I truthfully can't recall much of my time in medical or the time back. I think they shot me up with drugs several times, and I can only remember snippets as I stand here in the garage yet again. I remember painful swings, long periods of sleep, and a feeling of weightlessness. Like I was on laughing gas or something for an entire week. My legs are wobbling right now just thinking about the feeling. I don't know what they pumped into me, but I guarantee I would fail any drug test for a job for the rest of my life. The whole haze I was in felt wrong to just forget, but that's the miracle of Imperial medicine, I guess.

Standing in the garage trying to think on what the hell happened allowed someone enough time to sneak up in front of me and ask me, "You're back, Ali?"

Geesh! Can't you see when someone's trying to recall the past week of their life? Rude. "Yeah. I'm looking for… Uh… Hiza. Sarge said I'm on patrol with him, I think. And a gun. I need my gun." I remember, they made me drop off my rifle. They let me keep this damned knife with a bent tip. Thanks, guys.

"Oh. Yeah, Hiza's upstairs. He's in the munitions office. Apparently, he had orders to wait there the… Whatever, get to it," the guy puts a hand to his head, and turns away from me, walking away.

God, I forgot how rude people were. I thought more people would be lining up to tell me hello. Not all of you at once, now! Although… Those two were probably liked. So was the Sergeant. I guess that was my fault, huh?

Yeah, yeah, let's skip the gazes. Time to go upstairs to the office that Mushad decided to commandeer. As I made my way across the room, I could audibly hear the silence that grew as I took every step. I don't even know if I took a shower that whole week! Oh man, I'd smell really bad, huh? Don't people sweat a lot when they are on drugs?

Yeah, let's just avoid all the gazes of everyone. I won't look at any. Just keep my eyes focused on the door.

That's when my ears pick up someone saying, "The freak's outta the hospital, huh?"

My eyes scan the room, my feet automatically stopping in their tracks. I try to see who the hell said that. I'm on important business, but I can make time for beating somebody's ass. You can say anything you want behind my back, you'd do that anyways, assholes, but now you're saying it out loud. I hate that word. 'Freak'. Do you think I wanted to be born like this? I can't control my height. I can't control my odor. I can't do anything, man. I'd beat that into you, if I knew which one of you said that.

After around fifteen seconds, I let out some breath I was holding in, the stress that just built up leaving me. No, I really shouldn't go out of my way to hurt people. It's wrong. I shouldn't hurt anyone, not anymore. Just keep walking for the door.

When the door opens up, I walk on in, and there's some mustached and bearded guy in the room. He is looking at a wall, but looks over, shocked that I walked on in. Before I can say anything, he says, "Ali. Sergeant told me you'd come by today. I thought I'd just have the day off, but here you are," the guy gives a small chuckle, but I can tell what he's thinking. He didn't want me to come by. Nobody did. They probably wished the doctors OD'd me.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I say very quietly, unable to control my inner thoughts. I shake my head before saying loud enough for him, "Yeah, I'm here. You know what we're doing?"

"Yep. The patrol order he issued us for today. Next week's schedule is being done by another sergeant, so be ready for that."

Why do I feel like there should have been more to all of this? "So… Do we have to fill out any reports at all? Write in that we're heading out? I always feel like I'm not doing a lot for the official side of things."

"Well, Ali, let's face it: You're an Emperor-forsaken private. I'm not going to lie to your face, you freak me the hell out." There's the word again. He moves his hands out, and says, "But when you're a private and you're… You, lots of people don't really want you mentioned, you know? Skipping paperwork for you, for example. I noticed it, the others knew, you get treated differently. I don't even know what's so special about you."

I'll tell you what's special about me. I'm a marksman. Actually, yeah, that makes sense, I'll roll with that. "Well, uh, I'm a ranger, so-"

The guy laughs, and says, "Full of grox. Doesn't help you don't even get lashed for disobeying orders on mission," the guy gets up from his seat, grabbing a rifle on the table. He then says, "Whatever. Not important. Let's get this over with."

Agreed. At least he's honest. And that explains a tiny bit. Except it also opens up more questions. I feel like I should know the answer why I'm special. I'm not an abhuman or a mutant. Not a Psyker… I cannot remember all the 40k lore at once, man. It has never clicked with me what I could possibly be. I'm not in any of those categories. "Yeah," I respond in the middle of my contemplation, then remember a very important component of my life up till now. "I need a gun."

The guy looks back, puts his hands into a crate, and grabs out a laspistol looking thing with a battery pack. He confirms my sighting by sliding the pack into the pistol, and turns it around, offering it to me.

"Don't mind if I do," I say as I grab it by the handle, carefully making sure my fingers stay away from the trigger. As I try to pull it away, I find resistance.

"Don't mess things up for us," the guy warns.

"I won't." It was just one ti- two times, man! And, hey, one of those times got you out of the sand. Nobody appreciates me around here! They all just hate me for no good reason!

He lets go of the pistol, and I quickly try to find a place to holster it. My knife sling that I've made could probably fit it, and I try to shove it in there like some kind of action hero. It works just fine, the knife probably causing scrapes and… Oh who am I kidding, this laspistol is tougher than that hunk of junk. I then try to quickdraw the pistol out, sufficiently satisfied with how easy it is. I can feel the little holster I made being a bit loose, but honestly? If it works, it works.

I nod, looking at… Hiza, I think his name was? "We're good to go then, right?"
The man nods back at me, "If you're good with that, then we're good to head out on patrol. You know these streets, private?"
"No, sir, I do not," I truthfully reply.
"Then you," he pokes my chest, "Stick behind me. Anybody pulls a weapon, you shoot them. Anybody looks at us funny, you beat them. Anybody causes a problem for us, we sort them out. Got it? That's how these patrols work around these parts." Yikes. Wow, I can see why they might try forming some kind of insurrection if this is how the police are allowed to roll around.

I give his a small salute, saying, "Yes, sir." I wave my hand to the door, making way for him, "After you."

He decides to get a move on, all while giving me an odd look. Even when I'm trying to be decent and polite… There's just no winning with these guys, huh? I try to be nice, I try to be friendly, and where does that get me? Everybody pointing fingers, talking shit behind my back, and… And getting people killed.

I need a shower. I don't know what else could be wrong with me.

There we were, on the streets, doing our duty for the Emperor or whatever. Just some casual walking around. Hiza was ignoring me, as is the usual, although I can tell he's getting more and more agitated as time goes on. Yeah, I'd get a bit peeved to have some dude who reeks like me follow him around.

Actually, you know what? I'm curious. I'm so curious, I'm gonna straight up ask him.

"Hey uh… Hiza," I begin.

He makes a small grunt, turning his head slightly.

"I've been wondering something. What about me pisses everyone off?"

The guy grunts again, I think a small chuckle, and he says, "Bold way to start a question. You want me to lay into you, or do you want me to dance around it?"

"I don't know what you'd be dancing around," I reply earnestly. Weird way to put it, I guess. "So why not just give it to me straight?"

The guy nods, and he begins, "It's just… Something's-"

He is interrupted by the sounds of struggling off the side of the street. We're currently on the sidewalk of some road, not particularly anywhere important looking, but it looks slightly run down compared to what I'm used to. There are buildings all around that stretch upwards several hundred feet, as is the standard, perhaps even below average, of 40k, but there are always gaps in between the huge buildings. There were many dark, dingy alleyways that I skipped over mentally as I was checked out, just following this guy.

What? Was I supposed to be paying attention? Why not take this time to incessantly brood? I consider that very viable in the grimmest darkest future where there is only war.

Anyways, sounds of struggle. It sounded like some female and male getting into a struggle. Coming from an alleyway, I immediately sensed something was wrong. I kept my ear at the ready to intercept precisely where it came from.

I turn my head to the right, bringing my hand up to stop the guy from speaking. We could discuss that later. However, as I'm looking down the alley, I see some rugged looking guy in tattered looking clothing grabbing at some woman in a hood and robe.

The guard I'm with looks over at the commotion and says, "Eh, not our problem. Let's get a move on. I don't like the look of this place."

Are… Are you really a member of this damn city if you let some woman get herself grabbed at by some drunk hobo? I thought there was some human decency remaining. I find myself not only shocked but incredibly disappointed.

My hand unconsciously grabs onto the handle of my laspistol. How do I play this off like a sleaze ball? He's already called me a freak so… I guess I can appeal to that. Sleazy lunatic. "I don't like the look of that guy. Think he's trying to make a statement, like he can do whatever he wants on our streets." I start walking over to him.

Hazel or whatever-his-name-was stands aside, content to let me handle this matter alone. Yeah, I know you don't care, but could you be any more of an irredeemable asshole about it? This is why your name doesn't even stick, pal.

I make my way down the alley, and shout, "Hey! The fuck're you doing?"

The guy turns around, and his face looks absolutely horrid. I've seen homeless people, but damn was this guy ugly by comparison. I think he might have even been some kind of mutant. His nose had warts all over it, his cheeks were littered with festering bumps, and one of his eyes was covered by a bulbous sack of some kind. As he is turning, I can see… What he was intending to do did not require his pants being up. Yeah, okay, I'm not gonna feel bad about this in the slightest. He didn't even resemble a human, and his actions certainly didn't help him out in my mind.

He doesn't unhand the woman, instead shaking her fiercely as his decrepit looking lips parted and showed his near broken looking yellowed teeth, "Get outta he-"

I immediately whip out the laspistol and loose a shot at him, the laser making a cracking sound as it escapes the barrel. The guy seems surprised as his shoulder immediately begins to melt near the hole I shot in him, and I can see through the other side as it begins to burn and cauterize almost just as fast as it opened. Two years of trying to get the whole gunslinger motion from wild west films down, and it all turns out great.

The guy falls down, collapsing down to the ground as he shouts incoherently. He begins to flail violently, the woman clattering to the ground as a result of being unhanded so suddenly.

I walk on over to the guy, my eye wandering to his exposed… Weakness, and gave him another blast for good measure. He stopped moving before my very eyes, and blood splattered only a tiny bit. If there's one thing I was thankful for, it's that las weapons didn't really leave a lot of blood. They also didn't have a ton of recoil like I was expecting. Then again, they are a laser weapon. Just really heat stuff, not chemical reactions that cause kickback.

What am I contemplating? I got a gal I just saved. Hopefully she doesn't hate me immediately. I sheathe my pistol, and offer a hand to the woman, saying, "Excuse my manners. Where I come from, guys like him usually serve time, but I'm not so kind to them." Heh, I must be the coolest guy of all time. Or the idea of 'serving time' is odd and unheard of in 40k. I don't know, Imperial law is weird, and being a member of the 'police' has hardly helped me understand anything because NOBODY TELLS ME ANYTHING. Just about the best legal advice I got was 'don't like it? Shoot 'em.'

The woman seems frightened for a short time before taking my hand slowly. She tries to get up from her fallen position, and I pull on her arms to help give her the leverage to get up. Once she is, I can see her face. Her purple face with eyes that don't have pup-

I very, very immediately know what's wrong here. I should have just listened to whats-his-face and not bothered.

"I… I must thank you, sir. You saved me," the woman says to me, but I ain't hearing shit from a Genestealer Cultist. "Please, let me try to reward you. I know it may seem like-"

I move a hand up, "Not interested. Just doing my job." Playing it cool, I turn around, and start speed walking back to Hizzle. I am not bothering to look back. This is a priority concern that tops all others.

The guy gives me an odd look before asking, "Any reason you shot some guy then gave some girl the cold shoulder?"

"Uh, hi, yeah, we got a big problem here," I tell him immediately, "Governor's palace. You know where it is?"

The guy gives me an odder look before asking, "What's the governor's palace have to do with shooting some random dreg?"

I poke him on the chest, "Shut up about the dickhead. Two things are gonna happen right now: Either you tell me where the palace is and how to get me there, or you guide me. This isn't something we can just magically make better by writing it in a report." I keep getting closer to him, and he tries backing up several times, but I'm not having it. I keep up my advance on him.

"Uh… Ali, you're freaking me out here," his voice is filled with concern and a slight panic.

"Unless you wanna end back up in the primordial soup, you're gonna take me," I warn him. Look, I know I'm a scary guy when I want to be, and craning over this guy thanks to my height likely helps.

He seems to shiver a tiny bit, then says quietly, "O-okay… I'll take you." That's what I thought. He backs up to the barrier between the sidewalk and the street, realizing he is gonna have to pick a direction to go. He turns towards the left and tells me, "It will take some time to get there."

"I literally could not care less. This is priority numero uno, my man," I tell him with all the seriousness I could muster.

He seems to understand, continuing in silence. I follow him accordingly, and it's on that walk I realize something.

Oh god. Did I kill someone?

It didn't sink in at the time because I thought Lasguns and the like were literally just flashlights, but… I think I actually murdered someone. I mean, it looked like a bad guy, definitely, but that was still a human.

Well… That's the thing. Are humans in the bottom rungs of the Imperium really… Human? That's a scary thought, but the more I think about it, are servitors even human? All he likely did was just menial labor even the most basic of things could do… He wasn't really living a life, was he? Was he even alive to begin with?

Wait, no, I'm going into justification territory. Oh my god, I am a freak. First, I get my comrades murdered, then I actually kill people myself. At this rate, everyone I know is in danger. I'm a murderer in the worst sense. I've… I've killed both intentionally and unintentionally.

Am I any better than the scum on the street?

Am I the street scum?

Okay. Contemplation and brooding later. I have to keep a clear head. I need to inform the governor immediately of Genestealer Cults on his planet. On my damn planet, at this point.

The palace was gigantic. If you've ever seen 40k buildings, it's pretty much that times two. Golden lines all along the walls, fortifications aplenty, at least four heavy bolters tracking me as I was moving towards it, and a giant staircase. Hagel left me alone at the base of the staircase, saying he had errands to run. I ascended up the staircase, and it was then that I realized how hard I had skipped leg day.

Huffing and puffing by the time I reached the top, there were two guys in some heavy looking armor out front. They looked especially decorated, and like they could beat my ass were they to try. Their faces were completely obscured by the helmets, which had little ocular gadgets and gizmos that probably let them see me and all my identification or whatever sci-fi trope we wanted to bring up.

"Hey gents, member of the PDF, gotta speak to the governor," I say through heaving breaths, reaching for the door.

One of the guys brings up his gun, putting it in my path. I quickly retract my hand, not wanting to antagonize him. He asks me with a robotic voice, "Do you have an appointment?"

"Uh… No? But it's pretty important."

"The governor is busy at this time, and will be for the next foreseeable three months. If you want to see him, schedule an appointment for after that time," the guy tells me. Really? Like actually really?

Wait, this is 40k. Forgot that administration is a bigger hell than the literally hundreds of trillions of Xenos waiting to nom the Imperium. Arguing with these guys will get nowhere. I have to find some way to climb up. I look at the guys, and put my hands up slightly, backing away, "Right. Sorry for bothering you lads. Keep up the good work."

They don't respond as I walk away. Yeah, they probably wouldn't let in a stinky murderer like myself. Even if the planet is under massive threat.

So, the descent down the staircase is marginally better. As I hit the bottom, I begin to pace around the building. There are occasionally guardsman-looking guards hanging around the bottom structure, which is just as grandiose as the upper sections.

Man, these guards were gonna be a problem. If I wanted to find a way in in the next conceivable few hours, I needed a solid way of entry. I needed some kind of way to get in that wouldn't draw attention, that wasn't adequately-

"Oh, hey Ali," somebody says.

I look on over, seeing the Sergeant standing guard with some fancy additions to his uniform, probably signifying he was a guard of the palace or something now. Come to think of it, wasn't he assigned here as some kind of punishment or something? "Hey Sarge," I reply, moving my hand up, then looking off.

I needed a way in, and-

"Wait," I say out loud, stopping in my trek around the palace. My whole being whips around, one hand grasping the Sergeant, "Mushad, I need you to do me a solid." I'm in.

"Uh huh," he says, trying to brush away my hand, but I keep it firmly there, "Ali, I'm gonna be honest with you, I have a nice thing going, and you are probably on patrol. Speaking of which, where's Hiza?" I'm not in. Come on, man!
"Not important right now," I reply, trying to sound extremely stern, "I seriously need your help, Sarge. I need in the palace to talk to the Governor right now."

He looks at me oddly and with a hint of concern as he looks around where we were. There was nobody around to hear us if he asked for help. Well, unless he used his radio. Actually, that went both ways. He could absolutely call a death squad on me right now for being crazy. "I… I don't know, Ali."
"Come on-" I start, then remember something, "Hold on. My first mission was a complete fustercluck, remember?"
"A complete what?" he asks.
I poke him with a pointer finger, "Yeah, you remember! And you said, and I quote, 'if that happens, I owe you a favor'.

"I uh… Oh. Right. Ali, I was just jo-"
"You don't get to pull that card right now, chief," I point at him, looming over him just like I did to Hiza. I decide to bring myself into a hushed tone as I say, "Listen, I've got news for the governor that could save this entire planet from being consumed by a horror beyond your understanding. Do you want everyone here to die, or do you want a chance at seeing this world shine brighter than ever before?"

The man looks very conflicted for a couple moments before responding just as quietly, "Ali, you know I could get executed for this."

My face tenses up as I get increasingly tired of this shit. I want in that damn palace, and I am saving my ass and everyone else's. Then they'll have to stop being colossal douchebags to me. Hopefully. "Over the last week, I've had zero recollection of what the hell happened to me, I killed a man, intimidated someone into giving me directions, and discovered this world is probably on the path for consumption by an alien race. Right now, the man in front of me owes me a favor that could prevent that last thing from happening." My coworkers always hated when I talked to them like this because I always got my way doing this. Oh man… My coworkers. I haven't even begun to think of them. Wait shit, mind wandering, have to harden my face, "Please just do this for me. That's all I'm asking, man."

The Sergeant stands there for the longest time before sighing and pushing me away. He takes a few glances around before turning around, saying, "Alright. But I don't know you, and you don't know me if you get caught." He then moves his hand up to a wall, pressing against some brick that falls inwards, turning… Into a panel? "The reason I'm out here right now is because the governor wants all escape routes secured, this one included." He then presses a few buttons, and a door opens up in the sideo the palace base, moving aside what I thought for sure was just a normal pillar-like wall and turning it into a neat little hallway, reminding me of a castle's secret escape paths. "It should be around the time the guard at the end of this switches with another guard. Or maybe they're right outside the entrance on the other side. Be careful."
"Thanks Mushad," I nod, moving into the hallway. I think of something real quick, and look out towards him, "How do I uh… Get to the Governor's office?"

"How am I supposed to know? I've never been in there in my life," the man replies.

Great. I nod again, "Thanks," before heading into the pathway. The door closes behind me, leaving me in decent darkness, lit only by some dim blue lights. The hallway appears to have several vents, pipes, and plating. Not sure for what purpose, but that didn't matter. I marched on through the hallway for like half an hour. Okay, maybe closer to like ten minutes, but my god was it long. By the time I reached the other side, I only found a small panel next to the door. It had several symbols on it, symbols I couldn't even begin to read.

Once again, fantastic. I decided to press the middle thing on the panel, and it lit up for a second, some more symbols appearing before the door opens in front of me. And in front of the door opening is… One of those robotic armored guys with a big gun. And he's looking directly at me. I have to make the first move.

"Hey there," I say, giving him a small wave, "Same guy as before?" I had to play this off like I was supposed to be here. I looked around the hall, seeing some menials moving about in a rather ornate hallway. The walls seemed to be made of basalt or some black rock, the floor made of marble or an equivalent white rock, all polished to shine. There was also metal decorations, servitors built into the wall writing on papers, servo skulls bouncing around, and skulls here and there. Man, why is the Imperium so damn creepy?

"No?" the robotic voice replies in a confused manner. No gun raised yet.

"Damn. Well, the escape route's clear of any piping issues, and no growths from what I could tell. The…" Word for computer… What was the 40k word for- Got it, "Cogitator already gave me my route for the next one, if you need to call it in or whatnot. Got to get going, take care, man." Buy it, buy it, buy it-

"You too," the robotic voice comes through, and the man goes back to being at attention.

YES! I fist pump in my mind before coming to a crashing realization. I need to know where the governor is. Wait, he already thinks I'm supposed to be here. "Oh, hey," I say, looking back, "I got orders to give a report to the governor when I'm done, but the cog hasn't told me where he might be. You know where he might be?"

"His office. He is in a meeting with someone of note," the robotic voice amicably responds.

"Ah! I should just leave a letter, then. His office, you know how to get there from here, so I know for later and don't look like an idiot?"

The dude appears to laugh silently, at least from the way his armor moves, and responds, "Yes. From here, it's up the first staircase on the left, second to top floor, keep going straight to the large doors."

"Wow, I would have looked like a real moron for not guessing that one. Thanks, man, you've saved my bacon. Be seeing you," I wave, hurrying along.

I'm so amazed that worked. Did I roll some kind of natural 20 on a charisma check without me knowing? Anyways, staircase time. It takes a solid… I don't know, ten or so minutes before I finally reach the top? Look, 40k has some of the weirdly biggest buildings ever and I hate it. At least my legs do. Once I make it to the top floor, I head back down one floor and head straight, like the guy said. Eventually, the elaborately decorated hallway filled with statues and mirrors and gold and wow this place is so gaudy I think I'll have a hernia. Anyways, it opened up at the end and I saw two massive doors flanked by two robotic guards.

Now was my chance. I just had to get in. Surely, if I could bullshit the last guy, I could bullshit these guys. It really was that easy. At least… I hoped. It seemed like their helmets blocked out my BO, so maybe that's why I was so easily able to get past that last guy. I stride on up like I own the place before one stops me with his gun pointed at me.

The robotic voice I knew was coming said, "Back away. There is a meeting in progress."

"You think I don't know that?" I reply in a hasty tone, "I have been stopped by far too many of you on my way to attend the meeting." The two remain silent, unmoving as I wave a hand, "I'm supposed to be in there, you know. You can ask him if you like, but-"

"This meeting has been going on for two hours. You are saying you are two hours late to a meeting with our governor," the man accuses.

"Well, if you haven't noticed, your comrades aren't very helpful when I tell them 'yes, I'm supposed to be here' and this palace is far, FAR too large!"

There is a crackle as one of them says, "This coming from a guy in a dirty PDF Outfit."

Shit. They got me. I lower my hands and back away, sighing, and they lower their guns. Yep, we're doing this. Here's hoping these doors are about as strong as the ones back home. I'm about the perfect distance for a running tackle on it, if I were to guess, and that's what's going through my mind right now.

If I get this right, all will be well.

If I get this wrong, I'm dead.

But… Also if I don't do this, I'm dead either way.

I hate dilemmas.

I take a deep breath and charge towards the door.