Chapter 3
Erich walked across the sleek black marble courtyard leading to the great double door entrance of Eternal Living Solutions. A fountain babbled happily in the middle as low ranking employees took their lunch in idle comfort, the more devout of which used it as a short prayer session with a roaming preacher. His voice loud and clear, a low clear monotone spoken in rapid succession to finish the sermon before the workers break was over.
As Erich's dress shoes clicked on the marble floors like that in a cathedral, Erich could hear the cathedral bells pealing their chorus in the background. Vox speakers set into walls and from poles echoing the dry words of a priest or other holy man giving the Imperial Sermon.
"To cavort with the xeno is to be the xeno. Vile and hideous are they in their forms. To help the witch is to be cursed as the witch. With unnatural powers, cursed as pawns of the archenemy. To pity the mutant is to be the mutant. They deserve no pity, no recompense or fleeting grace. Offer them not your daily bread or the fruits of your labours. Offer them not the Emperor's blessing, but the Emperor's forgiveness. Take up your gun of light, your spear hate, your sword of vengeance, your shield of faith, and cast out these creatures. These are aberrations to the perfection that is humanity. They are a stain, unclean and unwanted, clinging at the edges of our Empire, clawing at the fabric of our faith, tearing the weak and cowardly away from the Emperor's light into dark and hedonistic depravities."
It was a fairly common sermon, yet the part about the mutant made Erich swallow rather nervously. He was an Emperor fearing man, his god was not a forgiving one, nor did he expect him to be. He had been taught to hate mutants all of his life, and yet he considered a mutant to be one of his friends, if not one of his best and the sermon made him feel a little uncomfortable. As if it was directed specifically at him. Like the preacher knew of his guilt and was giving him one last chance to repent. Erich had not seen Gina since the Emperor's Emissary before his deployment. He had left her a modest sum of credits so as to not raise questions as to how someone without nobility or registered occupation had acquired so much currency.
He had told her to leave the ship, told her that an inquisitional sweep team would process the entire crew as per their standard operating procedure. If she was lucky she would be able to hide her mutation, maybe pay a medicae to surgically remove and hide it, or alter it enough to change her status. He hoped that she would be alright.
Straightening his collar and banishing such thoughts from his mind, Erich pushed open the sleek polished metal and glass doors, mindful of the stares that he received from the receptionists and the few odd security personnel spread around the lobby of the vast hive tower.
Like most hive spires with hundreds of floors, the roof was not vaulted or otherwise raised overly high, two storeys at the most and the floor was made out of the same black marble as outside, polished to a high sheen.
It was like any other corporate headquarters one might find scattered about the Imperium on similarly advanced worlds. Servo skulls carrying encrypted messages, office supplies, or merely acting as added security flitted this way and that in the space above their heads. Short lines of people, well dressed in the current fashion of the city of Kisograd.
A priest of the adeptus mechanics trundled by on a set of caterpillar treads, his scarlet robes hanging like a tarp over a chimera IFV in a flowing wave of crimson silk, just out of the turning drive wheels of his tracks. Behind him were two young adepts with no discernible augmentations carrying pots of incense at the end of brass poles hurrying to keep pace with their mentor. Behind the procession came a cleaning servitor, rolling ahead on soft rubber wheels that squeaked when it turned or moved and a large buffer attachment cleaning the floor following the magos. It's processing cogitator following the confines of its logic and its organic brain too lobotomized to discover that the source of its irritation was the magos and his dirty treads leaving the thin film of grime on the floor.
Towering over the seated receptionist, it took only a moment for her to take notice of him, if somewhat uneasily. He supposed it was to be expected. His suit was a little ruffled after having to chase the pickpocket and the scar on his face was very noticeable and was somewhat menacing when combined with his height and demeanour. She said something in the native language of the planet that Erich knew nothing of and he waited a few awkward moments before responding.
"Could we conduct this conversation in low Gothic? This tro-I, am afraid that I am not familiar with the local Burgrundian dialect," said Erich, mentally cursing himself for the stumble in his speech and ignorance of the local language. He was too used to referring to himself in the third person that he'd inadvertently refer to himself in it sometimes yet. Even though he'd recently acquired the rank of sergeant to fill gaps in the command structure after an entire battalion of the12th had been destroyed.
"Um, of course sir. If you're looking to drop off a resume there's a postal address listed in the local directory, we don't accept them in person anymore I'm sorry to say. If you're looking to see a health insurance broker, you can get in touch with our telecommunications officers at our 2-777 number, or if you'd like I could see about directing you to a customer service representative."
"Miss Irena, I believe that we have misunderstood each other. I am here to see Chief Executive Officer Yuri Lukin. I wish to inspect the operations of the company and see how their business strategy is being implemented and funds distributed. I am here to review the company, not apply for a job," said Erich dryly. The receptionist got the doe-eyed look that an animal caught in an automotive vehicle's headlamps does.
"Oh, well I'm afraid that we don't do that sort of thing here. You can't just walk in and demand to see the CEO," said the receptionist with a nervous chuckle. "If you'd like a tour I'm sure that we cou-"
"Irena. I'm not requesting this, I'm telling you what I'm going to do. Tell him a representative of the von Shreider family is on the way up to meet with him," said Erich curtly. Eternal Living Solutions was a company owned by the von Shreider family, their shares in the company never dipping below 51% total stake in the company. It was a provider and leader of medical research and equipment throughout the subsector and it's quarterly profits sent back to the von Shreider family was measured well into the trillions of crowns in revenue. It was extremely rare for a member of his family to pay a visit to their far flung enterprises, but when they did the corporations were instructed in no honeyed words that they were to make themselves immediately available to the needs and requests of the visiting family member.
The receptionist unfortunately did not know of this mandate merely believing him to be a very arrogant kid, a delusional one at that and as Erich turned to leave, amid her protestations she grabbed his hand to stop him from leaving. His ungloved hand.
"Miss let go of me please, I am on somewhat of a schedule," said Erich politely.
Whatever she had been saying died on her lips and she became visibly more rattled, retreating a few steps. It took Erich a moment to realize what had happened. He was so used to constantly wearing gloves that he had become complacent in his mannerisms. His limiter would block his abilities so long as there was no direct skin on skin contact. He had been a fool.
"I meant no offence or threat," said Erich in a placating gesture, but his scarred visage and stern countenance brokered him no favours.
"Boris, c-could you come here for a moment please?" called the receptionist to a man in a starched white dress shirt and light ballistics vest bearing the company's logo and SECURITY in bold letters.
"Is there a problem here?" asked Boris belligerently, eyeing Erich like he was a stain on the marble floor that needed to be removed.
"No, I was merely informing Miss Irena here that I am a member and representative of the von Shreider family and that I am going to see the Chief Executive Officer Yuri Lukin. If you look in company protocol under dignitary reception part III subsection IV it will explain in detail who I-"
"Okay enough of that kid. I don't care if you're noble or not. You start causing problems you're out of here. Got it?"
Erich inwardly sighed, but he couldn't bring himself to submit to the security guard's authority. A part of his noble pride refused it even as his Korps ingrained discipline demanded he obey. This company was the property of his family. Everyone here was in the employ and service of his family, and going by records he had studied in youth and familiarized himself with again for this visit, this company was actually personally owned by him. So he would not bow to some thug that they had hired simply because he was too ignorant to understand whom he was addressing. It was a humiliation he would not brook in his own hall.
"I am not causing trouble and I will forgive you this one time for your ignorance," said Erich in his usual monotone voice, but with a hint of annoyance the only indication of his rising anger. "I am Minor Baron Erich von Shreider of the Shreider family, majority share holder of this company, and I will not be called a kid or accosted by a belligerent security officer. I will be taken to see CEO Lukin or I will personally see to it that not only will you no longer be employed by my company, but I will make sure that you are serving in a penal battalion bound for the Cadian gate within the week. Do you have anything else to add to this security officer Boris, or will you now take me where I wish to go?"
Boris's face darkened by several shades and instead of answering pulled a baton from his belt and signalled another security guard to come over.
"You're leaving. Right now. You don't threaten me, and you don't make demands," growled Boris.
"No, I don't think that I will be," said Erich, subconsciously drawing himself up to his full lupine height. "I will not be evicted from one of my establishments."
The security guard made a grab for Erich and it appeared that Erich did no more than a lazy move of his arm and the guard was nearly spun around, but turned around quickly, face flushing with anger. He grabbed again for Erich, more forcefully this time. Erich moved as if he were on a dance floor and the burly security guard was sprawled out on the floor, with Erich standing imperiously above him, hands clasped behind his back.
"Are you done making a fool of yourself now?" asked Erich to the prone guard.
Erich ducked quickly and avoided the baton of the other security guard, letting it swing harmlessly overhead. Erich stepped forward with no great sense of urgency planting his lead leg behind the guard with a little pivot disrupting his balance and pushing him back by his head and toppled him to the ground. The guard hit the ground with a surprised grunt but the secretary let out a startled shriek.
"I'm rather disappointed actually, I'd have assumed that the standards for my security personnel would have been higher. I assume corporate merely assumed that big muscles and clubs would suffice. Really, what kind of training did you men receive? Now stop this foolishness and take me to Mr. Lukin. Simply look in your protocol book and you'll see who I am. I am not asking much and I do not want to use force, but I will not apologize for it. You see I will not and can not brook the insult of being evicted from a business I own. Now, would you like help up?" asked Erich to the prone guard.
There was a crackling hum, like a room with too much electricity and Erich immediately felt as if he had gone numb. He felt the beginnings of cold sweat and it felt as if his heart had seized in his chest, his throat constricting and tightening as if in a vice. The first guard had stood up again and had activated a switch on his baton, which had let off a spark upon activation. It was a simple stun baton, common issue on many worlds, but the crackling hum brought back memories of the Emperor's Emissary. Of how he had been beaten with them. Humiliated, nearly killed, and been made to feel fear which had brought him shame. The same fear that was welling up inside him now.
He stood still as if frozen as the snarling security guard advanced on him, face flushed crimson with rage. Erich didn't see the security guard though, he saw the armsmen who had tried to kill him. The one who had tried to immolate him in molten steel. The one he had killed by ramming a piece of rebar through his chest and a knife through his skull.
It was like the guard was swimming through molasses as he swung the baton at Erich, a powerful, but obvious and clumsy wide swing, a flicker of energy going up and down the baton. Erich moved on instinct, fear making his survival instincts take over.
He stepped inside the swing of the guard, stopping his swing and stepping in with an elbow to the guards temple the sound of which was audible throughout the whole of the reception area. The guard named Boris dropped like a collapsing building.
As he fell, a sound barely registered in Erich's brain. A tiny almost inaudible click. Erich moved like a man possessed, spinning around and grabbing the wrist of the second security guard, now holding a small black automatic.
Erich didn't even have to think about the move as he did it, so many times had he practised it. He snapped the guards wrist with a dry crack and took the gun away, quickly taking a step back and lining up the sights on the guard, holding his wrist with a mixed look of agony and disbelief on his face. Erich was breathing hard, with a metallic taste in his mouth. Not from exertion, but adrenaline still from his initial reaction to the stun weapon.
"Drop it! Do it now!"
Several guards had come out from their stations, pistols drawn and aimed squarely at Erich. There had been the matter of indignation that had let Erich to outright ignore the first two security guards and their ludicrous demands. A matter of honour to uphold. These men however had very simple demands. Put down the gun, or we'll shoot you. Erich put down the gun very slowly so as to not cause alarm or spook a jumpy guard, and in the matter of a few moments had several of them kneeling on his spine.
Xxx
Erich was sitting behind a plain metal table With several security officers in the room. They were processing him and had already called the local militia detachment. Erich felt dread, not so much for what would happen when the militia showed up, that would be dealt with easily enough, but what he was really worried about was the commissariat learning of his altercation. He was already on a short leash and he didn't want what few privileges he had to be revoked.
"Alright, hand on the scanner," said the security officer sitting across the table from him.
Erich put his hand out and on the piece of techno wizardry in front of him and watched a line of light move from his fingertips to the heel of his hand and back again. It whirred for a moment and then beeped.
"Positive identification achieved, Baron Hans von Shreider. Majority shareholder and owner of Eternal Living Solutions. Please refer to manual for up to date information on dealing with VIPs. Please have a nice day," finished the machine in its automated halting but proper speech.
There was a nervous silence for a moment in the room for a moment, but Erich frowned at the discrepancy. He was the son of Hans von Shredier, so perhaps his genetic makeup was close enough to be mistaken for his? But even so, a persons genetics were unique and this machine spirit seemed powerful enough not to make a mistake like that.
The security officer across from his whom seemed to be in charge appeared to be a woman in her early thirties and she seemed visibly disturbed at the information and whereas before had seen Erich as something unpleasant that had gotten stuck on her boot that she now had to deal with, now she seemed too skittish to even make direct eye contact.
"May I have these restraints taken off now?" asked Erich ever calm but looking directly at the security officer to his side.
"Yes sir," said the man, quickly stooping and unlocking the ankle restraints the were connected to the ones on his hands by a chain. Erich resisted the urge to rub his wrists as the cuffs were removed.
"I um, would like to start by saying that I am incredibly sorry for everything that has transpired and any discomfort that you were subjected to sir. I would also like to apologize for my behaviour and for that of the security officers under my command. I assure you that this was not done purposefully and that we do our job to the highest standard of professionalism," babbled the security head like she was fearful that Erich would behave like a commissar and pull out a pistol to shoot her.
"That is more than alright, misunderstandings do happen," said Erich Rising, suddenly everyone in the room in an effort to please him, pulling his chair back away from his and offering him things like for them to fetch his luggage from the security storage area, even asking him if he wanted some caff, an iho stick, perhaps something to eat.
"Of course sir, thank you sir. Is there anything that we can do for you?"
"The only things I require are a meeting with Chief Executive Officer Lukin, and for that call to the militia to be negated," said Erich in his usual monotone.
"Of course sir," said the female security officer in charge, saying something quickly in the local language to her men. "Again I would like to say just how sorry we are that this happened sir,"
"Miss, I get shot at for a living. While I do not like having a gun pointed at me, if it disturbed me that much I would be very poor at what I do," said Erich as he was escorted out of the little interrogation and holding room, the security chief practically stepping on his heels.
"Of course Lord Baron, I had heard you were a Lord General and you look so young too. Good health?"
"I am young. My Father was Lord Baron Hans von Shreider. I am his youngest son Erich von Shreider. Unfortunately my father is no longer with us, he was murdered by xenos."
"I am very sorry to hear that sir."
"Don't be. He died in service to the Emperor fighting his enemies to his last breath. I couldn't be more proud of how he died."
"A true hero sir," said the woman nodding her head. She put her hand to her ear for a moment before speaking again, listening to a voice in her ear.
"I'm sorry to say sir that Mr. Lukin is not in the tower at the moment but he is now aware that you are here and is very keen to meet the head of the von Shreider family. In the meantime there is a penthouse apartment already being prepared for your accommodation."
"Thank you. Please inform Mr. Lukin that I look forward to meeting him as well. Also, please inform him that I am the son of Grand Baron Hans von Shreider and that Grand Baron Helena von Shreider now heads the family."
"Of course sir."
"Miss...Lada, if you could please refrain from calling me sir. It could give me bad habits when I return to my regiment," said Erich as he was led into an elevator to be taken to the top of the hive tower.
"Sir?" asked Lada confused.
"Not a sir, just a sergeant," said Erich. "Actually I would like to modify my request. I would like a 401 file to review before I see Mr. Lukin, as well as a pair of black leather gloves."
"Uh...yes Mr. Shreider."
"A 401 is a comprehensive information package that will tell me what all the funding is being spent on, what's being worked on in R&D and really everything this company has been doing in the last ten years as well as a brief overview of everything since the last visit," said Erich noting he hesitation and look of confusion on her face.
"That won't be a problem at all Mr. Shreider."
"Thank you Miss Lada. You may relax you know, I'm not going to fire you for doing your job."
"Thank you sir. I would just like to apologize again for the actions of Boris. He should have acted in a more professional manner than what he did."
"Yes, he should have, but that is in the past now."
The penthouse was large, easily two thousand square feet with a dining area, a kitchen it seemed if the guest preferred to cook their own food, a lounge, a bedroom with a bed that six people could lay of comfortably and its own shower. Lada led Erich around showing him everything that he could use, even a pict viewer that was revealed by a painting sliding out of the way. There were also records lining a wall and a player should he feel the need to listen to any music. There was also a bowl of fruit on the table.
"Tell me, are the grapes here any good?" asked Erich.
"I, I don't know Mr. Shreider I've never had a grape before."
"Oh. Would you like some then?"
"Um, that's fine sir I really don't need any."
"Very well. Take an apple or peach with you when you go though. They're quite good," said Erich.
"Thank you Mr. Shreider. If you need anything else you may call at any time day or night and someone will assist you."
"Thank you miss Lada," said Erich. When he was alone, Erich went to a large bay window and overlooked the hive of Kisograd. It was a far departure from Athena II and Erich was looking forward to a more civilized experience here.
xxx
Anastasia idly played with her long red braid with one hand, while the other kept her head off of her table in a vain attempt to keep her from falling asleep. Shortly after her run in with the rich kid she had thought to be an easy mark, which had turned out to be completely wrong, she had been picked up by the local militia and dropped off at school again for the umpteenth time. Or at least in time for the last class of the day and get a rucksack full of homework to do. She yawned expansively, not even bothering to take notes as the teacher droned on in front of the chalk board writing complex compound equations on the board.
The only real interesting part of this class was that there were two new boys in class. Probably from the lower stacks if the bruises were anything to go by. That and the fact that they looked like they'd never seen the light of day before. Squinting as if the light hurt their eyes, with one studiously taking notes and the other with the burly arms and black eye looking extremely displeased to be in the room.
You and me both buddy, thought Anastasia sympathetically, leaning back into her chair and deciding that sleep was infinitely more appealing than class.
Anastasia shut her eyes and dozed off, only waking up when class had ended, the teacher seeming to have been the first to leave. And they wondered why they were underpaid. Anastasia stood up with a yawn, rubbing her eyes and feeling a case of cotton mouth. She picked up her books and as she turned to leave, only to run right into Dina.
Dina was a large girl with mocha skin, and a good foot and eighty pounds bigger than Anastasia's diminutive five foot tall ninety pound form. She was descended from a refugee fleet eighty years earlier that Burgrundy had neither wanted nor asked for, at the time being in a severe economic recession and suddenly having to put out for forty million more refugees. A small number for Burgrundy's total population, but it had led to violent clashes, eventually ending in Action 13 resulting in most of the lowest stacks of Kisograd being depopulated, a great portion being from the refugee fleet.
"Nastya, what the hell?"
"What?" asked Anastasia somewhat perplexed.
"You told people that my sister's turning out tricks like a joy girl in the metro. Mind telling me what the hell that's about?"
"Well, when your have sex and then your get paid for it, I think that makes you a joy girl," said Anastasia condescendingly, like she was speaking to a slow child.
"Don't you call my sister a joy girl! You shut your mouth or I'll fracking shut it for you," said Dina, practically snarling. "You are going to apologize to me right now and tell everyone that you were lying and tell my parents that you were lying. Do you know how my family is taking this?"
"With their welfare checks?"
"Make one more crack about my family and I'm going to ram your teeth down your throat! Do you even know what this does or how it affects my family?"
Anastasia had a habit of saying things before really thinking them through, and this just happened to be one of those times.
"How now brown cow?" asked Anastasia, turning her head almost quizzically on a tilt.
Dina's mouth opened in a startled O of shock, before her face became the picture of rage and grabbed for Anastasia like a grizzly about to maul its prey.
Anastasia dropped her books and ducked quickly under the row of tables and crawled away.
Dina pushed the table out of the way and, screeching on the waxed floor and went after Anastasia like a charging bull, quickly gaining on her.
Anastasia was what most people would refer to as a stack runner, people who would use the hive itself like their own gymnastics arena, so when she got to the teachers desk that was bolted to the floor, she leaped and vaulted herself over it, knocking over a few books and various supplies, causing them to crash to the ground, amid catcalls and hoots from a few other students who had stayed to watch, or in some cases had come back for the event.
"When I catch you you're dead," raged Dina, trying to get around to Anastasia without letting her run around to the other and escape.
"Maybe if I were cake you'd be more motivated," taunted Anastasia, feinting going to either side of the desk.
With a grunt, Dina lunged for Anastasia who jumped back, and then vaulted the desk again, making a break for the door. Only for something hard to hit her in the back, causing pain to blossom across her back and made her lose her footing, falling heavily to the ground.
Anastasia grunted when she hit the ground, an involuntary sound as air left her lungs. She gasped greedily, trying to fill her lungs with air when a crushing force fell on top of her.
Anastasia brought her arms up around her head and tried to curl up to protect herself as Dina yanked back hard on her braid making her yelp in pain.
"Gonna make another snide remark? How about how I'm from a lower hive stack? Haven't heard that one before!" Dina punctuated her words with a hard blow to the side of Anastasia's head striking her ear.
Anastasia shrieked loudly in pain and felt herself begin to cry. She had a condition with too many syllables to pronounce that led to her having an abnormally large amount of nerve endings in her ears making them hyper sensitive to heat, cold, and especially trauma. Making it very painful to be hit there.
Anastasia covered her ears with her forearms and felt something strike her in the back of the head hard and Dina yank back harder on her hair. She couldn't shift the weight on her back and the pain was already starting to make her head fuzzy as she was hit in the back of the head repeatedly. Anastasia dropped her arms from her head as Dina punched her in the head again, making her head bounce off of the floor, and momentarily daze her, making her even stop crying.
She's going to kill me, thought Anastasia dully, fear starting to build in her. Dina wasn't going to stop and everyone was still just standing around egging her on. Anastasia saw a drop of red of the floor that was quickly followed by another. It took her a moment to realize that it was blood on the floor. Her blood. A thrill of fear coursed through Anastasia at the sight. She couldn't just take the beating and wait for it to stop, because she wasn't going to. Anastasia through a force of will managed to get her arms around her head in time to stop her head from bouncing off the floor again, but little else as she was hit again. There was a momentary flicker in the lights above as her head rebounded off of the floor.
Things were blurry now and her head was pounding, almost too much to be able to stand, feeling as if her brain was going to split out of her skull. It built to a roar in her head until it felt like it was about to explode. With every hit it increased, every time she thought it couldn't hurt anymore it did and the pressure kept building. Things were starting to fade out and Anastasia was seeing spots across her vision. Made apparent when she managed a glance at the people around her who each seemed to be glowing with different auras of different brightness. Shifting in colour and hue like flickering flames.
With a final punch to her head, it took the pain past any sense of being able to bear it and like a ruptured pressure tank it felt like it was exploding outwards, providing instant relief. There was an angry buzzing like wasps or bees and the room got very bright for a moment before the sound of smashing glass assaulted her and the room went dark save for some of the light streaming in from the hallway.
Anastasia expected to be hit again at any moment, but instead a hushed silence had taken hold after a few startled shrieks. Dina's weight on her back back didn't lessen, but she was no longer being hit anymore. With a shaky hand she tried to pull herself out from under Dina, but found she didn't have the strength to do so.
"Alright everybody out, don't step on the glass," said a passing teacher authoritatively, ushering people out of the classroom without actually looking too hard at what was going on. Dina got off of Anastasia quickly, soon lost in the throng of a hundred plus students leaving the classroom. Soon she was the last one left in the room.
On shaky arms she pushed herself up, trying not to cry and staggered into the hallway, bloodied and beaten. Every light in the room behind her and several in the hallway burst, littering the floor with glass.
Xxx
"Well I would say we had a good tour of Kisograd today," said Franz surprisingly upbeat. He'd gotten that way the more time he had spent as the colonel's personal aide. Gunther had first met him when they had both been recuperating in the field hospital. Franz had gotten out much sooner than Gunther on account of his wounds being much less severe. They had been from different battalions, so they had never interacted before, but with Gunther's injuries he had been placed on light duty in the command echelon doing menial tasks.
He had learned that Franz was a very devout follower of the Imperial creed, but followed a segment that followed more on the generosity and abstinence teachings than just an undying need to purge. Yet he was just as willing to fight the enemies of the Emperor as the most sadistic death cultist. Yet his naivety and almost childlike optimism was at times extremely...frustrating.
"Franz. We saw the spaceport. We saw a handful of metro stations. We saw a market, got stunned and beaten by the local militia after you assaulted a middle-aged man and forcibly sent to a school. Where you again assaulted and knocked unconscious a student that I again got blamed for. We did not tour Kisograd."
"I didn't get beaten," said Franz. "By the way, do you want me to wait for you after detention tomorrow?"
"Franz."
"Yes?"
"Just please, for the love of the golden throne, stop talking for ten minutes."
"Oh. Alright. Hey Gunther?"
"What Franz?" asked Gunther testily.
"That girl looks hurt."
Gunther looked and saw a petite girl with shockingly red hair staggering down the hallway beaten and bloodied. Without really having to think about it, both Franz and Gunther both hurried over to her at the same time.
"Ma'am are you alright?" asked Franz concerned.
"I think so," said the girl, as if from far away, stumbling with blood dripping down her forehead.
Gunther went up to her and gently grabbed hold of her shoulders and tried to assess how bad she was hurt. It didn't take to long to deduce that she had a concussion, and a bad one at that. He had learned the signs from his boxing gym and again in the Korps.
"Is there a medicae office here?" asked Franz.
"I would assume so, a facility of this size must have one," said Gunther. "Ma'am, we're going to take you to the medicae, is it okay if I carry you there?"
"Okay," said the girl halfheartedly.
"Alright, up you go miss," said Gunther turning around and picking the girl and carrying her piggy-back style. She wasn't even near as heavy as his standard rucksack and he tried his best not to jostle her very much.
Gunther felt awkward carrying the girl. He wasn't really sure where to hold her without it being inappropriate and so he settled for the knees and did his best not to rock her too much. He also wasn't used to being this close to a girl never mind having actual physical skin on skin contact with another human being, making even the simple act of carrying feel dirty, like he was somehow being perverse.
It was a somewhat long walk to the medicae's office and it seemed most of the faculty and staff were eager to leave as soon as it hit 1600 hours local time so they were mostly alone as they walked through the halls. They passed a few odd students and teachers in the hall, some asked if the girl they were carrying was okay and pointed them in the direction of the medicae's office. Or nurses office as they called it.
"I just don't get it. My sister does some volunteer work for the lower hive levels and she's been saying that the PDF has been blocking off access and saying that there's an influenza based virus going around and nobody's allowed down. I mean, they let people down to help when the Retch virus was going around and that was a bad one, so I don't see why they're keeping people out now."
"You said the PDF were keeping people out?"
"Yeah, she said they had machine guns and gas masks and everything."
"Excuse me, miss?" said Franz opening the door to the nurses office where two women had been talking. "This girl needs help."
"Oh my. Yes, here. Put her in the bed over here," said the more elderly nurse ushering them over to a nearby cot with starched white sheets and a grey synthetic wool blanket.
The office wasn't overly big. A half dozen beds at most, limited supplies, meant more to merely take care of minor day to day scrapes and the odd sports injuries. Despite the limited use, the two nurses sprang into action quickly with professional efficiency.
"Can you remember your name?" Asked the younger nurse, shining a light into her new patient's eyes.
"Anastasia," said the petite redhead, closing her eyes and turning away from the light.
"Last name?"
"Mirnanya."
"Middle name?"
"Ludmilla."
"Now last, first, and middle please."
"Mirnanya, Anastasia, Ludmilla," said the girl somewhat dazed and slowly.
"Do you know what day it is?"
"Thursday. The...third of April," finished the girl slowly.
"How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Four?"
"And now?"
"Two?"
"Okay," said the nurse retracting her single finger. She had two up the previous time.
"I feel sick," was all the warning anyone got before Anastasia vomited all over the floor.
"Oh my," was all the younger nurse said.
Half an hour later, Gunther and Franz had charge of a girl they didn't know with a moderate concussion and were asked if they could take her home by the nurses. Before Gunther could answer Franz beat him to it.
"Of course we could," said Franz helpfully. "It wouldn't be any problem at all ma'am."
"But we-"
"Thank you boys so much. I couldn't get in touch with anyone at the hab and I'm not allowed to keep her here over night," said the older nurse gratefully.
"No problem at all ma'am."
"But we don't even-"
"Have a good night boys. Safe travels."
"Goodbye ma'am," said Franz, waving to the retreating form of the nurse.
"Franz."
"Yes Gunther?"
"Do you know where she lives?" asked Gunther icily calm.
"Um. No. But I'm sure we can find out easily enough." Gunther got a dead neutral look on his face and his hand twitched ever so slightly like he wanted to strike his compatriot, but instead he sighed heavily and grabbed a hold of the wobbling girl's shoulders, guiding her along with them.
"Are our rucksacks still in the storage area?" asked Gunther.
"Yes," said Franz.
"Good. Hopefully this girl does not live too far away."
Three hours later
"I'm surprised that you lived three hive levels higher than your school," said Franz in his usual overly happy way to the girl. "We went to the completely wrong address. Well right spot, wrong level I suppose."
"Yeah. I just wish I could've told you sooner. Though I was kind of out of it for a while eh? I guess I should thank you for taking me to the nurses office, and taking me home. I usually don't like riding the skytrain or metro this late. Throne damn does my head hurt," said Anastasia, rubbing at her forehead where she had a large bandage covering the cut, before clutching the sides of her skull like she was trying to stop it from splitting. She stayed like that for quite a while before it seemed that her headache had lessened to a degree that was bearable. "Do you guys have any aspirin or anything like that?" The request was polite, but had the feverish desperate sound of a junkie needing a hit.
"Yes, in my kitbag," said Franz ever helpful.
"Thanks again," said Anastasia downing a trio of the pain killers in one smooth motion so quickly as if to make someone wonder if they had ever been there at all. After which she returned to holding her head for another length of time before it seemed that the aspirin had lessened the pain to a degree that was bearable. They rode in silence for a while stopping at several stations where surprisingly few people got on and off even considering the time of day until there was only the three of them on the car. They rode with only the quiet magnetic hum of the train propelling itself along until it seemed the petite redhead found the silence oppressive.
"So where did you guys move from? Did you transfer in from another school or what? No offence but you guys kind of have an accent."
"Oh, well we came from-"
"Imperial Guard, Death Korps of Krieg 12th heavy siege regiment. I am Gunther 2223, this is Franz 1212. I am from the machine gun company while Franz is from the rifle companies," said Gunther, cutting off Franz.
Anastasia looked at them for a moment, face completely neutral and then burst out laughing so hard she started to cry.
"Ah shit! Oh shit! Hah! You guys are guard? That's too funny! You're like what? 18?"
"I am seventeen, Gunther is sixteen," said Franz helpfully.
"Oh, and let me guess, you've already been in combat right? Please, do I look dumb?"
"Well no, you don't look dumb," said Franz. "But we are in the Imperial Guard."
"Oh really?" said Anastasia smiling coyly. "And where was this place that you fought? Someplace off world that I wouldn't know about right? Come on. I might have a concussion but I'm not brain damaged enough to believe that."
"Yes it was far away actually. Hiveworld Athena II as a part of Lord General Nestar's Battlegroup. We were victorious against the rebelling Athenians, but had to withdraw as a result of Tyranid encroachment," continued Franz. "We had to do an impromptu exterminatus to deny the enemy any resources in keeping with scorched earth tactics."
"Franz you're supposed to tell civilians that."
"Oh, my apologies, I forgot," said Franz abashed.
"Guys, I know I have a concussion, but like I said, I'm not brain damaged. There's no way that you guys are guard."
"Technically speaking you are," said Franz.
"Is he always like this?"
"Just recently so," said Gunther.
"Ah. Anyways you guys can cut the crap. I'm not dumb. There's no way you would have been able to actually go on campaign. I mean, you would have had to join at, like,"-
"Fourteen, nearly fifteen," said Gunther.
"The day after my fifteenth birthday," said Franz, for once sounding somewhat more serious.
"Are. Are you guys actually serious?" asked Anastasia, seeming a little unsure now. Looking at the faces of the two young Kriegers to see if she could see a hidden joke or if they were carrying on a farce. Instead she saw two almost cold looks of two boys who suddenly seemed like men. Very scary men.
"Yes," said both Franz and Gunther.
"So do you guys have like ID and the tattoo and everything?"
"Yes," said Gunther, reaching in his pocket for his wallet and finding it wasn't there. He felt a surge of panic and began to look frantically for it, like an electric jolt had just coursed through his body. His wallet held all of the money he had decided to take with him, without it he wouldn't have a place to stay for the night. And he honestly didn't know where he was, other than on the Mori line. Why had he even wanted to come down to the planet?
"Franz have you seen my wallet?"
"No. Last I saw you put it into your hip pocket. Did you put it into your rucksack?"
"No, I didn't. But it might be in there," said Gunther putting his kit bag on the floor and rooting through it quickly. Not finding it he closed the bag again quickly and once again searched through all of his pockets. "If I lost my wallet I'll have lost all my ID. I won't be able to get back onto the ship." Gunther ran a had through his close cropped hair in anxiety. Lips pursing into a thin line.
"I still have mine," said Franz pulling out his wallet. "I can get in contact with Commissar Osei, and I still have money that I can use to buy you a metro pass to take us back and rent a room for the night."
"Thank you Franz, that is most generous of you," said Gunther slightly taken aback. He had begun to resent Franz's company and dislike him for his oblivious behaviour, but looking at it again it simply seemed that Franz was merely out of depth and was trying to make the best of it. His irritating annoying best of it.
"Not really. You would do the same for me, so don't think anything of it. If you really like though, we wouldn't have to go back immediately. I mean I have a year and half of pay saved up so it's unlikely we'll have to employ survival training to remain in Kisograd."
That's generous but I think we should check with metro line. Maybe they have it in the lost and found. I would rather not have to have all of my ID reissued and be disciplined for carelessness."
"Um, is this yours?" asked Anastasia, seeming embarrassed as she handed a black rectangular wallet to Gunther.
"How do you have it?" asked Gunther, taking back the wallet slowly and checking the ID.
"Well I found a wallet on the tram platform and I thought that I'd just turn it into the militia tomorrow for someone to pick up. Guess it's kinda lucky that it's yours huh?"
"Yes, it's very lucky," said Gunther relieved. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it. So, do you guys actually have the tattoos and everything?"
"Yes, we do," said Gunther.
"Can I see them?" asked Anastasia, now seeming like she had elevated Franz and Gunther to a level of small hero worship that was common for most civilians to do to guardsmen.
Franz and Gunther both rolled up their sleeves revealing bold black double headed eagles, the stamp of ownership of the Imperial Guard.
"Wow. Either you guys are guard or you're pretty dumb," said Anastasia staring.
"How so?" asked Franz.
"Well because, I heard that once you get that tattoo you're basically owned by the Guard, like if you get a corporations logo tattooed onto you."
"I don't know actually, do you Franz?"
"No, I'm afraid I don't. But you said that getting a corporations logo tattooed onto you means that they own you?"
"Yeah. You basically trademark yourself to them. Damn you guys really aren't from Burgrundy are you?"
"No," said Franz unnecessarily.
"Anyways officially the office of the Czar is the government and the Czar is the planetary governor, but they basically do whatever the corporations want. They pretty much own everything from the schools to the garbage disposal. Each of the big ones control a bunch of the smaller ones too and kinda have their own little kingdom. Like for instance Eternal Living Solutions practically owns Kisograd. Every smaller company in the hive is owned by them and every business that isn't some family run grocery store. Though they still buy their stuff from a supplier owned by ELS. So if you get black listed by any of the big corporations you're going to be homeless if you've pissed someone off. If you don't get lunch one day, don't complain because if you lose your job you're basically screwed. I help my dad at his restaurant so I don't have to worry too much about that, but when we get an executive in from ELS or something like that they get whatever they want no matter how weird or creepy it is."
"Really?" asked Gunther for once actually shocked. On Krieg the government was the law and the state. The closest there came to private business were the few noble families allowed to exist because they brought in revenue from off world that fed the coffers of the Korps. Everything else from the schools to a nutrient dispensary was owned by the state with labour laws like anything else followed with almost religious devotion.
"Yeah. There's this one girl who works for my dad as a waitress, Yulia. She's really pretty with long dark hair. Anyways there was this one executive that was kind of a gross fat guy and he wanted Yulia to sit with him while he ate and so she did. I mean you're not going to say no to an executive right? Anyways the fat ass spent the whole meal just groping her. Not just like under the table, but where everyone could see, like he didn't care. I got so mad at the bastard and afterwards Yulia came back to the kitchen where I was working and she was crying."
"What happened to the executive? I assume he was disciplined for sexual misconduct?" said Franz.
"Nope, he just paid his bill, didn't tip and left."
"That's not right," said Gunther.
"No, but me and Yulia took a break after that and opened up a bottle of wine between the two of us and I cooked us up something to eat. She's like ten years older than me, but we get along really good. We usually have a lot of fun at work too and I like working with her. Now I let her know if that guys coming back since they have to make reservations so she comes back to the kitchen whenever he's coming back."
"I still don't see how he wasn't punished for it," said Franz.
"Well Executives and other people high up in the corporations are basically the new nobility of Bergrundy."
"New nobility?"
"Yeah, about three hundred years ago we had a revolution. We didn't try to break away from the Imperium though," said Anastasia quickly when she saw the look of Franz and Gunther's faces. "It was mostly a revolt against the local nobility. Most of the old blood families got killed off. I mean there's a few left but not a whole lot. In a lot of places there's still a lot of negative connotations to nobility so most people just don't give themselves titles when they start owning everything."
"Is this your stop?" asked Franz as the tram began to slow down.
"What? No, mine is still like three towers away. Huh."
"What?" asked Franz.
"Normally there's more people here. I mean I know it's late but this is still a hive city for throne's sake."
Indeed. The station was lit, but there was only one person on the platform wandering seemingly aimlessly. Back and forth like he was drunk or high, stumbling a few steps and staring around dumbly as if trying to understand where the sudden sound was coming from.
"Ah for frack's sake," bemoaned Anastasia. "Another goddamned tic high out of his mind on slam found his way up to the three hundreds. Militia doing their job my ass."
"Should we try to get him away from the edge of the platform or call the authorities?" asked Franz, looking at the deathly pale man with stringy thin hair and tattered clothing with threadbare shoes.
"Only if you want the fracker trying to bite you. Slam makes people violent as hell when they get startled really easy, for the first hour at least. After that they spend the next eight giggling like a loon and staring at glow rods and feeling themselves, because everything's so soft. I once saw a video of a guy stroking a cheese grader and saying how soft it was hopped up on slam. It was disgusting, flesh and skin and ugh, blood everywhere and he just kept smiling. I'd just keep away and hope he doesn't notice us."
The tram doors opened with a pleasant chime and whoosh, seeming to startle the man on the platform, grunting and looking up, snorting like he was sniffing the air or choking on his own spit. Then he turned towards them.
"Golden Throne, what the hell!?" exclaimed Anastasia after a yelp of surprise, eyes going wide as she saw the side of the man that had been turned away from the skytrain. His entire left side was bloody, too much blood for someone to have survived and a large chunk was missing from his neck, the blood was dry around the wound though and the muscles moved perfectly as the man moved his head and jaw. Almost like the skin and fat had been peeled away to better show the inner workings of his musculature.
The man's hair was dark and lank, matted together with dirt and grease he looked like he had not seen a bath or shower for a long time. His clothes stained and dirty, practically rotting on the mans body. Beneath his near translucent skin his veins were showing line road lines, black and thick and snaking their way across his body in ropy bands and stringy ends.
There were bald patches on his head though, where it looked liked clumps of hair had fallen out and boils had taken their place and they looked green in colour, just like the scabs covering the mans face and exposed skin.
"His carotid looks like it has been severed. He should be dead," said Franz frowning half in confusion, half in offence that someone could defy basic Korps training as to what would constitute as a guaranteed kill by continuing to live.
"How is he still alive? Emerperor's blade," said Anastasia clearly disturbed as the man walked jerkily towards their car, one foot dragging as if broken or useless without a shoe as he did so. When the mauled man let out something like a grunt of a gasp Anastasia gripped Gunther's arm rather forcefully, clinging to him, but Anastasia herself not seeming to realize what she was doing. Her expression was one of fear and she started looking around like she wanted an escape.
"Can we move to another car? Please?"
"We will be fine," said Gunther, watching the man stagger along the platform like a drunkard.
"He doesn't look fine," countered Anastasia.
Gunther rose from his seat and stood in the doorway leading into the car, watching the man approach, clacking his jaw and grunting.
"Sir I must advise you to stay away or I will use force to distance you from us," warned Gunther as the man approached. If anything Gunther speaking seemed to just encourage the man who increased his pace and Gunther adopted a fighting stance, blocking the doorway. When the mangled man was just six feet from the train doors, they shut with a whoosh and secured themselves in place with a secure click.
The man missing part of his neck stared dumbly at the glass and steel door separating him from the three teenagers and pawed at it, as if unable to comprehend what had happened. Gunther had been in battle before, but staring into the man's eyes unnerved him deeply. It was like staring into the eyes of a corpse. As the train started to move, the man's head turned, but slowly like it was on a delay and it followed Gunther with single minded determination.
The man was quickly left behind as the train picked up speed, and soon it was like he had never been there.
"Hey guys. Um, can you walk me to my hab block when we get to my station?" asked Anastasia clearly shaken.
"Yes, that wouldn't be a problem," said Gunther, still disturbed at the sight of the man.
Back at the station, the man was still shuffling around drunkenly, as if unsure where to go, head downcast. A scrape of metal on metal made his head rise slightly before a good portion of his skull separated from the rest of his head and he crumpled to the ground, a light cough the only indication that he had been shot by a high velocity auto rifle round.
Several men wearing gas masks and dark body armour carrying auto rifles quickly entered the platform. A pair of stuttering coughs followed and two more rounds struck the man in what was left of his head.
"Clean it up, ten minutes till the next train," said a gruff voice muffled by the gas mask he wore. Four more men wearing bulky hazmat suits with charms of protection and litanies of warding and health flowing from them entered the station carrying plastic jugs full of white powder that they spread of every piece of blood and gore or fluid that the man had left on the station, while another with a pack full of some kind of fluid hosed down the station.
They put the body in a double thick body bag and put that bag inside another before sealing it closed with tape and carrying him off of the platform. The powder was quickly cleaned up and by the time the next train entered the station, there was no evidence that anything had ever happened.
xxx
Stanton rose from his bed wearily, yawning and stretching before donning a pair of fuzzy slippers and adjusting his sleeping cap. Still half asleep, he shuffled over to the door to his room and opened it with click and squeak as the metal door opened on hinges needing a dab of oil.
The hallway was dimmed for the night cycle but even still Stanton had to blink at its intrusion. His augmetic hand wiping at his eyes. A sharp crack like thunder sounded and Stanton immediately recognized Chief Watchmaster Jaeger. It was extremely early or extremely late depending on how you looked at it and he looked just as fresh as if he'd had a twelve hour sleep and pleasant breakfast. Uniform freshly starched and boots glassy black shiny.
It took only a split second for Stanton to realize that he was offering a salute which he hurriedly returned.
"At ease. What's the problem Chief?" asked Stanton rapidly becoming alert. If Jaeger had woken him it meant that it was a serious matter that needed his attention.
"It has to do with the imposter Ursula Wolfe sir."
"What about her?"
"She's escaped sir. She faked a suicide attempt and when the guards posted rushed in to help her she overcame them and is now currently at large aboard the ship."
"What? How in the bloody hell did she overcome the guards? How many were there?"
"There were three armsmen present sir. She beat them severely and they are currently in the ships infirmary. Two of them in critical condition. She also struck a pair of duty officers handling entrance and exit to the brig with a stun baton on maximum charge. They are also in the infirmary now."
"Damn. Does anyone know where she is or might go?"
"Officially no sir," said Jaeger in his ever calm voice. "So far she has managed to escape all attempts at detection. Though if I may speak freely sir I believe I can surmise what she will attempt to do."
"Permission granted Chief."
"She was a member of the assault company sir. As such she was trained how to infiltrate enemy lines, cause damage and escape again while causing maximum damage. Much of that training involved extensively how to evade search parties and detection if trapped behind enemy lines. To do whatever it took to survive as well as survival training for the most common climates. I believe that she will attempt to do some minor damage to the Heroic to distract the ships crew and then in the ensuing confusion attempt to escape in a saviour pod. Depending on how loyal she still is to the Imperium will dictate the damage she inflicts upon the ship. She may even attempt to take a senior Guard or Navy officer hostage as insurance in case she is discovered so the saviour pod will not fired upon. She will then dispose of the officer once planet side to avoid detection. She may choose you sir, but I believe she will be more pragmatic and take an easier choice. However I will still post additional guards around you sir."
"Throne dammit." Stanton sighed wearily and stroked his great grey moustache is contemplation.
"Any way that she'll come peacefully chief?"
"No sir. In escaping she knew that she was making herself a traitor and committing a grievous crime. She knows that she won't be forgiven for what she's done and has made her decision. She will now view any Imperial servant in her way as a hostile to be dealt with accordingly. The fact that she did not kill the armsmen means that she has not completely turned against the Imperium. However, should she be cornered I do believe she will escalate and kill."
"I see. Well then, issue this order. If Ursula Wolfe is found she is to be given one chance to come back peacefully. If she agrees she will be treated fairly and will be returned to her cell unharmed. If however, she refuses she is to be considered hostile. Taken alive if possible. Dead if necessary."
"Yes sir," said Jaeger saluting smartly and turning sharply on his heel.
"Chief, a moment more please."
"Yes sir," said Jaeger doing an abrupt about turn to face Stanton again with perfect parade ground precision.
"How do you know that she'll do what you said?"
"Because sir, it's what I would do."
"I see. Thank you chief, you are dismissed."
"Yes sir," said Jaeger with a final salute and turned sharply on his heel and left. As Jaeger left he was the only one walking down the corridor, his parade boots sounding sharply every time they struck the metal decking.
He was alone and yet he could not shake the feeling that he was being watched. It was a feeling, one that had just come and seemed to increase in intensity with every step he took. The same feeling he got when he had pulled sentry duty early in his career and there had been men ten paces from him intending to slit his throat and carry on.
Without changing his stride or altering his pace, Jaeger started taking in everything in extreme detail. He couldn't see anyone or hear anyone. He was alone so much as he knew, but if it was Ursula she could easily make herself silent.
Jaeger turned at an intersection and started back towards his own quarters. If Jaeger would have been able to see behind him, he would have seen a dark figure filling the doorway, with yellow eyes that glowed like hot coals. Jaeger took another step, then in one smooth motion drew his KAHP 96 pistol and turned on the spot, dropping into a shooting stance used when he had cleared buildings with the grenadiers. Nothing. Just an empty doorway. Maybe he was just being jumpy?
He held his stance for a few moments, then straightened up to his somewhat short stature of five feet eight inches tall. He turned quickly at the sound of feet scuffing on the metal decking, pistol up and aimed directly at an armsman. Or armswoman.
"Whoa, I know that I was supposed to sign out with the duty officer when I finished my shift, but do I really have to get shot for it?" asked the woman with her hands raised in mock surrender.
She was tall, even if she had been a man, standing what looked like six feet easily if not a little more. She had honey golden eyes and wavy long dark hair with tresses that fell into place like she had groomed each hair into place moments before.
"Apologies. I thought I heard someone and recent security situations have made it prudent to be extra cautious."
"You mean that Krieger girl Ursula escaping right?" said the woman sounding, playful?
"Yes. How did you know about that? Your uniform patch says that you're part of the command deck security detail," said Jaeger.
"It does and I am, but we have very sophisticated intelligence sharing services. All around the caff machine and we call it gossip. Plus it gives us a chance to mock the brig detention staff. We put them in the brig to protect the rest of the crew from them," said the woman with a smile, revealing perfect white teeth as her full lips turned up in mirth. "That was a joke," she clarified when Jaeger's face remained neutral.
"I inferred as much. Tell me, how were you able to move so quietly through the corridor? The decking is metal."
"My special footwear," said the woman, lifting a foot and wagging a pink slipper covered foot. "Off duty means that boots come off.
"I see. Seeing as you are assigned to the command deck that means that your unit will rotate security details for high ranking guard officers or other such ranking individuals on this ship."
"Yeah, that's right."
"Then I would like to inform you that you will have a full section of ten Death Korps Grenadiers in this area of the ship providing indigenous security. I have already sent a full report and dossier to your commanding officer."
"Okay, I'm actually assigned here tomorrow so that's good to know. Maybe I'll see you around here tomorrow again then?"
"More than likely. Have a good night security officer."
"Call me Pashin," said the woman smiling.
AN: Well that was kinda fun. Also if someone knows how Russian and slavic names work for grammar and such I would like to know so I don't make too many mistakes.