A/N: Holy God-Emperor and the Thousand Saints of Terra! You guys are awesome! I'm so honored by the support you guys have been showing this story. I know I have a niche audience, but the constant reviews and attention has been extremely flattering. I'm thrilled you like the story, and all your kind words are definitely helping to move it along.
Ok, enough gushing. Time for some more RWBYhammer!
Book 1: Baptism by Fire
-Chapter 3: A Sleeping Beast Awakens-
"It's amazing how many things are put into perspective once you realize you've been using your squads' corpses as cover." – Trooper Neesh, of the Tallarn Desert Rangers
Yang learned that Humanity was a space-faring race from Vadiik, but hearing such a claim and experiencing it was a different matter entirely. After a week of living in a cramped and stuffy barracks, officers rounded up the Imperial Guard recruits and marched them out of Aesbrouth.
It was no easy task. Ten thousand eager new soldiers left the city that day, ready to forever leave their bucolic homeworld and face the enemies of the Imperium. They were a constant stream of humanity, flanked by cheering citizenry. Lovers shared their last goodbyes, families bid farewell, and tears were shed unending.
When they reached the edge of a great plain, screaming officers lined them up, row upon endless row. Suddenly, the sky buckled, clouds parting in deference to the almighty beast that broke them. Yang saw her future home, the Lunar-Class Cruiser Ascendant Dawn. It was breathtaking. Utterly titanic, it dwarfed the Chaos vessels by leaps and bounds. Spires and weapons covered it like quills on an Ursa. It hovered in the sky, imposing and grand.
Most of Yang's fellow recruits wore the same expression as she did, slack-jawed and awed by the majesty of the warship before them. Landing craft spilled from it like ants from a colony, just as black and twice as numerous. They bellowed and roared as they descended, buffeting the plains with mighty gales of prop-wash.
Yang shielded her face, trying to keep dust out of her eyes. Her long golden hair whipped and snapped under the wind's assault, straight into the face of her neighbor.
"AUGH! Pbblltth!" The woman spat, trying to remove the mess of yellow locks from her mouth.
"Hey," Yang snapped, "watch the hair!" The woman scowled. Unlike many Woadians, her hair bore a reddish hue, and was tightly wound around her neck in a large, singular braid. She appeared to be in her twenties, just about Yang's age.
"That's my line, blondie." Yang frowned, recalling the last miscreant to use that particular nickname. She sighed.
"I'm… sorry." She stuck her hand out, still wreathed in Ember Celica. "The name's Yang Xiao Long." Her handshake was not accepted.
"Emperor bless you."
"No… that's my name."
"Really? Did your parents hate you or something?" Yang growled, grabbing the woman's collar in one hand. Parents were a touchy subject.
"I am trying." She took a deep breath. "To be friendly." A sudden crack of pain forced Yang to let go. She tumbled to the pavement below, and found herself staring down the barrel of an over-sized pistol.
"Behave Trooper, or you'll be made an example of!" The man behind it bellowed. He bore a huge peaked cap, and was garbed in an officer's finery. So sudden was the man's assault, Yang was too stunned to do anything other than nod. The man struck her again with a baton, and it deflected harmlessly against her aura. She pretended to be hurt, hoping she wouldn't have to start a scene by tearing the guy limb from limb. They locked eyes, and Yang bit back a snarl. He moved on, sneering.
Yang stood, cracking her neck.
"Golden Throne of Terra, what an asshole." The woman muttered. She looked over at her.
"My thoughts exactly. Sorry for the whole… grabbing you thing." Yang tried, shrugging her shoulders.
"It's my fault for being snarky. Name's Ros, by the way." They shook hands. The landing craft descended onto the pavement, gigantic pistons hissing and whirring as landing gear braced the vehicle against the ground. A ramp slid out from underneath a gigantic door, beckoning the recruits aboard.
A bugle sounded, the signal to begin boarding.
They obeyed in their thousands. Yang still marveled at it all. She'd seen the armies of both Vale and Atlas, but not even the armies of the two largest Kingdoms came close to the Imperium in terms of scale.
Cramming them into giant holds, they packed the new soldiers tight into the bulkheads of the landing craft. Yang and Ros were squeezed against the wall, Ros once again finding herself suffering a mouthful of Yang's hair.
"Why do you keep it like this? It's-pbbtlh. It's too much!"
"I like it." Yang said simply.
"Weird." They were silent for a time before Ros turned to her. "So, how did they get you?"
"Who did what now?"
"You know." Ros said, looking at Yang with incredulity. "Them." She gestured at one of the sergeants, who was busy screaming at the slower recruits. "How'd they get you?"
"I… volunteered."
"You're joking." Yang smiled.
"Nope. What about you?" Anger stiffened Ros, and her hands bore white knuckles as they tightened around her legs.
"A bunch of Ministorum officers stormed into my village a week after the attack...they refused to leave without at least two hundred 'volunteers'. Only a couple dozen signed up, and for the rest… we drew lots."
"And you got picked." Ros nodded, her fists clenching.
"Emperor be praised, it isn't fair." She whispered, the words barely escaping her grinding teeth. "I had my whole life planned out… had a good farm, a good husband… then they came and took it all away." Yang was taken aback by this.
"Wait, you're married?!" Ros stilled, her face furrowing and lips quivering. Finally, she spoke.
"Yes… but he couldn't serve with me…he had his right arm mangled in a thresher when he was younger. We couldn't afford to fix it, so I begged and pleaded… 'Give him a new arm, let him come with, I'll go if you let him come too.'" Tears welled in her eyes, her gaze focused solely on the ground between her boots. Yang was suddenly at a loss for words, an unusual experience. "He was praying too, begging to come with, but it didn't mean anything to them. They marched me off, and left him behind. Nearly all of us," she said, gesturing at their countless companions, "they're just like me. Conscripts."
"Wow… I'm…" Yang took a deep breath, putting an arm around the red-head. "I'm really sorry." Ros laughed, a bitter, broken sound. But she seemed to welcome the gesture, leaning back into the hard metal seat.
"Don't be. You're the dumbass who signed up to die, when the rest of us had to be forced. Emperor be praised, you probably saved someone else from being torn away from their family." Yang hadn't thought of it like that. She forced a smile on her face.
"Ros, you have my word. We'll make it through this. We're gonna kick ass all across the galaxy, and when we're done, I'll plant your ass back on Woadia, right in front of your waiting hubby." Ros gave her a look of shock and disbelief that morphed into a small smile, draining the melancholy away.
"That's some of the sappiest shit I've heard in a long time." Yang laughed, and her new friend's smile grew even wider. "But damn, does it feel good to hear."
Two Hours later...
Yang watched Woadia shrink before her, a spinning globe of green, yellows and blues. So sudden. In a matter of hours, the Ascendant Dawn had escaped planetary gravity, headed for the depths of space. Yang pressed her fingers to the window that stood before her, in total awe. Leaving Remnant to reach for the stars was something that only lived in the vague dreams of its most gifted residents. And here, in this galaxy, it was treated as second nature, yet another day in the Imperium.
"Crazy isn't it?" Ros said, hands on her hips. "We lived our whole lives there. And we'll probably never see it again." She gave a little wave. "Farewell, my everything. Emperor be with you." Her hands flew across her chest, a ritualized gesture Yang recognized as the Sign of the Aquila.
"Hey now, I made you a promise! We'll be back here eventually. I can feel it."
"I'm holding you to that." Ros replied, trying to grin. "Come on Yang, let's find our gear." She nodded, following the younger woman throughout the vast starship. The interior was marvelous. Its hallways were cramped and dank, but its meeting places were soaring and bright. An old, ancient architecture permeated everything here.
In a weird sense, the gothic spires and flying buttresses reminded Yang of Vale.
They found their assigned armory after a few hours of exploring the ship. Hundreds of new Guardsmen waited in line to receive their new gear. Ros and Yang joined them, two women adrift a sea of future soldiery.
"Ros? There you are!" A voice called out.
"Oh, Emperor Protect me." Ros groaned, burying her face in her hands.
"Golden Throne! I thought I lost you when we got marched out!" Yang looked over to the speaker. He was a slim man who bore an uncanny resemblance to Neptune, if his hair had been cut short and dyed a milky white. A long white scar snaked over his nose, and passed through his lips. He looked to be Ros' age.
"You know him?" Yang asked.
"Every girl from the village of Bardigaal knows Caolin Roriksson. And Caolin Roriksson knows the fists of every girl in Bardigaal." She snorted.
"Not just fists, Ros!" Caolin cried from his spot in the line across from them, beaming like an idiot. Yang put a hand on her hips and slouched back, sizing him up and down. "And who's your friend? Ain't seen someone like her before."
"I have lots of names. But you can call me Yang." She gave him a wink, which he received with a sly grin.
"Now Ros, why can't you be all friendly like Ya…. Yang over here?" Ros scoffed, giving both Caolin and Yang a dirty look.
"Don't encourage him. He's an incorrigible flirt."
"He seems nice."
"Do the words 'incorrigible flirt' mean nothing to you?"
"Nah, I'm just playing with him. I'll torture him for a few months before turning him down. He's cute, but he's not really my type." The whitish hair hits a little too close to home… she thought, remembering her good friend Weiss that she'd left on Remnant. "Sometimes fists aren't the best way of dealing with men. Not often. But sometimes." Yang beamed. Ros managed a grin.
"I can't say I've met many people like you." Yang laughed. Ros was like a spunkier, talkative version of Blake. Just as morose, but just as intelligent and insightful.
"Stick around, then."
They received their gear, the standard issue green Imperial Flak Armor with three beige tunics and several sets of fatigues. Assignment papers were included too, declaring they were now part of the 111th Woadian Rangers, the one-hundred and eleventh regiment raised from the agri-world of Woadia.
Yang skimmed through the documents. 'Blah blah blah Emperor, blah blah blah Woadia, blah blah Imperial Guard, blah blah training blah. Oh, useful information. Report to barracks 0914. Guardsmen is now assigned to Gamma Platoon, Squad F, under the command of Sergeant Jorvis. Thankfully, Ros was assigned to the same unit. She wouldn't have to part with her newest friend so soon.
"Hey guys!" Caolin said, hustling over to them. "What squad you in?"
"We're both in Gamma Platoon, Squad F." Caolin grinned a wide, toothy grin.
"Oh, Emperor save me from the spawn of Rorik." Ros muttered, realizing.
"Looks like we're going to be stuck together for quite a while."
"I'm pushing you in front of the first xenos I see."
"Please, please! I got lucky that this," he said, tracing the scar that ran along his face, "happened to be sexy. No need to risk more!" Yang laughed. It was comforting to see a bit of normality in this insane galaxy. Caolin turned to her, a wolfish smile on his lips. "You have a resplendent laugh, Miss."
"Spare the gentlemanly act, ass-hat. You don't even know what 'resplendent' means." Ros spat.
"Not until I heard her laugh!" Yang laughed even harder.
"Wow. That was," She took a deep breath, wiping a tear from her eye, "that was actually pretty good!" Caolin bowed dramatically.
"Idiots. Come on, let's go." Ros grabbed them by their collars, dragging them to their barracks.
"Ack! C'mon Ros, I'm sorry for hitting on your friend! She didn't mind it but… I mean… Urk!" He tried, struggling to free himself. Yang just went along for the ride.
New friends were always nice.
The barracks were large, but only in the sense that they stretched deep into the bowels of the ship. For Yang towered over the Woadians, and her hair was only a foot away from scraping the metal ceiling. Bunks by the dozen lined the walls, tightly packed and utterly spartan. There were no windows, no respite from the bleak metallic walls. The only illumination came from small lamps that hung from the ceiling, bathing the room in a dim light.
Recruits shuffled and ambled about aimlessly. Some tried making acquaintances and some just lay still on their bunks, pulling the covers tight.
An eerie, metallic voice resounded throughout the room, and presumably the entire ship.
"Attention, all hands. Ascendant Dawn is now entering Warp Space. Attention all hands. Ascendant Dawn is now entering Warp Space." The message repeated a few times before it died down. It was silent for a moment. Then everything went red.
Yang felt pain pulse in her head, a sharp ebony blade that dug at the crevasses of her mind. She felt angry all of a sudden, viciously angry. Murder. Her fingers wound themselves into her hair, twisting, pulling, yanking. Had to kill, had to maim! Break their bones, smash their skulls, that was the best way to do it! Tear them apart, just like Mother wanted. Oh, Mother dearest! Her eyes! A burning, bloody RED, RED LIKE ROSES-
"Yang?" Ros asked. Huh?
"Oh. Hn. Hey… uh… Ros."
"You ok?" The insane and frightening sensation passed, but the pain lingered. She was trembling and sweating, her fingernails biting deep into her palms.
"Uh... yeah... All good. Thanks." What… what was that? She beat a hasty retreat, setting her things down on her bunk. Just… act normal. A small metal locker stood next to her new bed. She packed her rucksack inside, the small bag of canvas that held everything from Remnant, everything she held dear. Home.
Ruby. It had been awhile since her mind lingered on Ruby. The thought made her guilty, but remembering her smiling face and silver eyes helped the tremors subside. Slowly, surely, her breathing returned to normal. The anger passed, frightening though it was.
She sat down on her bunk, taking another look at the photograph of Team RWBY. It never failed to rend a hole in her heart, but at least it was something familiar. A reminder of a peaceful time, a time far away from the Imperium and terrifying visions of slaughter.
"That's a look I've seen before." She jumped, turning to face the new voice. A bearded man smiled at her, crinkled lines spilling from his eyes. A thin rope necklace hung about his neck, a few beads flanking the ever-present Aquila. An older man.
"What look is that?"
"Who have you lost?" The question hit a little close to home.
"My-" She paused, trying not to let the misery that haunted her to resurface. Deep breaths. Don't cry. "She was my sister."
"Grief knows us all in this time of war." He said simply, a small smile hidden behind the scruff of his beard. "My name is Rhain. Rhain Fyodyrsson." He extended a hand. Yang took it.
"Thanks Mr. Fyodyrsson." He held his hand up.
"Just Rhain will do. We are fellow Guardsmen, after all." Yang nodded. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Rhain clambered into his bunk, and opened a thin black book that had been included within their assigned equipment. 'The Imperial Guardsmen's Uplifting Primer'.
Ros plopped down next to her, sighing with exhaustion.
"Pretty gloomy, huh?" Yang asked with a fake smile, gesturing around to their new companions. Ros nodded, yawning.
"We've just left behind everything we've ever known. I don't blame them." Yang contemplated this as the Ascendant Dawn tore through the Warp. In that sense… they're kind of like me.
Elsewhere, in the Segmentum Obscurus...
The grim and foul stench of decay was everywhere. It did not linger in the air or waft about with the wind. It crouched in the city like a foul beast, a heavy miasma that was choking in its fullness. Decius gagged and threw up, adding vomit to the blood and unknowable bile that caked his flak armor. No matter where he went, he couldn't escape the smell. His lasgun rested at his side, its battery half depleted and barrel burnt black from constant use. He checked it for the sixth time this hour, trying to distract himself from the mess he had made.
"Are you ok, Sarge?" It was Piona, the squad's flamer expert. Her face was stained black with soot and ash, but around her eyes a pair of orange goggles had kept her skin pale and ghostly.
"I'm fine, Piona." He managed, wiping his mouth. She looked worried, but perhaps that was just exhaustion, it was hard to tell anymore.
"What the fuck are those things?" Trooper Tullius Pilavo. He was keeping watch by the window, base terror stretching his eyes wide. His knee bounced and rattled like a jackhammer, pumping up and down on the hardwood floor. A vox-caster was by his side, silent but for the hiss of static.
"If I knew," Decius said, "I would have told you the first twenty times." He sighed, surveying the remnants of his squad. There were only four of them left, four of fifteen. One by one, they'd fallen to those tainted… things. A rusted and well-worn gas lamp was the only source of illumination, casting a warm glow of the bruised and bloody guardsmen. With them was the only civilian they managed to extract, a Ministorum Preacher named Adavo. The sergeant bit back a snarl.
Useless, cowardly man. Servant of the Emperor or not, he was nothing but a burden. He sat next to the lamp, froth-tinged prayers tumbling out of his wrinkled lips. He was worse off than Tullius, and his muttered ramblings set his men on edge, which was the last thing he needed. Trooper Gnaeus Dondara was also keeping watch, his tattered tunic rising and falling with each labored breath.
Outside, roiling clouds of thick smoke obscured the night sky. The city of Hastatus was besieged from within, plagued by these damned creatures, and the P.D.F stationed on the planet had broken apart under the sheer weight of them. They were scattered and alone, left to fend for themselves in the nightmare that their lives had become.
"Contact, we got contact!" Decius snatched up his lasgun, carefully edging his way towards a window.
"How many are out there, Gnaeus?"
"Emperor protect me." Was the only reply he could manage, and Decius saw why. There were hundreds of those shambling and decrepit creatures. They looked human if one spotted them at a distance, but after killing them in their hundreds, Decius would never make such a mistake. Their flesh was rank with necrosis, sloughing and covered in fetid bulbs of green rot. A low, horrid moan escaped them as they spotted the squad, which grew to an animal snarling as they picked up their pace. There were so many, packing the ruined streets with ruined bodies.
"Grab Adavo, we're leaving. Head for Rally Point Kappa. Piona… incinerate them." A weary smile split her face, revealing a row of brilliant white teeth. She hefted her flamer, the blue pilot light sparking to life. "I'll be out in a second to help. Don't use any more promethium than you have to."
"Of course, sir." She said, pulling her goggles down from her sweat-stained hair.
"Come on Father," Tullius said, pulling at Adavo's befouled robes, "we need to get going."
"The Time of Ending is upon us!" He cried. "The Curse of Unbelief will swallow us whole!"
"For the Emperor's sake, shut him up." Decius growled. The creatures roared as they saw Piona, stumbling towards her in their blind blood-lust. She responded, a quiet, harsh whisper that Decius could only just make out.
"Find salvation in purgation." The flamer bellowed, rending the closest creature into ash, and igniting his companions. The burst of flame lit up the street, and those that did not die howled as their flesh cooked and broiled. "Find salvation in your cleansing, and rejoice by the side of the Emperor."
Decius whipped around. Tullius was shouldering his vox-caster, Adavo in tow.
"Gnaeus?" The large man nodded.
"Let's go sir." Another burst of light illuminated the street, Piona's flamer purging Hastatus of its tainted inhabitants. Decius jogged out to join her, lasgun at the ready. He fired into the encroaching crowd, crimson lances of las-fire blasting the putrid beings apart. There were so many. And they were getting closer now, only a few dozen yards away.
"Piona, we're moving!" She didn't hear him. Her finger hovered over the trigger to her flamer, itching to let loose another lick of holy fire. "Piona!" She jerked, accidentally throwing a gobbet of flame into the face of a monster. It fell, its howling cut short by a fiery death.
"S-sorry sir." Decius didn't respond, instead, pulling at her shoulder pauldron. "Follow Gnaeus, I'll cull them a bit further." She nodded, dashing over to her fleeing comrades.
Hammering the trigger of his lasgun, he cut down the ones that escaped Piona's flames. He stood his ground, trying to shut out the reek of burning flesh. "What I would do for some grenades…" He muttered, felling another one of the cursed things.
He turned and bolted after killing the eleventh, following his squad into the depths of the city. They had not made it very far. They were beleaguered and spent after almost thirty hours of constant fighting. Decius could not blame them. His body ached.
"Come on, double time." He said, doing his best to keep them moving. The plague-ridden things hurried after them.
An eerie air pervaded the entire city, and it felt like each statue was paring him apart with judgmental leers. The alleys they crept through were still and dead, devoid of any signs of life. Corpses choked the gutters, and untold gallons of blood pooled in the street, stagnant and rancid.
It was Tullius' turn to vomit. As he heaved and shook, little more than water spilled forth from his stomach. They hadn't eaten in almost two days.
"Sir, we can't go much faster." Gnaeus said, his sweat-stained brow furrowed in anguish. "Not with Adavo in tow." The shuffle of monster-feet swelled behind them, hungering after the squad with frightful insanity.
"Soon, darkness will descend upon the Imperium!" The preacher bellowed, completely insensate and ignorant of his surroundings. "Repent!" He screamed, a crooked finger shoved roughly into Decius' face. "REPENT! For you have abandoned the light of-" Decius shot him with his laspistol, firing a stab of red light into his chest at point-blank. The corpse sank to its knees. A hole in its holy robes billowed smoke, carrying the scent of burnt flesh.
"Oh, Emperor!" Piona cursed, shrinking back from the corpse. "What the fuck, Sarge?"
"Gnaeus was right. He was useless." A singular creature ran toward them, hearing the commotion. Tullius let loose a single shot from his laspistol, which blew one of its legs apart. It floundered, falling face-first into a pool of viscera. Ignoring its wound, it continued crawling towards them. Disgusting, foul, warp-cursed animals!
"You-you can't just…" Piona stumbled for words, panic settling in her countenance. "He was-"
"Slowing. Us. Down." Decius growled, pushing his squad into a jog. "Not to mention howling like a mad dog." Gnaeus didn't say anything, and Tullius hurriedly performed the Sign of the Aquila. Unburdened by Adova, the squad managed to put good distance between the horde that had been following them. Eventually, their mad moaning faded away, lost in the twisting turns of endless concrete.
The stopped for a breath, sucking in the befouled air with desperate lungs. Piona still looked irritated and jumpy. Her fingers danced around the handle of her flamer.
"Sarge, why did you kill him? He was a Preacher! You-"
"Piona. I'm not going to let these fucking animals take another one of my men." Her face fell, the burning city reflected on her goggles. "If he'd stuck around, he'd be the death of us, and I refuse to accept that."
"I… yes. Understood, sir." Despite her initial horror, a faint ember of gratitude burned in her crimson eyes.
"Now let's go, double time!"
They hurried through the city, stopping for breath every few klicks and avoiding the larger groups of monsters. They couldn't avoid all of them, and every so often, they were forced to spend a little more of their remaining ammunition. The rally point wasn't much farther away when Tullius interrupted their march.
"Sir! I got something on vox!"
"What is it?" Comms had been dead for the last eight hours after the command bunker had fallen.
"It's a general broadcast from the Cathedral of Saint Celestine. A few platoons managed to hold up there."
"What's it saying?" Gnaeus asked.
"It's…" He paused, clenching the receiver close to his ear. His eyes went wide, and his breath caught in his throat.
"What is it, trooper?" Decius hissed.
"They've… they've received a warp-cast from Augustus Prime. The monsters… they're not just here. The entire system is falling." Piona's hand went to her mouth.
"Oh, Emperor." Decius' vision swam, and he steadied himself on one of Piona's promethium tanks.
"Anything else, Tullius?"
"Orders are to flee the city, meet up at Rally Point Theta. Wait for reinforcements." Reinforcements. Ha! What a joke. If we're lucky, command will rain Exterminatus upon us. The thought came to Decius unbidden, but he wouldn't let it show. He couldn't let his men despair just yet.
"Adavo was wrong." He said. His squad looked at him. "We are not doomed. The Imperium will stand for another ten thousand years, and I'll be damned if I don't see to that myself. Let's go, Guardsmen." They nodded, morale bolstered by his words. Even Tullius managed a small smile.
"And remember, The Emperor protects."
A/N: Ooh, there's ominous shit goin' on here. At least, I think so. So yeah, there's going to be quite a few OCs. I hope that doesn't bother you. And don't worry, the focus is still firmly on Yang. Decius and his men were a one-tine thing.
By the way, I originally just had Yang boarding the ship at the end of the chapter, then fast-forwarding to a battle, and then introducing the squad there... but it really, really grated. And it sucked. So I was forced to include a few more chapters of set-up and preparation before I drop them into the shit, but I'm extremely pleased with the results, and I hope you will be too.
Also, I'm sorry, but Yang won't be fighting any Plague Zombies. The second part of this chapter was intended as a picture of other important goings-on in the Imperium, not to foreshadow Yang's next battle. Sorry for misleading you!
Anyway, what are your thoughts? I'd love to hear them!
Review Replies: In general... I asked for predictions, and you delivered! You guys are the best! I was really intrigued by what I saw, but I won't be revealing anything yet... only time will tell if your predictions hold true... :D
Firem78910: A very good question!
thefluffyone93: Standards of dress vary greatly across the Imperium, so I don't think she'll get into too much trouble. But if she breaks out the whips and black leather, then I'll be worried! haha
TheSolInvictus: Vadiik is an interesting case... so I edited the conversation slightly. I'd say she survived the Necrons rather than outright killing them. And yes, she actually fought Dark Eldar, but I figured a footslogger like her wouldn't be able to distinguish between the two races. So yeah, she's been around the block! As to the strength of Yang's aura, I'd say she could probably take a few bolter shells. BUT ONLY A FEW. I mean, hell, she got thrown around like a fucking toy by a Paladin in Episode 4 of Season 2, and she was fine. By the way, thanks so much for your in-depth reviews!
iyaoyas: I had a bit of a giggle at your 'flak armor' comment... it's so true! And yes, Yang's reluctance to hide Ember Celica might get her into trouble, but it remains to be seen... ;) Training is coming up soon, and I think I've captured it well, but you can be the judge of that! As to the CSM, I agree that it's possible on the table (and would cause no undue amount of nerd rage from the CSM player!), I felt including a bit about how Yang uses her aura fits really well there, and is slightly more plausible. A win/win IMO. Thanks again for your constant reviews! They're incredibly helpful and always appreciated!
RED Roman Pyro: Part of...?
NIX'S WARDEN: A very insightful comment! All I'll say at this point is that your concerns will be addressed in due time...
undead3: Rest assured, I am trying to stay very close to canon. Yang threw a bit of a spanner into the works, and I'm trying to keep her from becoming a Mary Sue. As to what Aura is like in the 40k universe, you'll have to wait and see. All I can promise you now that it has indeed changed... ;) And the Woadian regiments are referred to as Rangers, but they're pretty much standard Guardsmen. However, the idea of Yang being stuck on some artillery battery tearing her hair out from boredom is amusing though!
Bear of Cali: Ooh, interesting! :D
TheSpawn117: Glad you like it so far! For some reason, I can picture Yang riding into battle on the back an annoyed Space Marine... it's hilarious. But it would also be incredibly badass!
Darth Cruel: Thank you so much!
PFCDontKnow: You called it! For now, Yang will let it slide... but methinks we haven't seen the last of the 111th's Commissar...
L4 Of the WEST: I hope you're having fun! I sure am!
DanAbnettfan1997: Thanks! I hope I can keep delivering!
- Whoo! That was a lot! But I love it! Thanks so much, and KEEP 'EM COMING! :D