Chapter 21 – A Simple Plan
Kemuel strode through the mountain base, the weight of his armored steps echoing off the halls. It was nothing more than an upgraded retreat the Sisters rarely used, but with a little Custode help, it would turn into a proper stronghold. He couldn't wait to host a blood game, to test the perimeters and sneak into the central forge room. It wouldn't be like the blood games at the Imperial Palace, so maybe he would stand a chance of winning.
A roar from a deep chamber hit his ears. It was a room the Space Wolves took as a sparring chamber. Kemuel never interacted with Space Marines, let alone Space Wolves. They were a loud and boisterous bunch; untamed, uncouth, and rude. But they did have an energy that he was beginning to appreciate. After guarding the Emperor for so long, it was…nice to have a change of pace; refreshing, even. It might not smack of honor and valor to not guard the Master of Mankind, to be so far away from Him, but the energy the Space Wolves brought with them was infectious.
Pulling off his helm to feel the cooler air, he ventured down the steps to their practice cages. Two shirtless youths were in the middle of one, pounding each other as hard as they could. Around the cages, the others watched, yelling and cursing as the combatants traded blows. Helfist stood next to the cage, the only one wearing a shirt, arms folded across his chest, a small grin on his face.
Helfist was the first one to notice Kemuel walk in. He said nothing, but the others picked up on some non-verbal cue, for silence quickly fell as they turned towards him. Even the two fighting men stopped, their gene-enhanced bodies quickly repairing the split lips and bloody noses.
"Kemuel, what brings you down here?" Helfist asked.
"My duties," Kemuel replied. "I have to check every crevice of this place to find possible points of entry."
"Sounds like dull shit."
"It is my duty."
"Aye, and we all have to do our duties, right?"
"That is right. I see that you are practicing yours." He nodded to the cages.
"Yea, the Claws are having a grand old time beating the piss outta each other," Vermund said. "They got enthusiasm. Maybe some skill, but we're working on that."
"Your Chapter seems to take close combat very seriously."
"Damn straight," he grinned. "Everything dies when you cut off their head. What about you Custodes? How do bodyguards train?"
"To protect the Emperor, not ourselves."
"But you're no slouch in a fight yourselves, right?"
"Are you challenging me to a fight, little wolf?" Kemuel asked, his scars twisting minutely as his lips threatened to pull into a grin.
That got the Claws. They let out one big, collective, slow 'oooooooh.'
"Shut up, all of you," Helfist said. "I'm just saying that you have to be pretty handy in a brawl to be guard to the Emperor."
"Martial prowess is emphasized. But my question remains: are you challenging me to a fight?"
"Augh, you'll pummel me to the floor," Helfist sighed. A few Claws scoffed at him, and Kemuel felt his twin hearts pick up, beating faster in preparation for a fight. "Fine. Let's do it. Out of the cage."
Kemuel set his guardian spear against the wall. It was gene-encoded; only he could fire it or activate the power field. Leaving it alone, unattended, bit at him, but he was putting his faith in the Wolves' honor, and they were known for holding their promises. The Claws left the cage and immediately began pushing each other to the side for the best seats.
"Think you can get out of that armor fast enough?" Helfist asked.
"I am apt at maintaining my own gear."
"Good. I'd hate to be punching that thing with my bare hands."
"I thought they called you 'Helfist.'"
"Aye, and you'll see why in a bit." Vermund said. He held up a finger. "One punch. That's all I'll throw."
"Because that is all it will take?" Kemuel asked, raising his eyebrow.
"No, that's all I think I could get in!"
Kemuel was quick to get out of his obsidian armor. It was strange being free from it. Vermund was waiting for him in the cage.
"Fekke, why'd I agree to this?" He muttered. Kemuel towered over him by a head.
"You were the one who challenged me."
"I guess. Us Sons of Russ love challenges. For better or worse."
"Do I have the right to assume that you will not be using your psykic powers?"
"It's druid powers," he spat. "And no, I won't."
"Excellent. Let us begin."
Helfist tensed, ready to move, but Kemuel eased himself into a 'ready' stance, and waited. The Claws howled for the fight to start, but Vermund took his time, reading his stance and weighing his options. Kemuel couldn't help but grin. It was a mind game he was playing, plain and simple.
Eventually, Helfist realized that he would have to throw the first punch. He sighed and moved in, half-heartedly throwing a punch. Kemuel was on him, slapping the punch away and returning one in kind. To Helfist's credit, he was nearly able to put up a block in time. Nearly.
The punch landed dead center on his right eye, at the center of the radiating tribal tattoo, sending him spinning. Kemuel moved in, keeping the distance close, as Helfist retaliated with a kick, which Kemuel deftly blocked. He pressed the wolf, pushing him around the cage, landing hit after hit. Try as he might, Helfist couldn't land a retaliatory blow. The Claws soon went from yelling for a fight to yelling for poor Helfist on his feet.
For a Space Marine, he was doing remarkably well; he wasn't completely dismantled by the attack. Helfist kept his form up, throwing counter punches and kicks with practiced speed and technique. If Kemuel wasn't a Custode, he would be off-put by it.
Eventually, Helfist was driven to his knees from the flurry of blows. Blood leaked from his nose and mouth.
"Have you had enough?" Kemuel asked.
"I still got one punch for you," Helfist groaned, spitting out blood as he stood up.
"Very well." And the beating continued.
Once more, Kemuel had to give Vermund credit; he kept his defenses up despite getting the stuffing knocked out of him. But eventually the beatings wore him down. His right eye began swelling shut, his left leg soon gave out, and the ribs on his right side appeared to be broken, for he cherished his side. The Claws begged him to fight back.
"This fight is at an end," Kemuel said. "Please, for your sake, stop."
"Just on punch," Helfist mumbled.
"Stubborn to the end," Kemuel sighed. He took a step forward to land a knock-out blow. He lashed out, connecting with Helfist's temple. At least, he thought he did.
At the last second, Vermund ducked. He pushed off on a leg that was feigning pain, opening his eye that Kemuel thought swollen shut, and lashed out with all him might, hitting Kemuel square in the jaw, cracking his head back.
He responded with his own counter-punch, lying the psyker down for good. Kemuel was rubbing his jaw when he realized that Helfist was laughing.
"Got that one punch," he mumbled. "I win."
"You did not win."
"But I got that punch," he laughed. He held up one shaking finger. "That's all I wanted to get in."
"You were beaten squarely. How is that a win?"
"It's a moral victory," Vermund slurred. The Claws entered the cage to drag him out. "Want to go again, some other time?"
Kemuel realized that he was seeing stars, and the room seemed to tilt. He tried shaking it off, but they persisted.
"No, I think one fight was a good enough bout."
"Oh, good. Don't want to get beat that badly again."
The Claws carried him out of the room. When he was alone, Kemuel tried to shake out the stars that clouded the outside of his vision. He had to admit, it felt good to be able to get into a fight for once. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad being around the Wolves.
The dining hall was truly quiet for once.
Aside from the omnipresent chatter coming from the Space Wolves table and the odd Sisters that joined them, the entire hall was incredibly quiet. It struck Geist as strange. Normally there was more energy at meal times.
Sitting in her assumed form among the Sisters, she picked up her empty plate of food.
"Thank you for your company, Sisters," she said, "but I must return to prayer."
"Walk with the Emperor," they recited.
"May you ever stay in His Light."
Taking a quick look at the meal hall, she spotted her query. Maeva was picking at her food. Again. She would have to talk to her about maintaining the correct nutritional diet. Geist guessed that it would take nearly ten minutes and twelve seconds for her to finish and return her plate to be washed. With those ten minutes to spare, she idly walked through the halls of the monastery. Alone, she could collect her thoughts.
For the past few weeks, Maeva had been uncharacteristically reserved. Was this a kind of seasonal affective disorder that affected the natives of Fenris? Geist ignored the possibility that Maeva might be withdrawing from society and possibly falling into the embrace of Chaos. Her conditioning made her acknowledge the possibility, and it filled her with…with…with something, some feeling she never felt before and couldn't place. It wasn't fear, that was burned out of her, but it was something like it.
After walking for ten minutes and ten seconds, Geist found herself approaching the door to the meal hall. She held her breath as she drew closer to the door. When Maeva nearly bumped into her at ten minutes and fifteen seconds, Geist was easily able to avoid her, but made a show of nearly hitting her.
"Oh! My apologies."
"Fekke, don't fuckin' do tha'," Maeva cursed. "Nearly got my heart ta stop beatin'."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."
"Na, it's fine," she said. "Was just headin' ta bed."
Geist blinked. Maeva was usually drawn to Sisters with red hair and big breasts; it was the very reason she fashioned her disguise as one. That was nearly twelve full days of erratic behaviors. Geist wanted to believe that Maeva couldn't possibly be a traitor, but her conditioning was clear: such extended behaviors were a sign of possible indoctrination into a chaos cult. She had to be protected, or eliminated. Geist would never forgive herself if something were to happen to Maeva, so she chased after her.
"Are you well and good?" She asked.
"Wha? Yea, I'm fine, eh? Just tired."
"This one is worrying about you," Geist said, breaking character.
"Wha? Geist, tha' ya? Dammit. Wha's wrong?"
"You have been acting differently for the past several days. Ignoring attractive Sisters and this one, taking meals in private, and refraining from talking."
"Okay, this is kinda private. Can we talk in my room?"
"Of course," Geist said, keeping the excitement from her voice.
Geist let Maeva lead them back to her room. Geist was glad that Maeva no longer got lost, although it did make 'running into her' a bit more difficult. When they were in Maeva's room, the Fenrisian kaerl locked the door.
"Do you want to be the dominant one this time?" Geist asked. "This one greatly enjoys those encounters."
"It'd be nice ta, but I gotta tell ya somethin'," Maeva said. "I'm pregnant."
"Pregnant? This one does not understand."
"Remember when I told ya 'bout my friend who don't like women? Th' one who's in ta men? Well, he sent me some of his…man stuff. He kept up his end a th' bargin, I gotta keep up mine."
"You are with child?"
"Yea, an' it's really fuckin' with me. Been throwin' up a lot, an' food tastes all fucked now."
Inwardly, Geist sighed; Maeva wasn't falling to Chaos. Her conditioning relented, and she could truly enjoy being with her.
"How far along are you?"
"Nearly three weeks."
Geist realized that she was staring at Maeva, and not because of her usual attraction to her.
"This one…she realizes that she has not seen a woman pregnant before."
"How did ya have kids?"
"The vita-womb. The only know use of cloning technology in the Imperium."
"Damn. Creepy shit, even if it gives me a whole army of ya. Well, yer gonna have yer hands full with one not 'fore long. I remember my ma gettin' with child. She got moody fer a while."
"Can this one…help, in any way?"
"Of course. Why ya have ta ask?"
"Pregnancy is outside of this one's circle of experiences and expertise. But this one would like to help you." She left out 'protect you.' Maeva got angry when she said 'protect.'
"Damn, if ya got a way ta transfer all these mornin' fuckin' sicknesses, I'd love ya 'till the stars went out."
"What can this one do?"
"Right now, nothin'. Maybe hold me; been feelin' really strange an' lonely fer a while."
"For you, anything."
Geist gently grabbed Maeva's hand and hugged her close. She knew that it was impossible to feel anything growing in her stomach, but for some reason, Geist felt that there was something big and great growing inside Maeva. For some reason, it gave her pause.
Lynia walked through the massive, newly-reorganized forge. Tech priests were pouring over a few of the Cataphractii suits that were kept as examples. She heard bickering, both in High Gothic as well as in Binary as the men and women tried to make sense of the work that was presented to them. She made her way to Aevar's private room, knocking before pushing the door open.
"Making yourself right at home, aren't ya?" Aevar asked. He was standing at his work table, peering down at what looked like a circuit board. His servo-arms were up, and were busy soldering things to the board.
"Seeing as this is our retreat that you have the pleasure of using, I say that I'm within my right to enter as I see fit," she said. "Unless, of course, you're hiding something from us."
"From you? Never," Aevar smiled. He pushed away from the work table, turning to face her. "So, what can I do for you today, Lynia?"
"I have received a message from the Fabricator-General and the Inquisition."
"When are our executions?"
"You put no faith in the High Lords of Terra?"
"I don't put a lot of faith in anything. Especially when the Inquisition is involved."
"What was that about not having faith?" Lynia asked, eyes narrowing.
Aevar groaned.
"Next time you see Parsef, ask him about 'Ork snipers.'"
"Orks don't have snipers."
"Exactly." Aevar ignored her perplexed look. "So, what does the Mechanicus say?"
"It is about the Cataphractii armor that you have made. But Ork snipers?"
"Don't worry about it. You're on the Inquisition's good side; maybe he'll give you something resembling a straight answer. Have the Mechanicus made any progress making the armor themselves?"
"No, they haven't. It appears that whatever you did to build them, no one else can duplicate it."
"Wait, really? You're shitting me."
"I shit you not. The Fabricator-General has been fighting the High Lords of Terra as well as the Inquisition. The details weren't given to me, but with the help of the still-slighted Ecclesiarchy, they were able to convince the Inquisition and High Lords to be more pragmatic than they are vengeful: the relics that you make are too valuable to simply pass by."
"Tell me something I don't know."
"Very well. There were many Inquisitors that lobbied to change the terms of your imprisonment."
"Alright, now you're shitting me."
"Again, I shit you not," Lynia smiled. "The Blood Ravens have given their report, and sing your praises; your armor has been used to turn the tide on many battles, turning defeat into victory. They've held off Ork invasions of Shrine Worlds to saving Hive Cities from the terrors of the warp. It's been enough to bring some Inquisitors to your defense. They're young and radical, to be sure, but they're Inquisitors none-the-less.
"Simply put, they work too well for you to be thrown away, and more are needed. You'll be required to make as many suits, blades and anything else that you can. The wars of the Imperium are, of course, never ending; any work you make will go towards the war efforts."
"Damn, didn't expect to be living this long," he mumbled. "Fekke, don't this just beat all? Might even have time for 'that.'"
"'That?'"
"Don't worry about 'that.' It involves Legato and a lot of gene-work."
"Then I'll let it be," Lynia said. "Also, it appears that Maeva's with child. How has this happened?"
"The usual way, I guess," Aevar said with a shrug and a barely withheld grin. "Found a man she was willing to put up with and was able to get his seed in her."
"That's not what I meant," Lynia groaned. "Was she…forced upon? I know that we have a few men in the convent, but we haven't heard of any such…unsavory crimes."
"Don't worry 'bout that. Any man that is here has been a perfect gentleman."
"Didn't know you'd know gentlemanly behavior," she laughed.
"We're full of surprises," Aevar smiled. "A friend from Fenris sent her his…well, you know. They have an agreement; they'd put together a child to help the tribe grow."
"Interesting. Given her popularity with a few of the Sisters, they've taken her well-being to heart. She seems to have a way of being liked."
"Or five reasons," he said, wiggling his fingers.
"Sorry?"
"Never mind. No need to go on a manhunt. Besides, if anyone touched her without her wanting them to, you'd be picking up pieces of them from the floor."
"So I've heard," Lynia said. "But I have to ask; why did her friend send her…you know. Do Fenrisians see it as the woman's duty to carry children?"
"Of course. A woman's duty is to carry children, and it's the man's responsibility to give them children."
"I didn't take you for one to say that a woman's responsibility is to have children."
"Come on, women have children, men give children. Unless you heard of a man giving birth, have you?"
"Can't say that I have."
"Pity. It'd make carrying on the tribe that much easier," he said. "Everyone has a responsibility to help the tribe endure. So, women carry children, and men give them."
"And it's the woman's responsibility to raise them, too?" Lynia asked, a hard edge creeping into her voice.
"Of course. They'd be pretty bad parents if they didn't, would they?"
"'They?'"
"The man, too. Didn't forget about him, did you?"
"You hold the men responsible for raising the child?"
"Last I check, you need both a man and a woman to make baby. Be pretty irresponsible for both to be lousy parents."
"You're saying it takes both the mother and the father to raise the child?"
"And the village. It's pretty hard on the both of 'em, especially if twins or triplets popped out, you know? Besides, parents can't be everywhere at once. That's where the village comes in."
"It was…not what I was expecting. Your definition of 'family' seems very broad."
"Damn right. The tribe is your family, and your family is the tribe. Can't have one without the other, so you make sure that both survive."
"How strange to hear of compassion from a death worlder."
"Just because we live on a death world doesn't mean we're invincible, or can do everything ourselves. We have to look out for each other; knowing our limits is part of what makes us strong."
"Now there's wisdom from a death world; I never thought I'd hear it," Lynia laughed. "Well, let it be known that the Sisters are always helpful. We'll help her carry the child to term."
"Thank you. We'll have to start with some different hours. Maeva's gonna need all the rest she can get."
"That we can agree upon. I'll talk to the kitchen staff and give her preferential treatment."
"Damn, better food? Maybe I should find a way to get pregnant!"
Daybreak shone through the window, into Maeva's eyes. Groaning, she tried to roll over to get more sleep, but she couldn't roll very well, and the sun was very bright. She finally gave up, and slowly got up and walked to the window.
"Damn," she moaned. "Gettin' knocked up is a bitch."
"Are you unhappy?" Geist asked from the bed. This morning, she wore the disguise of a simple serf with dishwater blond hair.
"Hard ta be happy when my chemistry is all mixed up," she said. She walked to the window, looking out at the rising sun peeking out over the Hive City. "Every so often, though, it just feels…Special. Probably th' hormones an' what-not."
"Do you miss Fenris?" Geist asked, walking over to Maeva.
"Yea, I miss th' snow," she said. Geist put a hand on her shoulder. Maeva took it. "Th' snow, th' cold, th' food—holy shit, I miss th' food. Stuff here's too bland. It's like this is a dull world, no real flavor to it."
"But it is safe."
"Tha's th' problem. If thin's seem safe on Fenris, probably means shit's gonna go real wrong, yea? Better ta be in danger all th' time then lulled inta this."
"But the Custodes have finished their work to the embattlements. The retreat is more secure, and once Aevar and the tech-priests finish their defensive work, it will be the most secure residence on the planet, possibly the sector."
"An' I'm waitin' for th' shit ta go sideways," Maeva said, patting her belly.
"Can…can this one…?"
"Fekke, stop askin'." Maeva grabbed her hand and placed it on her large belly. Geist felt the warmth radiating from within her. She could feel the baby in her womb; she could even feel it kick. It was gentle, nearly gentle enough to miss, but it made her stop. Geist felt something in her stir, something powerful. But she couldn't figure out what it was.
"Ya alright? Yer cryin'."
"This one…she doesn't know." Geist wiped her eyes dry. "She is sorry."
"Stop apologizin'," Mavea grinned. "Yer doin' fine. Pretty good considerin' ya never seen a pregnant woman 'fore."
"This one never would have thought…are you okay?"
"Ugh. Just got a lurch in my gut," Maeva said, grimacing a bit. "Damn. Tha's a pain."
"Did you eat something bad?"
"Oh, shit," Maeva said. "I know wha' this is. Can ya be a dear an' call a hospitaller? Tell 'em th' baby's comin'."
"How can you tell?"
"My ma pushed enough babies outta her tha' I know th' signs. Fekke, there it is again."
Aevar stormed through the retreat, Helfist and Croan at his heels. Legato had to run to keep up. Tomes and bones rattled from Katla's head, shaking with every step. A few Sisters gave pause to the weapon he carried, as well as Croan's own ebony broadsword.
"She in here?" He demanded.
"Peace, brother," a hospitaller said. "We're bringing her up as we speak."
He pushed through a door, only to see Parsef standing with Lynia, clad in her armor, just in front of a hospital room.
"I was wondering if all Fenrisians stayed together," Parsef said.
"We're one big, happy family like that."
"Quite so. I find it interesting that the Emperor's Angels of Death would be so interested in seeing a life being born."
"Life is full of surprises, is it not?" Croan said. "Please, Inquisitor, this is neither the time nor the place to start fight."
The door behind them was pushed open, and a group of Hospitallers pushed a cot in. Aevar was surprised to see that Geist was walking with Maeva, and out of disguise to boot.
"Damn, it's a party here, ain't it?" Maeva said, breathing deeply. Sweat dotted her brow.
"How you doing?" Aevar asked.
"Eh, I'm alright, all thin's bein' equal."
"It doesn't hurt?"
"'Course it fuckin' hurts!" She yelled. Maeva groaned as another contraction hit her. "But it ain't 'gettin' my arm lopped off by a fuckin' warboss' hurt, so there's that, yea?"
"It wasn't a warboss that lopped your arm off," Aevar said, doing his best to hide a grin.
"Oh, fekke off! Ya did this ta me, ya bastard!"
"I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait outside," a hospitaller said.
"Don't die, I need your help," Aevar said.
"So good ta know ya care," Maeva snorted.
"Inquisitor…this one requests permission to accompany Maeva," Geist said.
Maeva stared at the black-clad assassin, and Parsef gave her a questioning look.
"Go with her," he said. "If the worst comes to pass, you know your duty."
"You order, and this one obeys," she bowed. The Sisters let her pass.
"'The worst comes to pass?'" Croan asked.
"We must be sure that she bears a healthy child," Parsef said. "Besides, from my reports, the donor's sperm was being carried through the warp. Who knows what would have happened to it during the transition?"
"This is a child," Helfist growled.
"It is still a risk."
"Lynia, can you please talk some sense into this madman?" Aevar demanded.
"Sadly, the Inquisitor brings up a good point," she said with no small amount of pain in her voice. "We have no records that would prove that the child's…unique conception would yield a normal, untainted human, especially given the degenerative nature of the warp."
"Damn, you can be heartless. Good thing I already like you."
"I take no pleasure in this, believe me."
From the hospital room, Maeva grunted. Loudly.
"Will she be okay?" Legato asked.
"Of course. The Sisters Hospitaller will take excellent care of her," Lynia said. "She'll probably be offered something for the pain."
"And she'll probably turn it down," Helfist said. "You don't know our women."
"Apparently, I don't."
Aevar shot Helfist a quick look.
"Run interference," he whispered Juvik. Helfist nodded, and walked over to Lynia and Parsef.
"Damn, our women! Let me tell you…"
Aevar turned back to the two other priests, and began talking quietly in Binary.
"Legato, think this will pan out?" He asked, chattering away.
"I-I think so," he replied, chattering back. "The test was fully viable, and it was able to gestate. I believe it should be a perfect human."
"That is good," Croan said. Like his regular voice, his Binary was a deep rumble. "If the child is born with obvious defects, we can never expect to leave this base."
Aevar peeked over Croan's shoulder, looking through the hospital door's window.
"Don't look now, but we got Custodes waiting for us on the other side."
"They are probably waiting for the birth," Croan said. "I thought I saw a team of Grey Knight standing around outside. Parsef is pulling out all the stops for us."
"Well, let's all hope this ends up well and good," Aevar said. "Hate to make Geist go through with her duty."
He meandered over to Helfist, Lynia and Parsef.
"Well, getting enlightened in the ways of our women?" He asked.
"They seem quite ferocious," Lynia smiled. "I'm glad to have met one."
"Yea, they can be pretty intense," Helfist said. "Good thing you only have one here. Get too many of 'em and they just might get the Sisters to—"
He never finished. Helfist's eyes budged from his head, and his voice turned to a scream.
"Vermund? What's happening?"
The Rune Priest fell to his knees, screaming and clutching at his head. Blood burst from his nose, eyes and mouth. He screamed so loud, Aevar nearly missed the screams coming from the hospital room.
"Sisters, we need Hospitallers here now," Lynia snapped, taking charge. "Inquisitor, step back. You too, Legato. If he thrashes, he just might kill you. Aevar, Croan, can you keep his arms steady?"
"Vermund! Talk to me brother, what's going on?" Aevar said, gripping his left arm, keeping it pinned to his side.
Helfist didn't answer. His voice broke and gargled as blood welled in his mouth. A team of Hospitallers rushed in. One ran to him and shone a flashlight into his eye. She had to pull his head up to examine him; Vermund was completely unresponsive; he was one giant flexed, screaming muscle. "Pupils are dilated, blood vessels burst. This…I think this is warp sickness."
"Bullshit its warp sickness," Aevar said. "He ain't a psyker, he's a Rune Priest."
"It doesn't matter what he calls himself, it's warp sickness. It's possible that there might be a warp storm brewing, or…or something that's causing a massive tear in the immaterium."
"What did you do?" Parsef demanded, grabbing Aevar's pauldron.
"What did I do? I ain't got a clue of what the shit is going on here," he shot back.
"My team of Grey Knights are suffering from similar warp sickness," he spat. "What foul tinkering have you done?!"
Aevar walked to the hallway. As the Inquisitor said, outside were a team of Grey Knights. They were all screaming, clutching at their heads as they rolled on the floor, blood leaking from their helms. Kemuel stood over them, his spear at the ready, but obviously unsure of what to do.
"What happened?"
"They just started screaming," Kemuel said. "Are we under attack? Is the immaterium forcing its way in here?"
"Better fucking not. We've been putting up runes of warding since we got here. Hel, we got the Grey Knights to help us; this should be fucking warp-free. I'm checking on Maeva."
He pushed the door open, just as the Sisters were coaching her through the birth.
"Breath and push, dear, breath and push."
"Get th' fuck out!" She yelled, grabbing the nearest thing she could find. Aevar ducked, and a tray of surgical tools narrowly missed his head.
"She's fine," he said, leaving the room. "How's Helfist?"
Almost to answer him, the Rune Priest fell to the ground. His eyes were blank, pupils pin-points. His jaw was clenched shut and his entire body shook. Blood, and spit leaked from his mouth.
"He's having a seizure," the Sisters said. "Everybody back."
"Should we hold him still?" Croan asked.
"No! You'll only hurt him and yourself! Let it pass."
Vermund thrashed, putting an armored foot through the wall. Now that he wasn't screaming, everyone could hear Maeva yelling. It seemed like nearly forever, but then, suddenly, a baby's scream replaced everything.
As if on cue, the seizure that gripped Vermund stopped. He lay on the ground, panting, still unconscious. The Hospitallers immediately descended on him, checking his pulse, mopping up the blood and pulling out smelling salts.
"What in the Emperor's name was that?" Parsef demanded. The door opened, and more Sisters ran to the aid of the Grey Knights, and Kemuel stepped through.
"It appears that whatever warp sickness was gripping them has stopped," the Custode said. He cocked his head to the side, hearing the baby's screams. "Is…is the child born?"
"Custode, I demand that you end that abomination's life," Parsef snapped.
"You heartless bastard!" Croan stormed towards the Inquisitor, but Parsef held his ground. "Is butchering a child what they teach in the Inquisition?"
"We guard humanity from the terrors of the warp," he spat. "And that…that thing has nearly killed an entire team of Grey Knights, just with its birth pains!"
Four armored Sisters pushed their way into the waiting room, making the room seem to shrink.
"Canoness Lynia!"
"Now is not the time," she snapped.
"I'm sorry, Canoness, but several Astropaths have died. It appears to be some kind of warp sickness," the Sister Superior said. "We don't know what caused it."
"It's that daemon-spawn in there," Parsef spat. "That whore goes into labor, and every psyker we have falls prey to seizures!"
"Helfist ain't a psyker."
"It doesn't matter! That monstrosity needs to die."
Aevar drew Iounn from her holster, and unslung Katla.
"Try it," he snarled. "You'll have to go through me."
"Me as well," Croan said, drawing his obsidian broadsword.
"Traitors," Parsef spat, drawing the pistol that sat on his hip. "Custode, they have chosen their own damnation. That creature needs to die! It is bad that a baby needs to die, yes, but it would be worse if such an abomination grew to maturity. If it can kill Astropaths and lay an entire team of Grey Knights low with just its birth pains, think of what it can do fully grown! We must end this here, for the better of the Imperium!"
Kemuel looked from the Inquisitor to the two marines. Legato cowered in the corner, a mere man against the super-humans.
"Canoness Lynia, I order you to bring your Sisters to bear," Parsef demanded. "These traitors have to be dealt with."
"I am many things, Inquisitor," Lynia said, "but a child murderer, I am not."
"What?!"
"I believe we are rushing to conclusions," she said. "We need to examine the child and determine what its nature is, not to condemn it due to…odd circumstances of its birth."
Parsef grabbed his vox-caster, keying the channel. "Sergeant Julas, do you read me?"
Loud and clear, the Ultramarine replied.
"I order you to bring your squad to the hospital wing. The Blasphemer has out-lived his usefulness."
"Has he?" Lynia asked. "As I recall, the Fabricator-General has explicitly said that any manner of his death will be investigated. If it has been found that you have acted rashly, the Mechanicus will be…what were their words…? 'We shall have words.' If I may add my opinion, the Mechanicus will not mince words, and may retaliate against the Inquisition."
Aevar shifted his stance, but a clear grin was growing on his face.
"How dare you? This is the fate of the Imperium!"
"I think I am doing you a favor, Parsef. Would you like the entire Inquisition, nay, the entire Imperium, to suddenly fall out of favor with the Cult of Mars?"
"Custode Kemuel! Do your duty!"
"I agree with the Canoness," he said. "While I am a simple bodyguard, I speak with the authority of the Emperor of Mankind himself; I cannot be ordered by you. With the agreement brokered between my Custode brothers and the High Lords of Terra, you can be given suggestions, but not orders. And as of now, I see no immediate threat, neither to the Emperor nor to the Imperium."
The doors to the hospital room opened, and Maeva was wheeled out. She was propped up on pillows, sweat making her gown cling to her. In her arms, sucking at her breast, was a simple babe. The Sisters Hospitallers were all smiles, and even Geist seemed to be at ease, unaware of Parsef's outburst.
"It's a girl," she grinned. "A perfect lil' girl."
"Geist," Parsef said.
"Don't you fucking dare," Aevar spat.
"That thing is an abomination. I order you to destroy it."
"Wha'?" Maeva looked up, confused. Just behind her shoulder, the black-clad woman stiffened, as if she was hit by lightning.
"What are you waiting for, assassin? I gave you an order! Kill that thing!"
"Geist, please," Croan begged. "Do not listen to him."
Maeva turned to Geist, fear in her eyes.
"Geist, please," she begged. "She's just a babe."
The assassin said something, but it was a mumble. Maeva stared at her, the only one to hear it.
"I order you!"
"This one…cannot…"
Parsef stared at Geist, mouth hanging open.
"That is an order, assassin. Carry out your order."
"This one cannot." Geist spoke as if she was in physical pain, like she was tearing off her own arm.
"Parsef, please, you let your duty get the best of you," Lynia said. "It's a child, it can do no wrong."
"A child born of ejaculate that has traveled through the warp!"
"Then she'll be examined," Lynia said. "Once the Grey Knights have recovered, they can examine her all you want."
"You can't give me orders, Canoness. I speak with the authority of the Inquisition!"
Parsef nearly jumped out of his skin when Helfist reached up from the floor.
"Please," he gasped. Blood, snot and spittle covered his face, the blood more so than anything else, drying a dirty brown. "It's a baby. Have some humanity."
Inquisitor, the vox rang out. You have not given the command. What is the order, Inquisitor?
"Get up here, Julas," he growled. "Watch over the wolves as we examine this…monstrosity."
The wolves are following us.
"Then keep them all under guard!" He snapped.
From the hallway, a Grey Knight staggered in, falling to the ground. A group of attending Sister Hosplitars were trying to keep him down if only for his own safety, but the Knight ignored them.
"Inquisitor," he croaked. The Knight pulled his helm off. Every time he spoke, he spat blood everywhere. "There was a, a great power."
"The man's delirious," a hosplitar said. "He must lay down."
"But there was…there was a burst of power," the Knight said. "Almost as if, almost—"
"Like we were staring into the sun." Both the Knight and Helfist spoke at the same time.
"Aye, so much fucking power," the Rune Priest mumbled. "All around us, forcing its way in here."
"It was like a soul binding," the Knight sputtered. "As if the Emperor was trying to pour all of his might into something, instead of cauterizing a psyker from the pull of the warp. Almost like a possession…"
"I will need to interview the rest of the Grey Knights," Parsef said. "Geist, get over here. Now."
"Please, Inquisitor, calm yourself," Lynia said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "This is the birth of a child. We should be celebrating."
"And let the wolves spirit that thing away at the earliest convenience?"
"It is a fair point," Lynia said. She turned to Aevar. "You and your brothers will have to leave the hospital, at least for the next few days."
"Aye, I understand," Aevar said. He slung Katla back onto his back. "Glad we didn't have to come to blows."
"A wolf, turning down a fight?" Kemuel mused.
"Ain't no shame in admitting I'd get pummeled. Don't want to end up like poor Helfist after his bout with you."
"Fuck you, greybeard," the Rune Priest groaned.
"Just want to make sure my kaerl is doing well."
"You will not approach-!"
"Go right ahead," Lynia said. "But keep it quick."
Aevar bowed to her and walked over to Maeva. He switched to Juvik.
"You doing alright?"
"Fuckin' scared," she replied. "W-would Geist have…?"
"She should have, but she didn't." Maeva stared straight ahead, as if she was reliving the moment both her life and the life of her babe had was nearly ended. "What did Geist say to you? When she refused her order?"
"She said, 'Fer you, anythin'.'"
"Time's up," Parsef snapped. "Step away from the abomination."
"Whatever you do," Aevar said in loud High Gothic, "don't make him the godfather."
Croan laughed, taking Legato with him as they left. Kemuel walked forward, towering above Maeva. She swallowed, but glared up at him.
"Worry not, I do not plan on killing anyone as of now."
"Yea, but wha 'bout a few minutes from now, eh?"
"We shall see."
Geist's heart was slamming in her chest as she followed Parsef back to his chambers. Oh, holy Emperor, what did she do? She had her orders, her sacred orders, her blessed, infallible orders.
And she ignored them.
But she had to. Parsef wanted to kill Maeva's baby, the very same baby that she felt growing in her belly, the one she helped bring into the world, the one she held for the briefest of seconds before reuniting her with her mother.
Her conditioning was destroying her. She never disobeyed orders. Never in the history of Krieg had a soldier disobeyed orders, not since the Purge all those millennia ago when they turned from the Emperor's light.
Oh, holy Emperor, what did she do?
Parsef would kill her, execute her for challenging his rule. Or he would send her away; she was still a Callidus assassin, she would surely have her uses.
Either prospect shook her to the core. She wanted to see Maeva, hold her, hold her baby, watch it grow. By the Throne, where were these feelings coming from? If Parsef ordered her, she would obey. Such was the way of Krieg.
But she disobeyed his order. She disobeyed it.
"In. Now," he snarled.
Would he punish her? Oh, holy Emperor, she should have just listened, but she couldn't.
The door was slammed behind her.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" Parsef demanded. "We could have ended that abysmal thing's life before it caused any more problems for us. Why did you disobey me?"
"T-this one…"
"Give me a good reason," he said, "one good damn reason to not send you on a suicide mission to the Eye of Terror itself! I cannot have a simple, damn assassin questioning my will!"
He couldn't know the truth. Geist didn't know the truth herself. Heart pounding, head spinning, she suddenly knew what would please Parsef, and keep her close to Maeva and her baby.
"This one did it to better her cover."
"Please, assassin, enlighten me," he snarled. "How does this 'better your cover?'"
"Despite her best work to infiltrate the group, she was treated like an outsider," Geist said, lying through her teeth. "The Fenrisians never grew fond of her. This one saw an opportunity to better her cover by opposing you. By opposing you, this one hopes that they will see her as a trustworthy ally, not a potential mole."
Parsef glared at her, but Geist could see him thinking.
"Yes, that would make sense," he finally said. "They hate the Inquisition with a near heretical passion. Of course they'd be slow to trust you, even after over five years."
Geist realized that this was the first time in her life that she had to lie to the Inquisition. That was heresy, or near heresy enough to warrant an execution. She felt light-headed, that she would pass out at any second.
"The Wolves see us bickering, and they'll think that you can't be too bad," Parsef continued in a deep recline. "And when we're close to the child-"
Geist held her breath
"—By the God-Emperor, I almost killed a baby," Parsef said, his voice breaking. "This fucking mysterious child…bad to kill it, but would it truly be worse…? I'm not one of those blood simple brutes. I'm not, am I…?"
Parsef looked at his hands, the very one which held his pistol. The very ones which nearly ended Maeva's life and that of her baby. He was suddenly realizing that his hands were shaking.
"Bad or fucking worse," he mumbled. He fell back into his chair. Tears dotted his eyes. "Throne, to think of what I almost did…Good work, Geist. And, and thank you. For stopping me."
"T-this one lives to serve." But she didn't serve him. If she served him, she wouldn't hesitate to follow his orders. If she served him, she wouldn't lie to him. Her conditioning was clear: the servant never disobeys the master.
But if she didn't serve Parsef, who did she serve…?
Kemuel stood at attention, a brother Custode standing by his side. The hospital lobby seemed small with them in full armor. The door opened, and Canoness Lynia entered, flanked by two Sisters.
"How does the testing?" Lynia asked.
"I do not know," Kemuel said. "The Grey Knights have been slow to come to their senses."
"This disturbance has killed several Astropaths," Lynia said. "I'd treat this with caution too. How's the new mother doing?"
"She has been her usual feisty self. The assassin has arrived, as well."
"Parsef really wants to make sure that babe does not open a portal to the Warp."
"Actually, Parsef did not give the assassin his blessings to arrive. Even if he did, can you blame him?"
"Not at all. But a child…it puts us in an interesting spot, doesn't it?"
"Yes," Kemuel said, "yes it does."
The door to the hospital opened, and all ten Space Wolves entered, plus Aevar and a recovered Helfist. They all carried things in their arms, but kept their weapons slung. Kemuel couldn't make out what they carried.
"What brings you here, Astartes?" Kemuel asked. "Looking to take your kaerl from us?"
"Hardly," Aevar said. "We come bearing gifts."
Aevar held up the item in his hand. He shook it out, and metal fell into place, dangling from a central point. Charms hung from fine, silver-like arms, showing a wolf pup, a double-headed eagle, an axe and shield.
"Is that…a mobile?" Lynia asked. "For a baby?"
"I sure as Hel don't need one."
"And you're giving that to the baby?"
"Where we come from, we give gifts, we don't hold onto them."
"Are my eyes deceiving me?" Kemuel asked.
The wolves each showed what they were carrying. Some held beautifully crafted wooden weapons; baby-sized of course. Others held up knitted blankets; one was even quilted. A few held smooth, leather masks, others what appeared to be booties and small, woolen baby clothes. Helfist himself held up a small stuffed wolf pup.
"You made that?" Lynia asked.
"Crocheted it myself," the red-haired Rune Priest beamed with pride.
"You crochet," Kemuel said, voice full of disbelief.
"Do you not?" Vermund said, raising an eyebrow.
"Why, in the name of all that is good and right with the Golden Throne, would an Emperor's Chosen Angel of Death ever need to crochet?"
"'Cus Fenris is fucking cold, and despite what you think of us Fenrisians, we actually don't like freezing our balls off," Helfist said. "Out there on the ice, you gotta stay warm, and there aren't any requisition points you can go to. You have to make everything by yourself."
"It looks like you have practice making crochet dolls."
"I learned from my father. He helped me make some when I had two young ones, back out on the ice," he said. A few Claws lowered their heads, undoubtedly thinking of their own little ones they left.
"You had children?" Lynia asked.
"We were mortal before we were Sky Warriors, just like how you weren't always a Canoness," Vermund laughed. "I loved 'em more than anything. But when the Sky Warriors call, when the gods come knocking, you have to answer."
"So you all just sat down and made all these…baby shower gifts," Lynia said.
"It takes a village to raise a child, so we figured we'd do our part. Besides, have you seen a pack of Thunderwolves when pups are born? Every wolf pitches in, playing with the pups, hunting for them and protecting them. They're part of the family, and they all have their part to play."
The door slid open, and Croan the Salamander walked in.
"I see that I am late," he said.
"Na, just got here a second ago," Aevar said. "What did you bring, brother?"
Croan held up another mobile. The charms on his mobile were of a hammer, many cute, doll-like salamanders and wyverns and a few anvils.
"Late to the party, brother," Aevar laughed showing his off.
"Dammit all, we should have planned what we were making."
"Na, we'll just put them all together, make one big mobile for the little brat."
"First the wolves, now the Salamander," Kemuel said, shaking his head. "Truly, the universe is full of strange things."
"Us Salamanders have always prided ourselves with being close to the natives of Nocturne, as well as the citizens of the Imperium," Croan said. "We mingle with the citizens, offer help to those who need it, and even offer our services as masters of the forge. There have been plenty of times where I have delayed weapon maintenance to re-build a farming combine, or re-shoe horses. I have even made plenty of toys for tots in the past; I find that it helps clear my mind."
"We have to step up our game, Sisters," Lynia said. "Otherwise, the Wolves and the Salamanders will prove that they're better hosts than we are. I have to ask, though: why the leather masks?"
"To scare away the malefactorum," the Claws answered.
"Fenrisian tradition," Aevar shrugged. "We need to break the evils of the warp, crush them, utterly destroy them, show them true fear, and teach them to never haunt us again."
"Well, we'll need to think of suitable gifts to give to the new mother and her child. Maybe some illustrated prayer books…? Come, Sisters, we'll have to plan this out."
"Can we give the child her gifts?" Aevar asked.
"Sadly, we are under strict orders not to allow you near neither Maeva nor the child," Kemuel said.
"Didn't you say that Parsef couldn't order you around?"
"It was either this, or Parsef would be killing the child."
"Even the mighty Custodes hate killing babies, don't they?"
"It takes a special kind of heartless to kill a babe. If one were to truly relish their ability to do so, then they have already surrendered their souls to the abyss of the warp."
The doors to the workshop opened, and Aevar, Croan and Helfist entered.
"How was the new mother?" Legato asked, looking up from the logic-board he was working on.
"Don't know," Aevar shrugged. "Kemuel wouldn't let us near them."
"But we were able to give them our presents, so that's good," Helfist said. "Come on, greybeard, that's a win right there."
"It would be nice to see the babe grow, as well," Croan said. "It has been too long since we have seen a child."
"Do all Salamanders fawn over children?" Legato asked.
"As much as wolves fawn over pups."
"So all the damn time, eh?" Aevar asked, a chuckle at his throat.
"That was supposed to be a rhetorical question, but now I have to ask: wolves like pups?"
"Of course! They're members of the pack," Helfist said. "Being mindless, insane monstrous creatures isn't good for anyone. If all they did was fight, then who'd carry on the pack when they were gone?"
"You wolves certainly are strange," Legato said, shaking his head.
There was a pounding at the door. Aevar sighed and walked back to the door.
"Well, this is a surprise," he said, a hard line in his voice.
"Have I caught you at a bad time?"
"Quite the contrary," Aevar said. "Have you found out what happened back there?"
Legato looked up. Surely his ears were deceiving him. He peered around Aevar's armored form, but sure enough, Inquisitor Parsef was standing there. Helfist and Croan looked up, and seeing who it was, they walked towards the door. The Inquisitor seemed disheveled. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were red, almost as if he was crying.
"They Grey Knights say the same thing as Helfist," Parsef mumbled. "They say it was like the Emperor was here, trying to burn away corruption, or impart a piece of himself onto a psyker. But a massive piece of Himself; maybe He was trying to put all of Himself onto someone, perhaps He was trying to put His radiance into the baby."
"Damn strange," Aevar said. Both he and the Inquisitor stood there, looking at each other, waiting for someone to say something. "Alright, I'll bite. What are you really here for?"
"I wanted," Parsef talked as if he was biting off his tongue. "To give you an apology."
Several seconds of silence passed as everyone stared at the Inquisitor.
"What?" Aevar finally said.
"I said, I wanted to give you my apology."
"For what?"
"For questioning your loyalty, and…and for threatening to kill the babe," he said, eyes turning towards the ground. "I have been unreasonably harsh in my criticisms of you, because of the history your Chapter has with us."
"And what the fuck prompted this?"
"Maeva and her babe have just finished the Grey Knight's tests: they're clean."
"Did the Emperor 'put himself' into Maeva's baby?"
"It seems like He tried, but the baby doesn't show any signs of containing the Emperor. One Knight even theorized it was a failed possession attempt."
"Fucking weird. Now, don't take this the wrong way, but I'm curious; what brought this whole 'apology' thing on?" Aevar asked.
"The Inquisition is supposed to follow the facts, uncovers the truth," Parsef said. "Having been watching your every move for over five years, passing every test, showing no signs of corruption, the facts lead me to a conclusion that I rejected.
"When I received the Grey Knight's reports, I cursed them; it was then that I realized that I was not following the facts, but my own desires. I wanted to find you guilty, I wanted to declare you traitors. I've been ignoring the facts, trying to support my reality, not the truth. I was so blinded by this need to prove you wrong, I very nearly ordered the death of a newborn baby."
"So…you're here to apologize for trying to find fault with us, that right?" Aevar growled.
"I am," Parsef said. "Do you wish to rub this in my face as well? Proof that the Space Wolves are beyond reproach?"
"Fekke no, I'm pissed."
"…I'm afraid I don't follow."
"Dammit, Parsef, I really hate you now," Aevar cursed. Now it was Ironclaws who was grinding his teeth. "Fucking damn you, being the bigger man. You had to come here to bury the hatchet."
"What do you mean?"
"Yes, what does this mean?" Croan asked, obviously just as puzzled as the Inquisitor.
"It means you just made us look like sniveling, whiny children," Helfist spat. "Carrying grudges when there are other, worthier foes to face."
"And you hate me for that?"
"You made us look bad for carrying on this damned vendetta," Aevar snapped.
"Then I made the right choice," Parsef said, a grin creeping at the edges of his lips.
"Yea, you did," Aevar said. "Damn you, Parsef, you got us good on this. But we'll get you back."
"How so?"
"By being the ones who never bring this back up," Helfist said. "We'll be more polite than you sorry fucks."
"I look forward to that day," Parsef said. "Just hold the Emperor in your heart, and I will remain as cordial as you are."
"Yea, yea, get out of here," Aevar mumbled. "I'm getting tired looking at your 'holier-than-thou' smug face."
"And…should I lose my temper like I did when I nearly killed that baby, could you stop me?"
Aevar was about to slam the door in Parsef's face, but he stopped.
"Aye, we'll stop you," he said. "And you need to keep us in line, should a daemon try to fuck us."
"My thanks," the Inquisitor said. He closed the door for Aevar, who went back to fuming.
"Let me understand this: by proving his maturity, Parsef has proved that he was better than you?" Croan asked.
"That's the thrust of it," Helfist said.
"You're truly a prideful bunch," Legato laughed.
"Pride? I believe 'hubris' would be a better description," Croan said. "You need to be better then everyone, even being more 'mature' then all else."
"Perhaps. Then shall we expect to see a war of politeness between the two of your?"
"Aye, that'll be right. We'll show him just how 'mature' we can be."
"I wonder: is it possible to kill by politeness?" Croan mused.
"Damned if we don't try."
Geist hesitantly, fitfully, held Helfist's stuffed wolf doll in her hands. Even in her Sister disguise, she looked painfully awkward.
"This one doesn't know what to do."
"Aw, yer killin' me, Geist," Maeva laughed, bouncing her daughter on her lap as she sat in her wheelchair. "Play with it fer her. She won't bite."
The assassin fitfully held out the doll. The baby laughed, reaching out for it and grasping it. She had wisps of black hair sprouting from her head, deep eyes that sparkled with gold and a wide smile. Her skin was darker than Maeva's, closer to a light mocha than anything else.
"She has a strong grip," Geist said, tugging at the doll. The baby laughed, tugging back.
"Quit testin' her, she's been through enough."
"This one is sorry. She…children are new to her."
The baby cooed as Geist bounced the doll in front of her.
"First time for everythin.' I remember when my ma popped out her new husband's kids. Couldn't have been more 'n ten at th' time. With all th' cryin' an' shittin', I never knew what ta do."
"Was the new father helpful?"
"Fekke yea he was. We take care a kids, yea? Part a th' tribe, part a th' family. If he was a scumbag, he'd be chased off right quick. Hel, he was even a good pa ta me; didn't mind callin' him 'Pa' after a while."
"This one is happy to hear that," Geist smiled. "Have you thought of a name to give your daughter?"
"Shit, I've been thinkin' a names fer th' last four great months, even thinkin' a boy's name if she came out different. Haven't found one ta my likin'," Maeva said. "What kinda names they got on Krieg?"
"Why do you ask?"
"All the names th' Sisters give me are too…showy. Too regal, like she's suppose ta be a chieftain's daughter 'r somethin'. She needs a good, solid name, nothin' showy 'r too fancy. An' 'side from it bein' a death world, I know shit 'bout Krieg, so might as well see whaa kinda names ya got at home."
"This one was given the name 'Geist' when she was chosen to be an assassin. Many Kriegers only get 'true' names once they reach a certain rank. As she has been told, our birth name are too complicated to say."
"'Geist' ain't yer name? Wha' is it, then?"
"Krieger Female Model 77e #51387."
"…Yea, think I'm gonna stay away from those names. Sorry."
"There is no need to apologize. This one knows that the traditions of Krieg are vastly different from the rest of the Imperium. But this one would greatly appreciate it if you continued to call her 'Geist.'"
"I wouldn't call ya anythin' else. Well, wha' other names ya know?"
Maeva bounced the baby on her knee while Geist thought. Maeva bared a breast, feeding her daughter.
"Laura," the assassin said.
"Laura?"
"Yes. When this one was selected to be an assassin, she was selected by Inquisitor Laura Kinney. The Inquisitor was the first non-Krieg woman that she has encountered, and had shown compassion towards her."
"'Laura.' I like it," Maeva smiled. "Hear tha', Laura? Ya got a name now."
Laura cooed, suckling at her breast.
"Come on, let's take ya ta see th' Sisters. An' get a treat while we're at it. Wha' do ya say, Geist? Think we can get somethin' from th' kitchen?"
"The Sister Superior who oversees the kitchen is very stringent."
"Let's give it a shot, yea? I'm hungry, an' who'd say 'no' ta Laura?"
Just looking at the gleeful baby made Geist feel warm and…and something. Something she'd only felt when with Maeva.
"Do you need a push?"
"Yea, tha'd be nice. Little Laura here ain't so little when yer pushin' her out from 'tween yer legs, I'll tell ya tha' much. I'm just glad th' Grey Knights let me stay in my bed an' wheelchair durin' th' testin'."
"They were thorough, but this one can tell that they were gentle." Geist stood, and pushed Maeva out the door. "This one is glad that she passed their tests."
"Yer glad?" Maeva laughed. "How'd ya think I felt?!"
Geist wheeled her into the kitchen, and she entered her Sister persona.
"Greetings, Sisters," Geist said, the polymorph drug changing the pitch of her voice. "Do we have anything for the recovering mother and the new child?"
The Sisters who were cooking immediately converged on the smiling Laura.
"She passed the tests, then," they said. "Aw, that's so good. How is she?"
"A beautiful lil' bundle a joy," Maeva said. Laura had stopped feeding, so Maeva turned her around to show to the cooing Sisters. "Though I could use a little snack."
"Emperor dammit, why does everyone think we can just hand out food if they ask nicely enough?" The Sister Superior hissed, jabbing a butcher knife into the wooden chopping block. The Sisters who were fawning over Laura suddenly stood ramrod straight, attentive to their duties. "As long as I'm in this kitchen, we stick to the rules, dammit."
"Come on, pushin' babies from ya gives ya a hunger," Maeva protested. "An' Laura might want somethin' special, too."
"You got breasts, don't you? Put 'em to good use," the Sister Superior said.
"Morkai's balls, fine, we'll get out of yer precious kitchen," she mumbled. "Come on, let's go."
Geist was beginning to wheel her out when the Sister Superior blocked their path at the door.
"If I ever catch you coming around here, begging for scraps, it'll be the last thing you do," she said with a snarl. But at the same time, she handed Maeva a wrapped sandwich that smelled of a heavenly blend of cooked meat and spices. "And while you're at it, get those fucking Wolves to stop hitting on the Sisters on duty."
"Hey, I got as much say-so over 'em as th' rest of th' marines," Maeva said, taking the food.
"Tell them anyways," the old Superior snapped. But looking at her, there was a slight twinkle in here eye. "No one gets extra food."
"Yes, ma'am," Maeva said, throwing up a mock salute. "Come on, Laura, let's get some spoils elsewhere."
Geist pushed her out of the kitchen, down the stone hallway.
"The Sister Superior appears to have a soft spot for babies," she said.
"Lots a people do," Maeva said, tearing into the sandwich. "'Sides, she's a baby. It's not like she's gonna grow up ta be a big, bad, galaxy-killin' monster, yea?"