Chapter 2

?.M41

The next few days were quite the chore if I do say so myself, however I did manage to finally get a complete handle on walking properly and could even manage a light jog. When I'd removed my greatcoat and underlying carapace armor I had discovered a neatly folded pair of wings - of which I had no idea where to begin on learning the use of and silently doubted they actually functioned. Getting food was where I started to falter, I will admit. I've been through some rough patches, but having to hunt down local animals and devour them raw was somewhat of a line I never believed in all my years I would have to cross, and it didn't help that it was a struggle to actually catch anything at first and using a laspistol with taloned paws was right out of the all honesty, though I'd never admit it to anyone it gave me a sort of primal thrill, that I don't quite think came from 'me' at all.

Overall, the past few days had been going rather well, so it was of no surprise that on the fourth day, when I returned to my little burrow after a brief stint of local exploration, life decided to remind me just what kind of galaxy it was that I lived in.

'Emperor's bowels!' I curse, stumbling once more while attempting to drag the bloody corpse of my latest attempt at hunting into the burrow. While I wasn't exactly sure what kind of creature it was, it had four legs, a set of antlers and tasted as reasonably close to Grox meat as one could get. After another sharp tug the dead animal finally gave way and came tumbling into the burrow, almost knocking me over in the process.

'Bloody hell,' I mumbled to myself, I noticed I'd been doing that a lot more recently, it seems the isolation had been taking its toll, and yet I still refused to leave the burrow permanently. Whether it was fear of finding that this world was in fact under Imperial control and the fact that a talking lizard claiming to be an Imperial Hero would elicit a few chuckles before the PDF ruthlessly slaughtered me, not that I'd be able to blame them persay, but I do also like living. There's also the other fact that somewhere in the back of my mind I truly believed this was some hysteria induced madness, or that it was some freakishly long and realistic dream, and that by waiting long enough I'd simply awaken and this whole situation would become an amusing story to share with my colleagues. My belief in that theory was shattering more as every day passed.

Letting out a sigh I turn my head upwards to gaze upon the Burrow's ceiling (6) before turning towards my empty sash laying on the ground, and then back to my meal.

'Wait a damned moment…'

I slowly turn my head back to the empty sash. A few moments pass before I register the bright red fabric being covered in some sort of clear liquid and small black flecks.

'Emperor dammit!' I almost shout, not quite caring what heard me at that particular moment. That egg was possibly my only way to avoid being mauled to death by whatever species I seem to have become, assuming they were even intelligent and I wasn't some freak of nature, which mind you would just be icing on the cake full of the galaxies sudden choice to present its metaphorical buttocks to me.

Taking a deep breath to calm myself I approach the sash and pick it up with two talons, grimacing at the liquid that's dripping off of it. 'Bloody disgusting..' I mutter before my attention is ripped to the faint sound of some sort of chirping followed by a faint rip of tearing flesh.

Slowly turning around to my dinner for the day I am greeted to the sight of some sort of small creature, roughly half a meter in height and two thirds of one in length. Coated in a shiny set of black scales with a purple underbelly and currently ripping into a dead animal it would have been downright horrifying. At least if I wasn't four times its size, likely the same species and with two hundred year of combat experience from serving in some of the darkest and most horrid holes in the galaxy.

Honesty I'll admit, I sat for several minutes merely watching it eat while my brain had shut down in sheer shock, I'm not too proud to admit that the idea of the egg hatching hadn't ever crossed my mind. I'd always assumed I'd palm it off to the nearest member of my 'new species', gain enough good faith to be pointed in the direction of the nearest space port (which I'd came to almost fully doubt even existed on this rock) and then be on my merry way. But then I frowned, knowing full well such an idea would never have worked and finally being forced to admit it to myself. It's likely even Amberly would've been more likely to vivisect me then work towards a solution to fixing the problem at hand, we might have had a fairly close relationship, but I was under no false assumption that I wasn't anything other than a tool to be disposed of when convenient.

After a few more minutes of indulging in my own shock and self pity, my stomach's own hunger induced growling snapped me out of it, and attracted the miniature Xeno's attention to me. Intense emerald-green eyes gleaming with obvious intelligence and clear curiosity met my own eyes, likely filled with intense skepticism and a mild disdain which it seems the Xenos picked up on, lowering its head and avoiding eye contact.

For a few seconds I'll admit I was conflicted, two hundred years of fighting Xenos of all kinds and constant reminding of the dangers of the alien, even with how much I knew was blatant falsehoods (7). I still struggled with the concept of not turning the thing into a red smear on the ground before it bit my throat out in my sleep or spewed acid over me in a fit of rage. Eventually however pragmatism won out, hatched or not this tiny Xenos was my ticket to either an immense debt of gratitude or some sort of reward, either of which would be immensely beneficial to myself given my current predicament. And of course if the thing became an issue I could easily crack its skull like an egg, dump it's corpse in a lake and then be on my merry way. It wouldn't be the most tasteful - or more importantly beneficial thing, but I'd made do with worse before.

So it was with great reluctance that I put on my best 'Hero of the Imperium' smile (8) and forcibly relaxed myself before saying,

'Well, someone must have been quite hungry,' and then letting out a laugh so forced that I think even Jurgen would've picked up on it.

However in this instance it seems to have served its purpose as the thing raises its head and gives a smile, looking quite absurd on something with a muzzle and making me internally cringe as I realize I likely had looked the same moments ago.

It then opens its in the preparation to I assume speak, but instead of words what comes out is a loud hiccup and then a burst of fire that sets my meal into a blazing inferno.

Following that it lowers it head again and squeaks out a faint 'Sorry' in a tone of voice similar to that of a young girl.

'Well then, this certainly changes things. By the Emperor is it too late to kill it and lie my way through things?'

6As difficult as it may be to believe I was feeling quite helpless, as I'd never truly been in a situation such as this before. I usually wouldn't consider myself an easily melancholic person. Oh I'll fully admit I'll do whatever I can to avoid work, and I'll happily admit I care more for keeping my own skin intact than pretty much anything else, even to this day. But, this was a new situation, one can understand how after living - and almost dying several times in a body for over 200 years one might have some problems with sudden change. And I never liked change. (Unless it involved myself being placed in a position of substantially less danger of course.)

7Propaganda of the Imperium has a well known attribute of severely dumbing down the horror and killing power of the many different abominations thats sole purpose of existing in the universe is to brutally murder you in every way possible, and some impossible ways to now that I think on it.

8Practiced extensively in front mirrors and awestruck Administratum desk jockeys.

A.N

First off, apologies for the shorter chapter, I just wanted to get another one out, and honestly I covered what I wanted to within it and couldn't find an excuse to make it longer.

Next, the choice to have her come out able to speak and be, well not a drooling infant may be a strange one, but I do have an explanation.

It's been my belief for a very longtime, unless expressly told otherwise that Dragons are active while within their eggs, and as you sit in an egg with nothing but your own thoughts for who knows how many years, you'd pick up on a few things before you grow too large to actually be contained in said egg. There's also that within the games themselves both dragons start at roughly 12 and are extremely intelligent - if uninformed for their ages

And finally I understand to some, especially those less familiar with the 40k franchise that Ciaphas's callousness might be rather offputting, and the reason for this is quite simple. The man is a 200 year old veteran of a never ending war whose only experience with things that are nonhuman is eating them - or them trying to viciously murder him. And while he may be more cynical and more attuned to the falsehoods of Imperial propaganda it makes sense that at least a little bit of suspicion and aggression would be there. But don't worry, our old boy should be mellowing out soon enough, but he'll still be Ciaphas and Ciaphas does as Ciaphas does.

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