Chapter 34: Scrutiny

I stared at the confessor for several moments before I realised I had to get up and return to my seat. He smiled warmly at me the whole time.

"You are not lost, you are simply travelling to a place you cannot see," he told me, and once again I felt like he was speaking to me, the real me, and not the character I'd built up for myself since getting here. Reluctantly, I returned to my seat and pondered his words. Was that something they told everyone? Empty rhetoric and blind platitudes, meant to soothe the soul? Then again, he wasn't speaking low gothic, and he had no reason to believe I understood him, but then again…

It must be something they tell everyone. How could they have something relevant to everyone who walked through their doors? They couldn't. Much like fortune tellers or seers or palm-readers or any of those sorts in real life, they must just saying something generic but relevant and let the person take it as they may…but if I wasn't meant to understand him, why bother at all?

I wasn't going to get these answers anytime soon, so I had to sit through the rest of the service in strained silence, mulling over what he said to me. But as much as I looked down on such things back home, I was, apparently, here in another universe, a real, tangible universe. Unless this was just a figment of my imagination and I was dreaming this entire experience while comatose, then this was a real place, operating on laws entirely different to those back home. Faith, spiritualism, mysticism…they were real things, tangible things, things that could the physical world. Had some strange cosmic force plucked me from home and brought me here? Was it the Emperor? Reaching through time and space, or perhaps even across dimensions, probably wasn't beyond his capability, but if he was behind this, why me? And what was I meant to do?

I had very little to go and very little sign about what I could expect from my future beyond a terrible death, sooner or later. More importantly, how much could I change? I was just one unaugmented human, one plain old guy with a slightly unhealthy lifestyle and a little bit of extra knowledge to help him along. What could I do to shift this universe in a better direction, especially since bigger and better men then myself had tried, and failed, to do so? Or was that even my purpose at all?
Perhaps I wasn't meant to help out, but rather find someone, or something, that could?

Then again, this was all blind, baseless speculation, and for all I know, I was reading too much into this, that there was no force behind my universe/dimension hopping experience beyond a mindless twist of cosmic fate, and I genuinely had no reason or purpose to be here…

After all, that I was here at all indicated everything about the forces of the universe we thought we knew was wrong, or that there was an entirely different set of rules beyond the laws of physics as we understood them. It might all just be random, chaotic chance.

Either way, stressing about that won't help me now.

The service carried on, with lots of speeches given in low gothic about hating the mutant, the alien, the heretic, and how to guard your soul against evil, and lots of blessing and prayers and praising of the Emperor. The priests would walk down the aisles and bless us with oil and incense and smoke, whilst telling us to be cautious and pious and faithful.

Eventually, after some religious singing where we made up for skill with enthusiasm, we were sent off, but not back to our barracks. No, apparently there was another place we had to visit. The medical wards.

"You will need to be reviewed to ensure you have no health complications that may arise during training," Alexei told us as we left the chapel behind us. It seemed a little silly that they'd only check that after we'd be training for a week, but I guess the Imperium probably didn't care if it lost a few recruits here and there before they made it to the battlefield. If they were unfit enough to make it through training, they probably wouldn't make it into battle. I bet they'd see it as culling the herd or some other sick shit like that.

"These medical tests will be comprehensive, so anticipate a long period of waiting," he said, without much joy in his voice. If Alexei sounded like he was bored just thinking of it, it probably wasn't going to be too fun. It was times like this that I was thankful to be the number two in the squad, because it meant I didn't have to wait around that long.

The medical wards were quite far away from the chapel, and Alexei kept taking us through dark, dreary hallways rather then head out into the expansive foyers and atriums and halls we had been through on our way here. Eventually, we made our way to a hallway that was brightly lit, with a peeling coat of white paint thrown over the walls and arrows marking the way to emergency rooms.

"This looks how I remember it," Desmond muttered, looking down the hallway leading to the emergency wards. I'd forgotten that he'd spent several days down here. Alexei said nothing and brought us to a grey hallway marked with green arrows, where other squads milled about in and out of various rooms. We had to push through several squads to get to our allotted room, which was the 63rd room along he right side.

It was quite a long hallway.

Inside, the room was crisp, clean, and surgically white. White walls, white roof, white tiles, white lights. White curtains divided the room into portioned sections and a bunch of grey surgical tables lined the spaces between them. There was a desk right by the entrance, covered in heaps of folders and paper stacks.

A few medics in Cadian camo patterns sat at another desk in the corner of the room, going over reams and reams of paper. A third desk in front of three rows of chairs blocked off the entrance to the portioned section. Navy bondsmen stood by the doorway, clutching batons and riot shields, dressed in imposing black and grey uniforms. They wore a helmet that completely concealed their face, with only a singular neon blue visor giving any indication that these were real people.

"Sergeant Alexei, of the Cadian 417th, 7th company, 3rd Platoon, 5th Squad," the sergeant told the man behind the desk, who had a hideous half-mechanical face and long, bony mechanical hands.

"417th…7th…3rd…5th, is it," the man droned in a wheezing rasp, flicking through the files on his desk.

"3rd, 4th, 5th…here we are. 5th, yes, the 5th squad. Practica folk, are they? Hmm, new recruits, extensive check-ups will be required, yes, I see. The first inspections. Alright," the man coughed, his skeletal digits clicking as he opened up some drawers and withdrew a stack of papers.

"Our ward is all set, we just need you to have your squad fill out these forms, then off to their inspections they'll go."

Alexei nodded, and handed us the forms. They were quite comprehensive, and rather invasive, but I filled mine out as truthfully as I could. There were quite a few questions about medical conditions that I'm fairly certain were actually just covers for asking you if you were a heretic, and more that were classed as spiritual diseases, all of which I wrote the answer I think they wanted from me.

However, when I realised I'd finished my form first, I hadn't quite processed that it meant I'd be sent off to get my 'inspection' first. Upon walking up to the second desk, which was manned by a woman who looked old enough to be my grandmother, with a rather stern expression, I felt a curious sense of unease settle on me. What exactly were they testing here?

"File!" The woman behind the desk snapped, causing me to jump. I handed it to her, and she snatched it away from me with wrinkled little fingers.

"Young man, you really must stand up straight," she said, without looking up from the paper.
"Sorry," I muttered, straightening up. She glared at me with furrowed eyebrows.

"Uh…sorry, ma'am," I added hastily.

"Ma'am? That's better," she huffed, eyeing my paper up and down with careful scrutiny.

"Your handwriting is tiny. How do you expect me to read this?" She snapped, waving it in my face.
"Sorry ma'am, I didn't mean to…"

"I didn't mean to? Young men like you never mean to do anything, you're a bunch of simpletons, you are," she grunted, "and I can read, and don't you think otherwise, it's just rude to make me strain!"

"Sorry, ma'am," I said again. She glared at me once again as she stamped my paper, put it into a rather decrepit looking copier machine, and handed me the warm, freshly minted copy.

"Hmph. Young man like you, so nervous around an old lady! Shame, shame on you. You must have steel in you when you face your first enemy, or else you'll run and hide like a coward. Witless cretin, just go on and get your check-up. Maybe they'll find some brains in you, lad. Room 7, boy, on the left, don't you miss it. NEXT!" She shouted, deafening me in one ear. Well, she was certainly harsh, but I didn't think too much of it. When are old women in the medical profession ever nice?

I walked down the aisle between the portioned sections, sealed off behind thick white medical curtains, until I reached number 7. Brushing aside the curtains, and another plastic sheet behind them, I was very surprised when I saw what, or rather who, was on the other side.

She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful women I'd seen here so far.

She wasn't especially tall or short, although it was hard to tell as she was seated by a medical bed. It was hard to see what sort of body she had, as she was dressed in medical robes and what looked like a rather bulky shift beneath that, but the outline it left was…impressive, to say the least. What captured me most was her hair, a thick mane of snow-white hair, seemingly flecked with silver, and her face, which was, to put it simply, angelic.

Somehow, I had the presence of mind to notice the emblem on her shoulders before I said or did something stupid, because I knew exactly what she was before she had even said a word.

A Sister of Battle. A Hospitaller, to be correct.

"Hello, soldier, praise be upon Him on Terra, blessed be his name," she said, in a voice that sounded as if it came from a heavenly choir. It was…sweet, genuinely sweet, with a hint of something shy beneath it, the hint of someone who was neither loud nor rough nor boastful. The hint of someone…gentle.

Woah, ok, leaning into that a bit too heavily. No need to start thinking so weird. You're reading way too much into this. Something was going on here, something odd.

I know Sisters of Battle are usually depicted by the fans as being beautiful, cutesy women, but they aren't in reality. Aren't they battle hardened, scarred warriors, not pristine, delicate little flowers? Something was definitely going on here.

"You seemed surprised. Expecting something different?" She said, in that intoxicatingly sweet voice. I realised I had been staring, and a blush settled on my cheeks.

"Uh, no, sorry, it's just, I saw the doctors, and they were uhm…you know?" I stammered incoherently, blushing further. She smiled thinly.

"Cadians?" She said, taking my arm and forcing me to sit. She was a lot stronger than she looked. I wouldn't expect a Sister of Battle to be frail, but she had a grip of iron.

"Uh, yeah?" I managed, thankful she had given me an out. Why was she so beautiful? She hadn't a blemish or a scar on her pristine, gorgeous face.

"Did Sister Bethany lead you to expect something different? She can be a little…brash, blessed as she may be," she said lightly. I blinked. So that old woman was also a Sister of Battle? That made sense.

"Uhm, yeah, I didn't know that I'd be…that we'd be meeting, I mean, I wasn't aware that we weren't going to be checked out by someone other than Cadians," I said honestly.

"It is deemed necessary for new recruits to be investigated by Hospitallers to ensure a truly comprehensive review, for we see beyond the mere battlefield of the body," she smiled, leaning over to look into my eyes. Her eyes were so beautiful, and her hair! Good god, her hair! She smelled so nice. She was definitely wearing perfume, and a rather intoxicating one at that. Was that even allowed? I thought they'd be rather strict about that stuff.

"I'm Sister Victoria, Hospitaller of the Order of the Diamond Shield," she said, smiling. I realised there'd be another period of silence from me. Shit. Come on, I've talked to pretty girls before. I can do this!

"Uh, Sent. Private Sent," I said, forgetting my fake name for a second. She smiled again, raising an immaculate eyebrow.

"No last name? No, you don't have one," she said, looking at the file I'd handed her. She reviewed it once over, her eyebrow remaining raised the whole time. She really was good-looking. Was this some sort of illusion? A projection, tricking me into thinking she was breathtakingly gorgeous. Or was I drugged? Or, perhaps, there was something sinister at play, and she was deliberately prettied up to get a reaction out of me…

"Well, let's get to it, as He on Terra wills," she said. "As much as it might embarrass you, can you please remove your clothes? It'll make this so much easier."

"Uh…" I breathed out dumbly. She wants me to do what now?

"Don't worry, I've seen it all before, just hurry up, I don't have all the time in the world," she smirked. Dimly, I was aware of myself unbuttoning my shirt, but most of me was distracted by how much I didn't want to be naked around her right now. Sure, I'd gotten used to seeing the girls in my squad naked, but usually we were all too tired or too exhausted to pay much attention to that. Here, however, I was not. And she was so very good-looking, it was hard not to feel…certain things.

As I unbuttoned my pants and pulled down my underwear, I made a point of staring straight ahead, and not looking at her in the slightest. However, that didn't quite work out, as I snuck a glance her way, just to see her reaction.

Very professionally, it turned out. She barely glanced down (although she definitely did, at least in my mind) and instead told me to sit as she attached a band around my bicep.

"Nothing to worry about, I've seen thousands of men from dozens of worlds in my time, and all men are but a reflection of the Emperors holy visage, blessed be his name. Men come in all shapes and sizes, big and small. I've healed more injuries then you can count. The human body in its natural state is barely even worthy of attention after you've spent hours stitching up someone shot by a deathspitter. Ever seen what Tyranid bio-acid can do to a man's organs? It isn't pretty, I'll tell you that," she said sweetly, as she went on to describe the horrific effects of Tyranid weapons on a person's body. That certainly killed off my mood, which I suspect was deliberate, as she glanced down between my legs as she finished her speech before continuing. I doubt any man could keep it up after being told what happens when your intestines dissolve inside your torso and melt your stomach open. No matter how pretty the woman telling you is.

"Your blood pressure is…a little high, but that's ok. Normal levels of stress, I'd say, unsettled in a new environment," she said, recording my results down. She then pulled out a syringe and jabbed me in the arm before I could prepare myself.

"Ouch!" I hissed. She smirked playfully.

"Big strong man, scared of a little needle," she looked me in the eye, expression sparkling, "honestly, men complain so much," she said.

"It hurt," I said pathetically. She just laughed.

"I got shot in the leg by an Ork once. That hurt, but I sought out His strength, and my faith was rewarded. A needle is nothing. Your faith will see you through these hardships. Alright, let me take your breathing," she said, pulling out a stethoscope and placing it on my chest. She dropped the smile as she listened to my breath for several moments.

"That's all good to hear. You say you've had breathing troubles before?" She said, looking over my notes.

"As a kid, yes," I told her, finally settling down now that we were slipping into medical talk.

"Hmm, you've recovered from that, then. Do you smoke?" She asked me. I shook my head.

"Right, let me take a few more tests," she said, then proceeded to bother me with a series of injections, blood tests, throat, ear, eye and nose inspections, reflex tests, sight tests, hearing tests, tastes test (very unpleasant) and a whole slew of questions of various ailments or issues she insisted she needed to check I didn't have.

She told me to stand, then pocked and prodded me all over with various metal bits and pieces, testing muscle strength, measuring limb strength, resistance, feeling for tensions, weakness, sprains, twists and breaks. She asked me if I'd ever broken a bone, and if so, what ones, and how, and when, and what treatment I'd received for them.

She examined my hair for lice or nits or other stuff, she examined my nails, my eyelashes, and other parts best left unmentioned. She told me I was exceptionally clean. She took tests which (somehow) measured my internal health, scans with augur devices on her arm, measuring the health of my organs, my lungs, heart and stomach. She tutted when she identified some internal issues with my stomach and said I needed a better diet. Well, that was likely true, but it was a little pointless to tell that to someone who had no control over their diet, wasn't it?

Then we got to the really awkward part.

"Alright, what's next? Sexual health, yes, that makes men nervous," she smirked.

"I can't imagine why," I said plainly, and she laughed. What a sweet sound. She looked over my notes, then turned to me.

"Right, so you're not a virgin, according to this," she said, tapping my notes. I nodded.

"No, I am not," I reassured her. I don't know why I bothered.

"Yes, well, you say that, but men are known to lie about this stuff. Are you a virgin?" She repeated, seriously.

"No, I'm not," I reaffirmed her. The answer came out before I realised it. She nodded.

"You've had multiple partners?" She said.

"Yes," I said plainly. I didn't like speaking about this stuff with strangers. What followed was an awkward and embarrassing conversation (for me, at least) about my past experiences and a rather thorough interrogation to ensure I observed healthy practises the whole way through. I had no idea how much of this was actually relevant to my health as a soldier, but she was very insistent we get through it, and seemed to be growing frustrated at my awkwardness. What can I say? It's hard to keep your composure when a very pretty woman is asking questions about your sex life as plainly you would the weather.

Eventually, she leaned in, inspecting my eyes closely, and then leaned back, nodding.

"His wisdom imbues you. It seems you have maintained a sensible approach to these matters. No discrepancies here. You have behaved more sensible then many men your age have. You are a virtuous man," she said, still staring me in the eye. I was growing uncomfortable with the proximity.

"Plus, I can see you're sexually attracted to me," she said simply, causing me to lean back, as though stung.

"Woah, woah, woah, where did that come from?" I said, even thought it was rather obvious.

"If you must know, aside from the obvious physical indicators such as your…endowment, shall we say, your pupils have been dilated and your face has been flushed ever since you stepped inside. I knew long before you took your clothes off," she explained smoothly. I blinked. Was it really that obvious?

"We are all human, blessed by the Emperor, praise be his name. Don't be ashamed," she said, turning back to her desk and taking some more notes down, "I am not unaware of the fact I am by most standards an attractive woman. It was why I was chosen to administer these tests. Not only a men calmer around attractive women, it provides a chance to test them psychologically. There is no shame to be had in a young man of your age finding a woman such as myself physically attractive. Honestly, I'd me concerned if you weren't aroused. A lack of sexual arousal in an otherwise healthy and sexually inclined male can be indicative of other problems. As it stands, you are a perfectly healthy male for your age," she told me, eyeing me up and down.

"Plus, while I am unaware of the cultural practises of your world, the Ecclesiarchy maintains a stance that sexuality is a natural part of humanity, and so long as it is not harmful, it is permissible. If it makes you feel any better, I do not feel dishonoured or offended for having seen you naked, it is merely a part of my job, and you should not feel ashamed or embarrassed for how you have conducted yourself around me. Trust me, I've worked with Mordians, who are so very insistent on protecting the honour of a poor woman such as myself. Or the Death Korps of Krieg! Oh, getting them to strip naked is a harder task then getting a Tech-priest to speak plainly!" She scoffed loudly.

"Trust me, you have no need to worry. Look, if you have any reservations about the Ecclesiarchy's official positions on sex, sexuality and nudity I've got some literature here that can help you out. The Emperor sends us to guide his people, after all. You know what, I'm going to give this to you anyway. You're in a mixed gender squad, yes? I think it'll do you some good to be reminded that the Ecclesiarchy places service above personal indulgence. Just in case you, or anyone gets any ideas. Here, just give me a moment to find them…"