Poker Face

+++++ I took Weston's advice and kept my head down. I was positive something had made it onto the ship, call it a professional hunch, but I was sure of it. My theory only developed itself further as rumors started circulating about strange events; people going mad, pipes freezing, food going sour when it had more preservatives than the Emperor. I itch to go find it, but Weston is right, I could not disappear long enough to hunt it without the damned commissar noticing.

So…. I have taken to playing cards…. Emperor help me….++++++

"Chaplin! It's your turn! Put the fancy journal down and play." One of the tank commanders said, nudging her leg with his boot.

Verna sniffed and picked up her hand, looking it over and trading out a card from the deck before gesturing she was done. The ship shuttered and the pipes groaned, perhaps it was her imagination, but it got cool in the room for a moment.

Royce looked around, his young, naïve eyes searching and obviously scared. "Sir? What do you think that was?" he asked the commander. Although Royce was infantry, he had taken a liking to the tank commander.

Commander Thaus shrugged. "Nothing to worry yourself about, kid. Just the pipes."

Royce looked unconvinced and played his turn without looking at his hand. Verna had picked up her journal and was rolling it around in her hands when the commander addressed her.

"Right, preacher?" he grunted.

Verna hesitated, which earned her a sharp elbowing from Weston who had been silent at her side. "Right. Just the pipes." She agreed blandly and tossed her journal back onto the table.

"That is awful nice." Thaus said, looking at it. "May I?"

Verna shrugged and he took it in his hands, running though the pages. "It's gibberish."

"It's lightly encoded to keep prying eyes away." She said with a smirk. "To keep a lady's thoughts private."

Weston coughed.

Royce took it from the commander and flipped through it. "Where did you learn to do this?"

Thaus chuckled at the kid. "She's a damned high born. Can't you tell by her accent? She learned it in Upper Hive school." He said snatching it back and handing it to the chaplain. "Which makes me wonder what you are doing in this dump and why our fine medic here is glued to your hip." He continued.

"I use to work for her." Weston said so convincingly that Verna almost got worried.

"My family went bankrupt so I joined the guard. I always had a knack for defending myself so it was a logical step." Verna said, setting her hand down. "Weston and I served on a previous mission together and I used what was left of my influence to make sure we kept being assigned together. Having a friend around never hurts."

Thaus nodded and Royce looked in awe (or maybe it was just his big eyes that gave that effect).

Weston nodded in agreement and tossed his hand down. "I've got nothing. Verna, I need to clean you again, meet me in there once you lose."

Thaus raised a suggestive eyebrow at the chaplain who scowled and tossed one of Weston's cards at him. "Don't even think about it." She scoffed.

"Can't." He smirked slyly. "I've never heard you scream before. By the way, do you have anything to do with the commissar's black eye?"

"We settled our differences." She sniffed, looking at her hand and realizing that Weston, once again, was right.

"That why you've got a nice bruise around your throat?" he said with a nod in her direction.

"Did he choke you?!" Royce asked wildly.

"We settled it, alright, kid?" she snapped.

Thaus smirked. "I guess we know who won now."

Verna scowled and stood up, tossing her hand down and grabbing her journal. "I've got nothing either. I'll see you guys later." She grunted.

+++++Weston has been cleaning my back every day. He calls them wounds, I call them cuts, either way they do need to be cleaned. A whip is a lot dirtier than a bullet. At least a bullet doesn't have someone else's blood caked on it. Such a thought makes me wonder how many times I will be shot before this is all over. We are hunting other throne agents and there are only two of us.

My blood turns cold at the thought, but what if Samuel get hurt?+++++

"Stop cringing, I'm almost done." Doc said gently, as he rubbed one of the cuts on the back of her arm. "Or is something else on your mind? It had better not be revenge."

"Revenge? On the commissar? That's not 'til much later." Viktoria said touching her throat lightly. "I was wondering what I would do if you got hurt."

Weston's eyes met hers for a breathless moment, before going back to his work. "I would hope that you would continue the mission." He said, his tone unreadable.

There was a very long moment of silence between them, just like there usually was these days.

"I think I'm going to ward this room. It's a small cargo bay, but we can at least fit a good number of the soldiers in here." She said looking around.

++++ I have been blessed with a select few… abilities as my career advanced. I am not sure where they came from (other than the Emperor), I am not the only one who can do them, all I know is that they are not psychic, not really. Some, like the Thorians call them miracles, others prefer calling them feats of faith. They are taxing and require much willpower, but a little prayer can go a long way. There is only one feat that requires actual material components, and that is warding an area. The circle and aquilla can be drawn from any material but a drop or two of blood added in makes it the strongest.++++

"That would work…." Weston said very slowly. "If this wasn't a public area and that you would likely get caught. Remember what happened last time, Sergeant?" he emphasized her rank. "You may have kept those daemons off the others, but they locked you up for a witch, right?"

Viktoria sighed. "That's why I didn't do it around the bunks, but still…."

"Has it even occurred to you, to just let it be? Don't meddle? I know that's our entire job here, but we have to survive long enough to actually start meddling where we should." He said with a small bit of heat.

Viktoria was about to reply when the ship gave a lurch and the lights slammed them into darkness. Weston's grip tightened slightly. There was a stomach sinking feeling for a long moment. Viktoria didn't know whether they had dropped from warp or she was just on edge. After a long moment the emergency power came on, washing everything in a ruddy hue.

"You just had to say that didn't you?" she said, her eyes searching around.

Doc didn't answer at first, but she could feel his hands shake just the slightest bit as he brushed down the rest of the cuts. "We'd better get back…" he said grimly.