our heads exploded out of the water, surrounded by wafting clouds of steam. The cries of the Guardsmen assaulted our ears like sweet music. A laser zipped past out heads, narrowly missing my shoulder.

"Hold you fire," I shouted, struggling to find my footing. The Guardsmen hung limply in my grasp, unconscious. Two Guardsmen emerged from the mist like ghosts. I moved to meet them, lugging the hapless Guardsmen with me.

"He's unconscious. Get him to the shore!"

The men leapt forward and grabbed him. Nothing motivated them like a wounded comrade, it seemed. That left me to return my attention to the waters. There were still men firing all over, and they were scattered. I slogged towards the nearest sound, praying that I was not about to be shot in the face. An armored back appeared out of the mist. The Guardsmen was hacking wildly at the water, using his rifle like a club. I reached out a hand to grab his back.

The water exploded to our side. A fist sized tentacle shot out and wrapped around his arm. Before he could move a second object came out of the water. It was a monstrous head, scaled like a snake's but with three jaws and a single eye between the upper ones. It bit down onto his arm, just above the elbow. The man screamed in pain.

My knife was there in an instant, slashing the tentacle in half. The head recoiled, ripping the man's arms off at the shoulder, and faded back into the water. The man's rifle went with it. I caught the man before he fell, grabbing his shoulder harness and yanking him away. I thrust into the water as I backpedaled, horrified at the blood that gushed out of the man's empty socket. The Guardsmen moaned in pain. That was not good. Screams were good, that meant he was conscious. Moans meant he was already in shock. He needed immediate medical care.

Collins was waiting at the edge of the water. He stood waist deep, a large machete in one hand and a slug pistol in the other. I stumbled past him, half-carrying the wounded Guardsmen, and flopped onto the ground. The bank hit my stomach, I could not get up while carrying him. Thankfully, eager hands pulled him out of the water.

I wanted to get out of the water and lie down so bad. My breath came in ragged gasps from the adrenaline pulsing through my veins. But there were more men out there. I pushed off the solid ground and spun to face the waters. The surface erupted right in front of me. A fearsome, triangular headed monster rushed to meet me. Its jaws scraped my chest plate, blasting me backwards against the bank. The air left my lungs in a whoosh, stunning me. Perplexed by the resistance, the head drew back. It hovered for a moment in midair. I returned its gaze, bringing my knife up to bear. The beast's maw opened wide and it let out a ululating cry that made my skin crawl. Just as it started to snap forward a loud bang ripped beside my right ear. The beast's head exploded like a melon. It sank back into the water without a noise.

Collins stepped in front of me protectively. I caught my breath and got back on my feet. Patting his shoulder appreciatively, I slipped past him and went back into the mist. Two more las rifles blared out further in the mist. I did not want to ponder the implication of that small a number. Were the others dead, or had they gotten to shore?

Adin's imposing figure rose out of the water to my left. He was holding a Guardsmen by the collar. The man was clearly dead, with blood all over his throat. I swallowed and moved past them. The last two were standing close together. They were standing back to back, firing frantically into the water.

"Stay back," One of them yelled. "It's in here somewhere."

The water rippled in front of one of them. The man fired relentlessly into the spot, sending spouts of steam gushing up to obscure the man's vision. The ripple disappeared, reappearing a moment later in front of the other man. I saw the pattern and stepped forward, studying the water intently.

When the thing crossed in front of me, too busy circling the men to notice me, I stuck one hand into the water and grabbed a hold of it. Yanking it out, I held it at arm's length to look at it. It was a simple water snake, nothing more. It hissed angrily at me. I raised my combat knife and jammed the blade in under its jaws. The flailing stopped.

"Come on, let's go before more of them show up," I barked, grabbing the men's attention. We rushed for the bank as fast as our feet could carry us. Every second crawled by like an hour until Collins grabbed my arm and pulled me forward. Adin extended a hand, helping me out of the swamp, and I clambered onto drier ground.

Adin's helmet slipped into view as I rolled onto my back and inhaled deeply. My ribs ached from the beast's blow. There was a soft whirring noise and his visor cycled into the helmet, revealing his amber colored eyes.

"You ok there, buddy?"

"Oh yeah, just give me a minute."

He backed away as I sucked greedily for air. I would have given anything for a warm shower and a cold room, but the muggy air of the swamp would have to suffice. Feet were trampling nearby, and there were lots of low voices murmuring overhead. I did not care. I stared up into the sky, enjoying a short moment of relief.

"Are you hurt, sir?"

Collins sat down beside me, letting out a long sigh. His cheek was scratched badly and his armor was covered in muck, but otherwise he looked fine. I rocked forward to a sitting position beside him, wincing as the motion sent jolts of lightning through my chest.

"Bruised rib or two, maybe. Not bad at all."

I jerked my head behind me, where everyone else was. "What's the count? How many did we lose?"

"Uh… two, for now. Hakim is in a bad way, I don't think he's going to make it."

I twisted around to look. There was a startlingly large number of Guardsmen still standing after the chaos of the creatures' attack. Many of them were clustered around something I could not see, but I heard the anxiety in their voices clear as day.

"He's the one who lost his arm," Collins offered somberly. I nodded slowly.

"What about the other two? Taken by the beasts?"

"One was, I think. We can't find him. The other was mauled, and shot."

"Shot?"

Collins whimpered softly and buried his head in his hands. His body shuddered with a sob. I did not have to think hard to know what had happened. Lasers had been flying everywhere. It was a miracle that more men had not been killed.

"Take it easy, Collins. You did fine."

He did not respond. I patted his back once and rose to my feet. Leaving him alone, I strode over to Montross, who was standing silently with Cyrus. Neither looked very happy.

"Their shots and cries will have been heard by every rebel within five miles." Montross scowled fiercely. "We need to continue on. Delaying only puts us in more danger."

"I agree," Cyrus announced. He pointed his sniper rifle towards the trees. "We need to get into the woods. No rest until we are a mile in. It will be safe for them to mourn their dead there."

"They've got wounded," I pointed out. "Let me rig a stretcher, then we can go."

"Hakim is already dead," Montross spat. The strength of his voice carried out across the group. A shocked hush fell over the Guardsmen. Adin glanced at me, his visor back on. This was the flip side of the Commissars. No mercy, not to the enemy, not to their own men. The Guardsmen had not learned the extent of that dedication yet.

"Fine," I muttered. Turning away, I walked back to Collins and tapped his shoulder. "Get up, we need to get moving."

The Guardsmen stood mutely, staring about uncertainly. Montross addressed them all as loud as he dared, but his voice caught their attention.

"The swamp will be swarming with rebels in less than an hour. We are leaving, now!"

A handful sprang to action, responding with numb energy. The others clustered around the dying Guardsmen, trying to find a way to pick him up. Montross unholstered his pistol and fired a single round through their midst. The bolt shell punched through the man's armor and erupted inside his heart, killing him instantly. The last thing on his face was an expression of horror.

The Space Marines jogged off towards the woods to secure it, leaving us behind with the Commissar and ten suddenly angry Guardsmen. Montross stood his ground, smoking pistol dangling at his side. He looked each one in the eye, challenging them.

"His misery is over. You can join him, or you can move out."

A solitary Guardsmen's hand inched towards the trigger of his las rifle. Adin slapped his barrel towards the ground.

"You can't change the past," Adin warned them. "Now come on. Make their sacrifices worth something."

The men listened to Adin, and marched mutely away. Montross and I watched them go for a moment. The Commissar shot me a sidelong glance.

"And what do you have to say, Kasrkin? Do you approve?"

"I do." I admitted it freely, but kept my voice low. "They don't understand the risk. You put him out of his misery, saving their lives. They aren't used to it all though. I doubt they will understand it for quite some time."

"They don't have to understand it. They just have to follow orders."

I shrugged carelessly. "Yeah. Go on ahead, I'll be a minute. I'm going to gather supplies and ammunition from the dead. Better to take it with us than leave it to rot or worse, for the traitors to get a hold of."

Montross nodded and started off after the soldiers. His uniform was still pristinely untouched by the swamp muck.

Standing beside the dead bodies, I studied each face carefully, committing them to memory. The one that Adin had dragged ashore was missing his dog tags. I grabbed Hakim's and stuffed them into a pocket. Stripping off their ammunition belts, I slung their canteens and ration packs over my shoulder. Neither of their rifles had been recovered. Two extra week's worth of ration was more than enough. I jogged off after the fading bodies, watching the tree line far off to our left. I could not help but imagine a sniper sitting out in the brush, with his scope trained on my face. I hurried along, putting as much distance between myself and the swamp as quickly as I could.

Cyrus did not call a halt until we were several miles away from the swamp. The Guardsmen flopped onto the ground gratefully, exhausted by the Space Marines' pace. Even Adin and I were breathing hard. I wanted nothing more than to lie down and shut my eyes, but I knew that was impossible. The perimeter needed to be secured, I needed to pass out the dead men's gear, and the issue of Montross' actions needed to be settled. The Guardsmen had said nothing yet, but their eyes were easy enough to read. They were angry and confused. Once they passed that point, they would have a lot of questions.

Adin set about forestalling that. He walked among the Guardsmen, calming their nervous with easy banter. His helmet remained on, but the cheery tone encouraged them. I sat alone, my back to a large tree. Picking carefully at the armor, I removed my chest plates and felt around the sore area. Only one rib was broken, but several more were battered and bruised. It was going to be a painful recovery. Not horrible, but painful. The next few days were going to be awful.

The soft tramping of boots alerted me to another's presence. Collins sat down beside me, keeping a respectful distance away. I shot him a glance and nodded my head.

"How are you feeling," I asked, already guessing the answer. Collins blinked a few times and looked up at me. His eyes were red and puffy.

"Is it always like this?"

"Yeah."

There was no point in avoiding the truth. It was there right in front of him. No lies or sweet talking would erase the memory of the swamp. That was the way it should be. He had been unlucky. My first battle had been a trench fight against a swarm of Chaos cultists. It was not nearly as traumatizing as seeing men dragged into a swamp by alien creatures. My days in the Ordo Malleus came to mind, painfully fresh. It seemed that my bad luck had survived the Inquisition.

"Men die in war, Collins. That's how it always has been, that's how it always will be. There is no getting around it. I'm sorry for your men. They did not deserve deaths like that."

"Why did he do it?"

I started to ask who he was referring to, but the answer struck me before I spoke. Collins was not looking at me, but glaring across at Montross. His weapons were still holstered, but I could tell that he wanted to use them.

"To get your men out of there. If he had let you try and bring him, we could have all been caught."

"He frakking shot Hakim! He shot him like a dog."

I sighed softly, wincing as the action drew out a twinge of pain. People in shock were always hardest to deal with.

"How long would he have survived being dragged or carried? He had already lost a lot of blood."

'He could have given us a chance!"

"And risk all of us getting killed? I know you don't want to hear it, Collins, but in war you are going to have to make sacrifices."

The sergeant shook his head defiantly. "No, there's always a choice. We could have gone back."

"Back through the swamp?" I hid my incredulity well. He was grasping at straws, wishing for a justification. I pitied him. There was a reason why sergeants were battle-hardened soldiers, not fresh boys. The responsibility was crushing.

"Collins, come here."

The Guardsmen scooted closer and leaned back against the tree. I curled my hand into a fist and knocked his knee plate soundly.

"Don't waste your time thinking of 'what if's.' You will find plenty of solutions, but no answers. It will take time, but you need to learn to let it go. I did."

Reaching into my pocket, I withdrew Hakim's dog tags and handed them over. Collins snatched them out of my hand and stared quietly at them. After a moment of silence he took his helmet off and draped the dog tags around his neck, adding them to his own. I watched silently as he redid his chinstrap. His eyes flicked over to mine defensively, but I nodded my approval.

"You're going to make a good sergeant," I told him. "Pray that you never lose your feelings. A cold man is little more than a machine."

He managed a weak smile. I slapped him on the back reassuringly.

"Go to your men, get some sleep. Tomorrow isn't going to be any better. The traitors probably know we are out here now. They are going to be on their guard."

The sergeant got up slowly and trekked off towards his squad. I relished the quiet that followed. It was soft, serene. There were too few of those nowadays. I enjoyed them while I could. My bolter rested in my lap and I stretched my arms. Knuckles cracked welcomingly.

"Your courage is commendable," a voice rumbled. I glanced upwards, peering up at the massive hulking form of the Space Marine leader. His grey hair and brilliantly green eye contrasted sharply with his gleaming red armor. I sighed quietly. Silence was too rare.

"I thought you Astartes didn't find anything good in us normals."

"You are misinformed, Leon Kane. We are always on the lookout for new talent."

"I'm not interested."

The sharp, biting tone had no affect on the Space Marine. He chuckled softly and shook his head.

"We are looking for recruits on this planet, it is true. As it is, your peculiar condition makes you unsuitable for the trials. Your skills are best served in your own body."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I merely came over to compliment your devotion. You went back into the swamp to rescue the Guardsmen. None of their own went back in."

"As you said, I've got the skills."

"If the Uthreme Guard had a company of men of your caliber, the rebel hordes would tremble. My commander allowed you to join this mission on Colonel Mars' request. So far it looks like his faith in you is justified."

"Wait until the shooting starts. I'm even better with a bolter."

"Which brings the question, how did you obtain it?"

My hesitation in answering gave him a good enough hint. He held out his hand, eyes clearly indicating that he wanted a look. I held the weapon out, gripping the massive barrel in one hand. He took it by the handle and examined it with a critical eye.

"This has the markings of the Deathwatch on it."

He tapped the side of the magazine casing, indicating an ornate 'I' with a bleached white skull over it. Moving his finger, he pointed to the same symbol on the side of the bolter, just above the trigger guard. He did not look disturbed or resentful, just curious.

"How did you get it?"

"I fought with a Deathwatch squad while under Inquisitor Verne."

"Where?"

"Spartus Sector. Rogue Dark Eldar and Flame Falcons. Craziest shit I've ever seen."

He huffed lightly. "Rogue Dark Eldar? That seems like a contradiction of terms."

"That's what I had thought. Apparently the Dark Eldar don't like sharing their secrets. You ever gotten in a four-way firefight between an Inquisition squad, traitor Space Marines, Dark Eldar skimmers, and an out-of-control daemon?"

The Marine shook his head slightly and handed the bolter back. I accepted it gratefully and set it on my lap. He tapped his chest armor, finger pointing to a skull mark that matched the symbol on my bolter.

"Deathwatch, two centuries. I've never done anything quite like that, but we all have our own stories."

"I'm sure yours are more impressive than mine. I was only in the Ordo Malleus for five years."

"And the bolter?"

"Ultramarine, Pasanius. I think he was hoping to recruit me into the Ultramarines until they found out I was a Blaknk. Good fellow, straight as an arrow and deadly with a bolt pistol. He gave this to me when his bionic arm was damaged. Never asked for it back."

"That was generous of him."

"Yeah. I tried to give it back, after the mission. He refused. Said I had earned it. I did not complain too much. This beats a hellgun any day. It's more powerful, more portable, and carries a powerful reputation."

"He must have had much faith in you to let you hold such a sacred weapon. I will stand by his judgment. I formally welcome you into this mission, Leon Kane, veteran of the 8th Cadian regiment. You and your partner are proving to be valuable, and interesting allies."

"Thanks. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to grab some shuteye. I know you guys don't really sleep, so I won't say good night."

Cyrus gave a little grin and turned away. He patted the tree trunk as he left, using that as his goodbye. I nodded to his departing back and rested my chin on my chest. I was going to be really stiff in the morning. My eyelids dropped quickly. I was halfway through a yawn when I nodded off.

I woke with a start, grasping the handle of my bolter instinctively. Something was wrong. The acrid smell of a laser discharge wafted through the air. There was a lot of jerky movement crunching through the sticks and leaves. I looked first left, then right. Two Space Marines were standing guard fifty meters ahead. They did not look the least bit worried. The sound was coming from behind me, on the other side of the tree.

Since the Marines did not appear alarmed, I assumed that the situation had been handled. I adjusted my grip on the bolter and turned around the tree. The Guardsmen were standing around in a cluster, weapons pointed at the ground. Adin stood with them, his sniper rifle slung over his shoulder. Montross and Cyrus stood apart, conversing in low tones. There was on figure missing from the group; Collins.

I leapt up to my feet in an instant, scanning the ground for a body. There was none. Collins was just gone. I was shocked. It had not been more than a few hours since I had spoken with him. He had not seemed like the man to desert. On the other hand, he looked more than capable of keeping it together.

"What happened," I demanded, seeking out Adin. Adin turned to face me and dropped his visor. His expression was perfectly calm.

"Traitor patrol got too close. Three of them."

"And?"

His right hand drifted down to his side and tapped the butt of his rifle. "Cyrus, Collins and I took them out. Collins is checking them out now with one of the Astartes."

There was a faint hint of respect in Adin's voice. My eyes narrowed curiously, questions brimming. Adin nodded knowingly.

"With his carbine. From a hundred meters. That kid should have a sniper rifle."

"Sounds like he does just fine with a carbine," I muttered. Hitting a target at 100 meters with a carbine, hitting a kill-shot no less, in a forest required either an extreme amount of luck or a precise hand. His marksman score could have accounted for that. It was not unheard of, after all, to kill someone from that range with such a weapon. It was just unlikely to happen. At that range the laser needed to hit soft flesh. Armor would dissipate it and bone would stop it, although it would be shattered. I wondered where he had hit his target.

"Here they come now."

Collins and a Space Marine came trudging out of the trees, dragging the corpses of three Guardsmen with them. Collins held his by the arms and was dragging it face-first in the dirt. The Marine was holding each of his bodies by the neck, carrying them effortlessly as if they weighed nothing. To him, they probably did. Cyrus and Montross cut off the Guard squad and stood over the bodies, examining them closely. I shot Adin a look and strode over. He followed, curious to see the bodies.

If Adin had been hoping for some disgusting Chaos mutation in the bodies he was sorely disappointed. Their hair was dark and curly, their skin tanned like toast. The only unusual thing about them was the gut wrenching holes in their faces. All three had been shot through an eye socket. That fact did not seem to phase anyone looking except for Collins, who had the slightest shade of green in his cheeks.

"Damn," I muttered. Cyrus looked away from the bodies for only a moment to regard me. He nodded in respect and went back to examining the bodies. I did too, not feeling the least bit bothered.

Their armor was the same shade of grey that the rest of the Uthreme Guard wore. The Imperial Eagle's had been torn or sawn off of every piece of equipment on them. In its place was drawn a crude skull with flaming eyes. I glanced at Montross, watching for a reaction. He had none. Apparently the symbols meant nothing to him.

Another difference that I saw was that their gloves were fingerless. It was not a great difference, but it was noticeable. Looking closer, I inspected their fingers. They were rough and calloused, with dirty nails and cracked skin. Even for someone living in the wild, they were in horrible shape. I knelt down and pried the cooling fingers off of the man's rifle with my knife, examining his palms. They were scarred from burns, as if he had been grasping hot metal. The cuffs of his sleeves were bloody.

"I'll give you twenty guesses to find out what happened to him," Adin joked in my ear. I shook my head subtly, telling him to shut up. I ran my gloved hand down his chest, feeling for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing.

"Were they alone?"

Montross nodded slowly. He gestured towards the Space Marines still on the perimeter.

"They saw no one else."

"Do you think they were looking for us, or just out hunting for food?"

"It doesn't matter. Either way, we need to get moving. With so few men and no rucksacks their base cannot be far away. Our best bet is to continue southeast. We should skirt any outposts that way."

"That sounds like a plan."

I pushed off my knees and rocked to my feet. The sun was still low in the sky. I looked over to the Guardsmen, who were trying hard to appear uninterested in the bodies. Collins had backed away and stood against the tree that I had slept against. He leaned his shoulder against it, boots crossed casually. His shoulders were trembling.

Adin slapped my back to get my attention. I winced, feeling the impact rebound like lightning through my healing ribs, and growled dangerously.

"Collins is putting up with it rather well."

"So far. He's going through a lot. I just hope the pressure doesn't make him crack."

"I think he'll be fine" Adin assured me. "There's more courage in that kid than a in a regular platoon of Guardsmen."

"Which might be the problem. You can see the tension building up inside him. He might explode if he can't find a way to let it go."

"In a good way or bad way?"

The joke did not make me feel better. Adin patted my shoulder and strode over to the sergeant, adopting a confident swagger. His intention did not need to be spoken. I appreciated the effort he was taking. Adin rarely showed any respect for the regular troops. He was not above the elitism that came from being a Kasrkin. I had it too, just not as bad. For him to reach out to a regular Guardsman, it was a great show of either loyalty to me or understanding.

Adin came up beside the young man and looked straight ahead. I could not hear from the distance, but I knew he was talking to him. After watching for a long moment, seeing Collins relax slightly, I looked away and sought out Montross. The Commissar stood with his back to a thick oak, his eyes on the Guardsmen. The tension in the air was palpable. The hard edge around his eyes told me that Montross recognized the threat he was now facing. The Guardsmen had recovered from their shock, and the resentment and hatred was setting in. They were simmering like a kettle on the edge of boiling. At any moment an itchy trigger could initiate a blood bath.

"Wish you were back in the town" I muttered, coming up beside him. The Commissar did not spare me a glance. His lips barely moved as he answered, hand gripping his pistol tightly.

"My duty is here" he growled. "Anything less would be dishonor and disloyalty."

I gave him a tight-lipped smile and nodded. It was a good thing he was not watching my eyes. I had complete faith in the Emperor, but not that much. If the Emperor wanted us throwing away our lives, he could tell us explicitly.

"Where to now?"

"We continue on our mission. With luck we will be able to infiltrate the traitor's lines and find the source of this damned corruption."

"Are the Astartes taking point again?"

"Yes. You and your comrade should stay with the Guardsmen. They are easier to handle when you are with them."

"Adin and I will be much more effective out front," I protested. "We're shock troopers, not babysitters."

"That is not my call" Montross replied, cracking his knuckles slowly. "Sergeant Cyrus requested that his team take the front. They have many more years experience than you do. And their armor and weapons are better."

"But they're bigger targets," I muttered.

The Commissar stepped away from the safety of the tree and glanced over at the lifeless bodies of the traitor Guardsmen. He sniffed once in disgust.

"Pack your gear, Kasrkin. The enemy is waiting."