"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another."- Anatole France
In all his years of life Thormund Tull had never seen such savagery displayed as he had on this day, and that was saying something considering he was leader of the largest warband of bandits on Headstone. How in the Emperors grace his leadership had been usurped by one man and his meager band of followers was something he would ponder for years to come... That was if he lived for that long.
Sitting on his ramshackle throne made from scrap metal and the various trophies of defeated enemies he stared down the man in the raggedy greatcoat who walked calmly behind his two cohorts as they brutally, almost rabidly slaughtered any of Thormund's personal guard still left alive from their coup. The woman tittered madly as she stabbed her knife into his most trusted Lieutenant again and again even as the struggling man stopped moving, and the man laughed as he used an axe to behead one of his enforcers and hold the head up to look at its stoic if deafeated warlord.
The two rabid dogs muttered incomprehensible babblings as they continued to go about their work uninterrupted by their apparent master in the raggedy coat. The man in the coat continued to walk unerringly forward until he was but a few feet away from Thormund, and then the strangest thing happened... He bowed, ostentaciously and with no small amount of what Thormund knew had to be mocking intent, but he bowed nonetheless. It threw the stoic warlord for a loop and he found himself suppressing an unwanted look of disbelief.
"My esteemed Warlord Tull, I must say I have heard so much about you, as a matter of fact any of the warbands we've been visiting over the past few weeks since landing on your lovely planet have had nothing but compliments to tell about you and yours. Of course it was usually of the 'Tull won't stand for this, you'll be anihilated,' variety right before me and my fellows took care of them that is." Raggedy coat spoke with his strange sing-song voice, something too soft to come from a man that had just personally had no less than thirty of the Warlord's best fighters slaughtered in the course of minutes.
Tull looked toward the man's two dogs, both seemingly playing with the severed head of his Captain as though it were a scrumball whilst they talked madly to each other. Raggedy coat followed his gaze a smile lighting up on his features as he saw what the warlord was looking at.
"Such good and cheerful beings they are am I right?" raggedy spoke gesturing grandly to his henchmen. "They were but poor lost souls I had taken pity on and rescued from a tragically destroyed planet. Got 'em off right before Exterminatus was called down, good thing too as they have been so eager to please ever since. Had to get them off their single-track thoughts of one particular blood-god...still working on that actually but I've already made a lot of progress...anyway back to business."
"What do you want offworlder, are you going to kill me? Because if you are stop with the talking and just get on with it. I know what you've been doing, heard the rumours from the other warlords before transmissions stopped coming through, if you kill me you take control of my clan by law, so just get it over with," Tull was not one for beating around the bush, he had not gotten where he was in the world by playing games after all.
"Kill you?" Raggedy paused looking around as though bewildered. "Why in this galaxy would I do that? No, no, no I'm going to need you, charismatic as I am, to lead all of the clans I've gathered together I'll need someone of native origin, and who better than the great, reveared, and feared Thormund Tull? Nobody that's who."
Tull thought quickly, a skill that had seen to his survival many times in the past, the conclusion he drew as he looked into the crazed man's eye's and then to his two rabid minions was swift.
"What exactly do you need me for?"
The man's smile was all teeth like a predator that had just caught its quarry. "So glad you asked my dear Warlord, first introductions are in order, my compatriots," he gestured to his two blood covered minions. "S'geck and K'lara I believe they call themselves, hard to tell sometimes what with the way they speak, and I...well you may call me by the moniker of Georgii."
Georgii closed the distance between them and sat on the right armrest of Tull's throne placing his arm around the stiffening Warlord's shoulders as an unnatural shiver ran down his spine.
"As for what I need you for my friend," Georgii gestured before them grandly at the vista Tull's lair overlooked from it's cave. "The world my boy, the world."
Thormund felt a tremor of fear course through his veins, under normal circumstances he would not be averse to gaining more power and influence, but Georgii just didn't seem quite right...
Dauntless looked up from the paper-work he had been occupying himself with as he heard the door to his temporary office open admitting Watchmaster B-63 and Corporal Jessmuck, the massive Catachan had to slouch slighty to enter his head just barely missing the top of the doorframe. Making it into the room proper Dauntless stood and walked over to meet the two his posture carefully schooled to present a strong presence, one that naturally read as leader. It was always good to be strong and confident infront of Catachans.
"Watchmaster it's good to see you back and successful," Dauntless clapped B-63 on the shoulder the tall man barely moving from the strong impact.
"Glad to be of service sir, would you like me to go so you can speak to Corporal Jessmuck alone?" B-63 responded curteously.
"No stay, stay, have a seat and a drink if you like while I speak with the Corporal," Dauntless turned to face the Catachan in question and held out his hand to the large man. Jessmuck took the offer and clasped Dauntless' hand, secretly surprised by the strength behind his shake.
"Corporal it is an honor to meet you, I've heard a lot about you and you come highly recomended by your superiors. I am Inquisitor Bernard Sander Dauntless, though Dauntless will do just fine for normal conversation, in fact I insist upon it," the Inquisitor spoke clearly with authority though in a friendly tone.
Jessmuck looked surprised for a split second before his face broke out into his normal feral grin. "I have to say I wasn't expecting to meet an Inquisitor today, only heard rumor and hearsay about you types."
"My friend, no one ever expects the Inquisition," Dauntless responded with his usual charisma.
"Ain't that the truth," Jessmuck barked out with laughter. "So Dauntless why in the warp do you need me to track, and what in the warp is it exactly."
Dauntless got quiet for the moment, though his pleasant smile hadn't left his face as he went back around his desk to sit down gesturing to the seat across his desk as way of offer to Jessmuck. The Catachan strode forward with two long steps and took the preoffered seat, the sturdy wooden construction groaning under his weight. Dauntless tapped a data-slate sitting on his desk activating the device before sliding it forward for Jessmuck to take.
"This is very sensitive information Corporal, know that should you look it over you will at the very least be sworn into secrecy, and make no mistake I have the resources t make sure you keep these secrets to your grave." Dauntless paused letting the statement sink in. "So, my first question to you Corporal is are you still interested? Because this is your last chance to get out."
Jessmuck's grinning face turned visibly serious as he looked between the offered data-slate and Dauntless, the survival instinct imbedded in his being from growing up on the most notorious death-world competing with his own jump-before-looking personality. In the end he shut down his instincts and grabbed the slate to find out what the big secret was, it was just a single image, taken with some low-quality camera, probably local.
However, the figure captured in the grainy snapshot of time was unmistakable, Jessmuck had seen its kind before during his tenure on another backwater Imperial world fighting a guerilla war against similar looking raiders. Tall and lithe, the body of a dancer, pointed ears barely hidden under a hood and a rather lethal looking weapon grasped in its too human hands.
"Well now, that is very interesting," Jessmuck leveled a stare at the Inquisitor. "You do realize your basically asking me to track down ghosts right?"
"Indeed, though from reading through your file I was under the impression you've tracked down these particular ghosts rather successfully before, a world called Mathias III if I remember correctly." Dauntless shot back quickly to throw the Catachan's pride into the mix.
"Yeah and you probably also read the part where my whole platoon was torn to pieces by said ghosts despite us having the jump on them. My finding them was really more luck than anything else...and by the look in your eyes you know how hard that is for me to admit that," Jessmuck placed the slate down and leaned back in his seat. "Some advice Dauntless, as skilled as you and your underlings surely are I'm not so sure you'll be able to take this enemy on. I'd say not to even bother with it, but according to your terms I'm in this now for the long haul, so where do I start?"
B-52 sat at his booth in front of the building the 82nd had rented for recruitment and processing on a crowded street watching as the people of Headstone and Guardsmen on shore leave walked by. He supressed the urge to sigh as he thought about the supposedly well put together plan the Korps had on paper to recruit new troopers. To say the least it was going abyssmally, at least for him, he had yet to meet his quota not by a long shot and only had been able to convince eight people over the course of weeks to join up.
Two of them had been homeless, three had wanted out of the rampant ganglife rife on Headstone, one was a local mercenary who wanted a more stable career option, and the last two had been drunk to the point where B-52 knew they weren't going to realize the mistake they made until they woke up at the base and were pressed into basic. Unfortunately most of the local denizens of Headstone wanted nothing to do with the Guard, he regularly had insults thrown at him, and a few brave souls had spat at him.
None seemed game to try and actually touch him though after he broke a man's arm and his knee one week ago. Unfortunate for him he couldn't officially go out and enjoy himself on his shore leave as he was required to recruit so long as he had not met his quota which was set for one-hundred souls, and that meant he still had ninety-two more to go...which meant he wasn't going to enjoy shore leave.
"Hey offworlder, what's the K-k-kooorpss," a woman, though just barely judging by her young face, questioned as she stopped in-front of his booth. Judging by the way she had sounded out Korps B-52 ascertained that she could barely read, a common condition on Headstone it seemed. Ironically his higher-ups thought this would help out with recruitment, though that seemed incorrect if his progress was anything to go by and the reports of similar results from other Watchmasters.
"The best the Imperial Guard has to offer, three meals a day, new clothes, a bed, and free travel throughout the galaxy," of course he was really playing up the positives, not many people would join if they knew the full truth of Guard life, especially in the Korps.
The girl looked thoughtful as she looked over B-52 sitting straight up in his well maintained and neat uniform, newly issued in fact just for his objective of recruitment. B-52 looked her over in turn, a bit malnourished and wearing what he had come to associate with the 'working-girls' of Headstone's capital, judging by the look in her eyes and her age she had been one since early adolescence. It wasn't really much of a surprise given how the planet was, but it still hit him hard...there had been a time he had a daughter, Baurin's destruction had severed that from him though.
"What are your thoughts about it girl, do you want to join up," he spoke evenly, jolting her from her now zoned out expression.
"You'd take someone like me?" She asked meekly in return, her eyes shifting to unbelieving in an instant. B-52 looked her over again, given proper nutrition intake and training she would be more than physically capable by his judgement. It was her mental state that he questioned, under normal circumstances he wasn't sure she'd pass the psyche evaluations, but to meet the quota he was given certain leniency with regard to that.
"That depends solely on you girl, do you want to join, or not," he shot back at her giving her the power to make the decision, that sort of thing usually got through to a person, gave them the chance to find their conviction. That's what B-63 had always told him anyway, and he was more of a people person...
Her eye's lit up as though she had just realized the extent of her own free will, but they quickly dimmed a moment later as she averted her gaze from him as somber reality set in on her.
"Even if you'd let me join... I, well I just can't," she said lowly her gaze downcast.
"Now why would that be?" B-52 asked, he knew the answer, girls like her had been owned all their lives, and said reason seemed to be making its way through the crowd right to them, though she hadn't noticed yet.
"Um, it's just tha-,"
"Hey Talima how many times do I have to tell you, close the deal or move the frak on. Besides you should know these freaks haven't been interested since the day they landed, I keep telling you to go for the regular lookin' ones Emperor damn you," the man yelled out as he got right behind her.
B-52 watched as the poor girl flinched and cowered visibly as her handler grabbed her roughly by the arm and began to steer her away from him and his booth. He also watched as Talima began to pull back and attempt to get back to him her head turning to look at him with determined if pleading eyes. Looking at her B-52 saw she had made her choice, and he was determined to see her become a trooper.
The man finally turned to hit her and force compliance, but his hand didn't make contact with the struggling girl, B-52 had caught the offending appendage mid-strike and was holding it back rather easily.
Turning his glare on him the man sneered. "Oh so you do want to have a go at her after all, should've paid first then asshole, now let the frak go before I cave in your face."
"You misunderstand, this girl was in the middle of joining the Guard, as such she has now become my responsibility. Unless you let her go and cease hostilities I will be forced to remove you from our presences," B-52 stated this as fact, something he was used to doing when he trained new recruits and conscripts.
"Alright offworlder you wanna play hero I won't stop you," the man let go of Talima and grabbed a knife from his belt with his free hand. B-52 saw the stab coming and grabbed the other offending wrist squeezing hard and twisting to make the man drop his weapon. When he heard the metal knife clatter to the ground he went for the finishing move headbutting the man right in the soft spot of his face and breakng his nose.
Blood spurted from his face as the man cried out, B-52's very hard Korps issue helmet had done significant damage. B-52 let him go pushing him away, Talima watched all of this go on not far from his right with wide eyes not quite believing it. He motioned for her to get behind him as her handler got back onto his feet, B-52 kept an eye on the crowd of people walking by to make sure the man didn't have any friends. Most of the people kept walking, some mostly guardsmen on leave, had stopped to watch, but that was all.
"Last chance to leave it be sir," B-52 gave the man his final warning. The man was thouroughly pissed, no doubt this sort of thing wouldn't bode well for his business and that led to his stupid decision to pick up his knife again for another go. B-52 obliged him and drew his sword-bayonet, the man was beyond reason though from the rage B-52 could see in his eyes and in that rage induced state he charged.
It was sloppy and B-52 had an easy time countering it by batting the blade hand aside and using his own blade to slice at the man's wrist. The cut was deep enough to sever tendons and make the man drop his knife again now unable to pick it up with that hand. B-52 didn't stop there though as he pulled the man by his hair roughly and brought his face smashing into his knee effectively knocking him out. He dropped the unconscious body to the ground and took a few moments to make sure the man wouldn't be getting back up.
Satisfied by his stillness B-52 sheathed his blade and backed away carefully to his booth sitting calmly in his chair, Talima looked on from him to the unconscious body of her handler. After a few moments she walked over to him and with a look in her eyes that told him she was ready finally spoke.
"I'd like to join up," she said with conviction.
B-52 smiled behind his mask as he reached toward a stack of forms grabbing one along with a pen. "If you'd please make your mark here, here, and here."
Talima nodded taking the pen gingerly and looking at the paper where he had told her to write, she put three x's in all of the indicated spaces haltingly in place of a signiture. For the purpose of the form it would suffice for B-52, he would simply print her name under the mark later for the quartermaster's sake.
Looking it over once she handed it back to him he nodded. "Good, now we can get you set up in the building behind me, just follow the instructions of the men and women within and you'll be on your way to becoming a guardswoman."
Talima nodded to him before walking into the 82nd's requisitioned recruitment center behind his booth. B-52 watched her go, she seemed like she'd be a good candidate...he sighed finally as he turned back to the busyy street. Ninety-one to go.
It really should have been apparent to Fenria not long after she had met him and become so close, in hindsight it was very obvious Jericus...was what many could consider a bad luck magnet. From his tragic conscription into the Korps to all the times in their battles he had been injured or otherwise thrown headlong into the most vicious parts of the fighting.
Keck even during their training he seemed to get a hard time of it from the circumstances, or the Watchmaster. Now so as to confirm her suspicions he had gotten into his second fight of the day simply by accidentally brushing into some random Headstone civilian. They had been eating at some outdoor stand minding their own business when he simply turned at the wrong time and knocked into some thuggish looking type with a broken nose and a bandaged wrist.
For someone so adept at hand to hand combat Jericus seemed quite clumsy at times much to Fenria's surprise, but that was beside the point.
"Whoah, sorry about that maybe I could buy you something to eat?" Jericus had apologized offering sincerely to amend the situation. Unfortunately the guy had seemed to be having a really bad day, and being bumped into seemed to have been the last straw, that and he spotted their korps gasmasks sitting on the counter.
"You know I've had enough of you skull-faced freaks, think you own the planet now, why don't you get the frak off of Headstone!" The man went on yelling out in anger, a crazed look in his eye.
"Hey, serious-uulll," it was then that he actually managed to suckerpunch Jericus in his stomach, due to the combination of their off time, weight of carapace armour, and the rather hot climate of Headstone they had both forgone their usual armour being that they were just out on the town so to speak. This combination of events resulted in Jericus getting the air knocked from him.
Fenria then decided to end the situation by giving the man a hard left hook across his already damaged face, thus knocking him out for the second time that day, she had to physically and mentally restrain the urge to finish him off with a stomp to the neck...korps training ran deep, and tended to be a bitch sometimes. He went over like a sack of potatoes crashing in a dusty poof against the dirt street, the crowds of people barely batted an eye and the owner of the stand they were eating at merely shook his head before going back to preparing food for his other customers.
"W-w-wha-t was that guy's problem." Jericus wheezed out as he straightend himself to better facilitate the catching of his breath.
"You ask that after the way the Korps has always been treated by near everyone else," Fenria asked incredulously sitting back down satisfied that the man was out cold for the foreseeable future, and seemed to be getting dragged away by a few 'oppotunistic' looking individuals, and thus safely away from them.
"P-point t-taken," he sucked in a final deep breath finally evening out, his solar plexus feeling the lingering ache.
"With your luck it could have been worse, count your blessings," Fenria stated going back to her food, it was a baked sandwich of some kind, grox meat was a staple on Headstone...though she wasn't so sure it was grox meat thankfully Korps training had given her gag-reflex a slap in the face so many times that things like 'mystery-meat' no longer caused her any problems.
"You're right, at least I didn't lose an arm over it," he said flexing said appendage.
She gave him a look that said that that excuse was going to get old one of these days, Jericus was cognizent enough to stay quiet about the eye too. Continuing to eat their respective meals the duo recieved no more than a few stray glances from their fellow patrons and the proprietor of the food stand. Fenria looked to her grox-meat wrap yet again and picked up the local far taking another bite from it. Granted it had been a while since she had anything not cooked by some Guard mess-sergeant but the food on Headstone did seem to taste quite amazing, the local spices were very interesting to the palate..
At least as long as she didn't think too hard about where the meat came from...they hadn't seen evidence of grox anywhere on the planet in the weeks they had been here thus far. Luckily Korps training had left her without a gag-reflex, having pieces of people fall on you and eating the 'food' they gave out during survival courses helped with that.
"At least the food is good here, though I'm not really sure about what exactly I'm eating," Jericus voiced her very thoughts as he cut another piece from his mostly vegetarian looking meal, at least it looked like vegetables he was eating. Brushing the thought aside Fenria grunted in acknowledgement of his statement as she took another bite from her wrap the tangy food allowing her to indulge in the act of eating for more than just sustenance.
Wiping her mouth with a napkin she turned. "Certainly better than what the Guard gives us that's for sure, though I'm sure there's a regulation against eating local food," she answered him properly drawing his attention. Mid-bite Jericus had a funny look about his face, left eye closing slightly, augmetic eye lense snapping shut a few times in imitation of a series of blinks as synapses fired against his will. Despite the rather un-flattering look she found it very endearing, very like Jericus as she had started to come to know him without his mask.
He unconsciously flashed her a smile even as some of his food slipped from his mouth and stuck to his teeth, the sight was truely comical considering the source. Fenria laughed, something that was very rare nowadays, the hardend Korps grenadier slipped back into the factory-girl from Surris. Jericus, now aware of how foolish he must have looked, immediately clamped his mouth shut licking his teeth to get rid of the food stuck there though his lips remained turned upward in a smile.
"Well I'm glad to hear and see that you enjoy it so much, as for regulations I don't think we really have to worry too much about that given recent events," he said breaking her from her laughing fit. Fenria continued to have a happy countenance written on her features though as she went back to her food.
Within the course of a few more companiable minutes of eating their respective meals they both finished and decided that it was time to go about the rest of their day. Fenria threw down the correct amount for the food on the counter which the proprietor promptly snatched and they each donned their masks and helmets before getting to their feet and leaving. The crowded streets accepting their presence as they joined the mismash of people walking by and went along their way to the next distraction of their day off, whatever that might be.
Really they just wanted to kill the time before they would have to return to the base and set off on the mission the very next day. Having time to look around and actually pay attention to the crowds Fenria took in the culture of Headstone, it seemed a waystation for passing Guard regiments as the various examples displaying in the port-city's crowds far outnumbered those that were a part of their own liberation fleet. The vast amount of guardsmen around who were routinely rented out as it were to the planetary council for the protection of trade convoys made her wonder why the council had not simply asked the greater Imperium to bring stability and clean out the bandit clans that constantly harried trade routes and general life.
She banished such thoughts as she looked through the crowd picking out various Headstone natives clad in their piece-meal armour and wargear sporting various sigils, badges, and colors signifying differing loyalties to different factions of the immediate area. It was apparent that to attempt bringing stability would simply result in a disparate war that would only bring more chaos than there already was. Plus she thought ruefully that the corporations making up the council would most likely lose their power in said struggle altogether and such was the reason for the current state of affairs on Headstone.
Thus as long as the population was loyal to the Imperium at least vaguely then all would remain as it was and such criminal types would remain the dominant form of society and ignored for the most part. Feeling a long thought quelled pining for the lost stabiliy of Surris and her former life Fenria found herself sighing at the loss of such an unremarkable, but peaceful life.
"How about we take in the city from over there," Jericus suggested pointing out a rather ramshackle, as everything on Headstone tended to be, park and viewing area. It was complete with benches and a heightend vantage point where they could 'marvel' at the view of Headstone's capital city in all of its glory. The area was empty and the people flowing through the streets seemed to avoid it as they went about more important pusuits whether they be guardsmen on leave looking for a good bar, or nefarious bandits from the flatlands resupplying to go back out and raid the convoys which left the city for other settlements on a near constant timetable.
"That sounds like a good idea, I wouldn't mind taking a break, let's head over." She finally answered taking in the fact that her stomach felt much more full than it usually did thanks to the greasey food she had just injested and she felt an urge to take a break and let it settle. It was decidedly lazy to do so but she wanted as much break time as they could glean before their mission which promised to be a long and arduous affair.
Making their way through the crowd they crossed the threshold made by the moving bodies and the gate to the park just barely holding together inspite of the rust trying to overtake its construction. They continued on walking to the bank of benches set up to overlook the provided vista of the port-city, most were falling apart from misuse and disrepair but they found one that was still sturdy enough to accept their combined weight.
They sat down together as per the usual syncronization imparted upon them from their training, though Fenria allowed herself the freedom of a satisfied sigh as her stomach relaxed. Jericus likewise allowed himself to actually stretch out his back initiating a series of pops and cracks as his vertebrae realigned themselves. Other than the background noise unique to large population centers all was quiet as the duo watched over the streets, buildings and other landmarks afforded by the view.
Again Fenria watched the nigh hypnotizing crowds, multi-colored in their diversity as they flowed by in the streets below them, further out they could see the inner core of the city which culminated in some very sleek looking towers which justapoxed with the overall shabby aesthetic of the rest of the districts. Ships of a multitude of shapes and sizes likewise made pilgrmage to and from the main port nestled at the core with said towers as they ferried people, supplies, trade goods, and other cargo to and from Headstone's crust.
"Reminds me of the view we had from that square in City-32, minus the burning buildings." She said to break the silence as they settled. It always paid to remember that things like the view they were looking at though shabby and downtrodden could always be much worse, hold much more suffering, so it was in good judgement to take them in while they were still relatively pristine.
"Yeah, but the buildings we saw in the distance of City-32 were also probably around the same size as this entire city by themselves though." Jericus amended the statement reminding her of the major difference in scale, though at the distance they were at in City-32 it still bared resemblance.
"I didn't say exactly alike," she laughed out in response to his correction. "Same idea though."
"Sure is," he said right back.
Spending time in each others company like this was a very novel and quite nice experience to the duo, it brought back memories of a previous life. Before orks, before hellish training, before rebel uprisings, and chaotic horrors almost too terrible to face. Normal is what this moment was, despite the different and nearly lawless world they currently resided on and the guardsmen walking all around to remind them this place was anything but.
Still as she shared the quiet moment with what had become her closest friend, perhaps even more than that given what they had been through, Fenria was able to forget all of the hardships that led them to this point. Because this moment as a few others before it had was one that rose them above the struggles they had to endure daily simply to get by. Made her feel normal, as though she had simply met the man beside her at some cafe or market on Surris and they were out for an evening on the town.
Thinking about it if she had met Jericus before the conscription, before the orks, would they have gotten along as well as they had? Could they have possibly been meant to meet even before that fateful occurance? She knew he had changed, keck she certainly had herself and she was sure if she looked in the mirror now that she wouldn't be able to recognize who would be staring back. But it still felt as though the essence of who Jericus had been was still there, buried under the conditioning.
His subtle ticks, the things that had always told her he was scared even as he acted calm and walked into what most would run from had always differentiated him from her and most of the others. She could honestly say that she wasn't afraid of death anymore, that had been stripped from her, lost in her even breathing and calculating mind as she peered down the sight of her weapon. Jericus though, he frequently seemed to be fighting his instinct to run and instead of doing that he channeled it into a will to fight and live.
He survived his battles more than actually fought them, his struggles showing time and again a cunning mind ready to use any advantage he could to overtake and kill his opponent. And even when he failed, such as the time he lost his arm and eye, or when they had been captured he kept going with a stubborness that Fenria had found to be very unique to him.
These qualities combined with his decidely softer side as it were, such as the time he had decided to spare those civilians on Tartarius. Their first mission with the Grenadiers, Korpsmen they had been told from the time they had been conscripted would kill them without hesitation should they be found wanting. Jericus had defied B-63's orders, had let those people go and granted it had been at the behest of his old friend and B-63 had turned out to be not as stringent as had been advertised, but he had disobeyed orders.
Fenria had asked herself a few times since then why she had gone along with him, sure she didn't necessarily want to kill those people, but when she looked back on the moment she realized had it been up to her, had he not been there to decide for them she would have given those people the Emperor's mercy. The thought was not one she liked to dwell on, it reminded her of how much she had changed.
Veering back to the thoughts that had started this current mulling she found herself calming down again as the peaceful moment set in again. Thoughts that a normal woman her age would be having when she sat next to someone that had become very important to her in a multitude of ways all conflicting and yet blending together.
Reaching over she grabbed his hand in her own, despite the fact that the grip of his augmetic hand was a little tight it felt comfortable and she could tell that he had gotten much better at controlling its pressure. The action held warmth and gave her yet another flashback to the point where she had first actually had a talk with Xavier about his friend, and ended up defending him bringing up many of the thoughts she had about the man whom she had come to care for in such great capacity. Emperor life was one kecked up ride.
"It's really too bad that we can't have more moments like this one." Jericus sighed out as he took in the atmosphere.
"Yes it really is," she replied tightening her grip on one of the few normal things left in her life.
Pouring over previous battle reports from the Endurholdgun campaign Colonel K-856 consulted every ounce of battlefield knowledge and strategy to understand such a terrible waste of resources. It seemed as though the 82nd had been suffering a great deal of such wastes lately, though K-856 would be wrong to say that they had not always endured these kind of setbacks. If he were a lesser man he would blame such things on poor leadership, his superior General Augustus Flend came to mind.
However, he had to admit that the General for all of his eccentricities and severe differences from equivalent Korps Generals K-856 had served under that the man was nothing short of effective. He was not the most brilliant strategist, but he took the reins of command with a comfortable ease and inspired his underlings taking in good advice and employing it from his Colonels and other officers under him that could see the situation clearer than he could.
For that the General had gained Colonel K-856's respect, and even loyalty despite his strict adherence to proper code of conduct and battle proceedure that so often clashed with what the General had found to be the best approaches to the wars they had fought. Ever since the 82nd had been incorrectly deployed by the Munitorum to fight on a rebel infested world long ago instead of against an ork incurson in a neighboring system the General had strangely looked after the wayward regiment cut off from those it would usually fight alongside.
The 82nd had not seen another Death Korps regiment in decades of fighting since it had been misplaced and forced to get along with regiments K-856 had initially despised for what he considered inappropriate and cavalier attitudes to warfare. The Hoarfell and their use of strategic retreat had initially been very frowned upon by K-856's predecessor as well as the Randon whose exuberance in seeking death dwarfed even the Death Korps.
K-856 was uncertain that anyone other than Flend could have pulled together such disparate allies and made them a force of such effectiveness. But as had been taught to him when he had first started officer training attrition would eventually beat even the most skilled and effective of commanders. And if he were to judge by the casualty reports he read after every campaign K-856 would very well have to agree.
Even with the General's brilliant use of Imperial Guard rights of conscription to keep the regiments within fighting effectiveness it was still a downhill fall, sooner or later.
"Colonel I keep telling you to stop fretting over such things as those casualty reports," came the voice of Commissar Veris from the now open door to his office as though she had read his thoughts. Another odd one in the long list of them K-856 had run into in his career, much more casual about her duties than any Commissar he had ever heard of ought to be. He immediately got up from his desk to meet her at the door.
"Commissar apologies, however going over the number of troopers we will have to replace is of vital importance for future reports, and there is morale to be considered given the severity of our losses in the last campaign as well," he responded in hopes of fending off the incourrigible Commissar.
"I know for a fact that you have gone over those reports at least a dozen times, you and every other officer in all three regiments. You will get the same answer you've gotten the first eleven times and nothing will change, and as for the morale of the troopers as a member of the Commisariat I believe it is up to me to assess and correct any discrepencies regarding that," Veris replied back with her usual confidence and chipper tone.
"Yes of course you are correct Commissar," K-856 placed the reports down on his desk for the moment fully intending to get back to them once Veris had left. "Is there any way that I can be of assistance to you then? Or is this simply an unscheduled check-up?"
The Commissar gave the masked man a wolfish smile as she walked further into his office past him taking a seat at the small table that had been set up for his meals. Rickety chair creaking at her weight as she settled herself in crossing her legs demurely and helping herself to the simple pot of tea sitting on the table itself pouring herself a mug of the steaming beverage.
"Nothing of that sort, I doubt I could find you in breach of any serious protocol even if I wanted to Colonel, and we both know that I don't really put stock in a lot of those silly little regulations contained within the primer," she said taking her first sip of the tea. "Sssssh, now that is bitter something fierce, do you have any sweetener?"
"Afraid not Commissar, apologies for that," K-856 answered. "So then I take it this is simply a social visit then? Or is there something more pressing to discuss?"
"Can't a Commissar simply check up on her charges every once in a while Colonel? Your wellbeing and health are after all my primary concerns, though from the way most guardsmen look at me I can tell you that's not how they see it." Looking over her shoulder at him Veris could tell that the ever stoic Krieger was giving her what years of interaction had come to tell her was an incredulous look.
"Alright, alright I'll get to the point then," taking another sip of the tea she grimmaced. "There seems to be quite a decrease in the number of bandit raids on convoys since we've gotten here."
"Isn't that to be expected since we've begun sending out protection in exchange for port and shelter Commissar," K-856 stated the obvious.
"That was the initial thought, but the amount of success we've had isn't within reason Colonel. Despite their lack of conventional training these raiding clans have been at war with each other and staging raids for centuries." She paused to take another seemingly unwanted sip of her tea. "As much as we'd like to think that the substantial decrease is due to our efforts it simply doesn't explain why hardened killers have suddenly stopped going after their main sources of food and income in the span of a mere few weeks."
"So what is suspected to be the cause then," K-856 asked the obvious question.
"The General and I suspect that based on the reports we've gotten from scouting parties and those we've sent on protection and escort duty that the clans have been in the middle of some tribal war in a major attempt at a rather large power grab. The gist is that someone is trying to unite these clans Colonel and I feel I shouldn't have to tell you that if that happens even with all of the Imperial Guard regiments at our disposal that we would'nt stand much in the way of a chance at holding off such a combined attack." Veris said plainly before finishing off her drink. "At least not without significant preparation."
"Is the General sure that this is really the case? And what are the estimates of enemy numbers should all of this be true," K-856 switched to gathering facts.
"Well numbers aren't concrete, but hostiles based on planetary census would be within the realm of hundreds of thousands with mobile semi-armored transport and even limited air support to make matters worse." The Commissar finally stood from her seat to face him giving the Krieger a moment to take in the information.
"What is it that the General intends for me to do Commissar," K-856 asked resolutely.
Veris smiled her toothy grin. "Being our resident experts in siege warfare Colonel General Flend would like you to direct efforts to make this city defensible. We'll need all of the manpower we can spare so the 82nd will be taking the lead and directing the other regiments currently on leave to set things up accordingly."
"That will be quite the endeavor, how much time are we expected to have before the attack," K-856 wanted to know just what he had to work with.
"Two weeks at the most optimistic," Veris walked over to stand directly before the Krieger and reached into her greatcoat to retrieve and hand him a file. "All relevent details are in this folder, reports on enemy movements that we know of, capabilities, city layout, and much more than I care to explain. You'd best get started on this right away Colonel."
K-856 took the offered folder and immediately opened it to view the documents within. "As always the Korps will do it's utmost to ensure success Commissar."
Veris nodded in acknowledgement. "Good, because really this all should have been started a week ago." She turned on her heel to leave him waving over her shoulder at the ever stoic Krieger. K-856 watched her go for a moment before peering back down at the information he had to work with, he had a lot of work to do now, and much more to worry about than before.
"One more thing Colonel," K-856 looked up to see Veris stopped at his door a smile still on her face. "You better kick that recruitment drive into high gear, we'll need the extra hands."
She shut the door and left him to stew on her last point, the Krieger stood folder in hand looking where the Commissar had just been and taking in all that had been shared with him. Her last suggestion had been a good one, they'd need the city's population to be prepared for this.
A/N: Okay so got the length back to where I generally prefer it, just under 8,000 words of actual story or around that anyway so I'm happy with that. Now I realize this is yet more of what many may consider filler, but I feel it's important filler before the inevitable shtf scenario we all know is coming. As always kindly review and criticize I enjoy getting your feedback. And thanks to all the new favs and alerts.
Shout-outs:
Commissar Crititcal- Good to hear from you as always, please give me your thoughts on K-856's behavior, it'll be good to note if I painted an actual Kriegers thoughts well, I hope I struck the right balance for him.
Kamzil118- Glad to hear it, hope you've enjoyed this chapter as well, the next few will be getting back into action so hopefully that'll kick things up a notch in terms of pacing..
gwb99- Nope never, I'm determined to finish this beast now. I can understand the dislike for Catachans, bunch of rambo types portrayed as having a liking of fragging their superiors... well commissars anyway. Always seemed a little cocky to me, but when looking at their homeworld that makes sense because only the most hardy and perhaps not well mannered or even intentioned of people generally survive very well on such a world. Hopefully Jessmuck will be portrayed as an amicable soul though. I'm doing exceedingly fine by the way, thank you for asking.
Annon (you know who you are)- Glad to hear you've been enjoying my story, hope you continue to. As far as I know the sequel to 'living to die' is called 'dying to live' you should be able to find it easily enough just take a visit to the authors profile.
Imperial servant- If nothing else I enjoy diversity, and though I enjoy creating new regiments as much as the next author the canon ones have so much color and history to them already that it shall be a pleasure to incorporate them. Thank you for the review hope you're enjoying the story.
Alrighty then see you all soon, please review and have a good day.
300-709.
