"An old belief is like an old shoe. We so value its comfort that we fail to notice the hole in it."- Robert Brault
Retreat is something new to Xavier oddly enough being that the Hoarfell advocate strategic retreat in their overall combat doctrine, though the officers told them never to tell that to anyone outside their regiment. Still being part of a combined force with the Death Korps and Randon they had never in his time retreated from a campaign, let alone in such numbers and with such haste.
It seemed to have started as soon as they had gotten out of that enemy installation, which had later been reduced to rubble via precision air-strike that Imperial officers had only recently been granted permission to utilize. The enemy had perceived the retreat of Imperial forces and had decided that rather than go after them to use the opportunity to further entrench themselves into defensive positions.
At least that was what it seemed like when the main Imperial force had left the city behind for the easier defensive positions of the trenches they had dug outside of the city limits. Xavier sighed as he looked around the dull—but well made—trench he found himself in, it had been days since they had left the city and during that time troopships had been steadily ferrying them off planet. Daring to peak over the lip of the trench he stared at the enemy city they had fought so hard to try and take, only for their superiors to order them to turn tail and run.
In the distance the strange, though not unfamiliar architecture of the Endurholdgun denizens greeted him. The past few days had brought on a gradual fog which made things appear hazy the buildings looked ominous, rising like tombstones from the thick condensation. He couldn't put his finger on it but it seemed as though the sight of the city had been growing more disturbing by the passing days.
Combined with the sudden strange shift in weather in the distance they could hear the sounds of fighting, but that couldn't be right. According to their superiors all of their forces were out of the city, and though he was inclined to disagree based on what he was hearing Xavier knew that it had to be true, for the sheer amount of guardsmen and vehicle support exiting the city about a week earlier confirmed the views of his superiors.
So that left a disturbing question, if the Endurholdguns weren't fighting them, then who were they fighting? He had asked Sergeant Grimes a day ago, the veteran had gotten a strange look about him, one Xavier wouldn't quite call fear, but as close as the veteran could get to it. Grimes had told him not to think on it, to keep a clear head, and wait for their turn to evacuate. They were last along with the Korps; the Randon had gotten out first being that the Valkyries basically all belonged to their regiment, and the Celk tank-jockeys were prioritized by command because of their specialized skill-set and expensive equipment.
Stepping down from the trench-lip Xavier went back to sitting down on the bench built into the wall with his squad-mates. Eli and Hack were playing a game of cards to pass the time, and Cain had taken to whittling a hunk of wood he had found into an aquila.
"How's it look?" Cain asked idly as he shaped the second head of the eagle.
"Eerier than yesterday, I swear it seems like it's getting worse. What the keck is with the sounds coming from the city, we're not fighting them so what could it possibly be," Xavier stated letting out a long sigh, his mind wouldn't let him leave it alone.
"There were rumours that there has been infighting among the Enders, maybe its finally reached our sector. When we pulled out maybe some dissenters decided it was time to get to work once they were done fighting us so they could try and submit once they finished what we started." Hack put in with a shrug.
"Nah, it doesn't seem like some kind of uprising, it doesn't feel right at all," Eli added his piece pulling at his collar uncomfortably.
"What do you mean it doesn't feel right?" Xavier asked noting his friends discomfort.
"How do I explain it," Eli put his cards face down ending his game with Hack who proceeded to gather up the deck. "Ever since we assaulted that Ender base I've been getting the heebie-jeebies, its like something's been building up ever since then. It's... it's like that bad feeling I get when we're travelling through the warp."
Eli was one of the few of them who had actual issues with warp travel, he got bad dreams both times when they were passing through it. Sergeant Grimes had said it was normal for most people, the ship medicae had given him an okay and some medicine to help with sleep and that had been the end of the matter.
Nonetheless a shudder had collectively run through everyone at Eli's mentioning of his feeling. There was a reason warp travel gave people issues, and it had everything to do with what lurked in the immaterium, things that were the stuff of cruel bedtime stories meant to scare little children so they'd obey their parents.
"I'm sure it's nothing to worry too much about," Hack interjected trying to get everyone's mind off of the implications Eli brought up.
The conversation ended as Hack started to deal cards for a new game to take their minds off of the thought, intentionally he included Xavier and Cain in the new game. Neither objected, Cain stowing his carving in his webbing to partake in the game and Xavier simply taking the cards he was dealt.
Things had seemed to be looking up for them when the invaders had suddenly and seemingly without reason began to retreat a week prior. Sergeant S'geck and his men had even done a little celebrating over the occasion, they had used up the reserves of whatever libations they had between them. That had been a mistake as he had found out a mere two days after the invaders had retreated. He ran a hand over his face as he remembered the beginnings of the end.
They had been fortifying defenses for what many believed would be another push from the invaders to take the city. At first the chain of command that had been established had remained intact, their higher-ups gave them direction and they carried out their orders. Then strange things started happening, orders started coming infrequently over the course of three days, by day four all that was being broadcast over comms was what sounded like insane babbling along with some rather disturbing noises that no one could identify.
S'geck had ordered full blackout of comms to save his troopers morale, they stayed in their new entrenched position since then waiting for a runner, or something from command to give them direction. The sounds of fighting in the distance came shortly after, they thought the invaders had come back for another push as had been expected. But after a small amount of time S'geck had dismissed that thought, the weapons-fire they heard was their own, nary the unique sounds of enemy energy weapons or tanks was decipherable, only their own weapons.
Then the fog came... enveloping the city like a cloak. Some among the squad swear they started to hear voices calling to them through the thick water particulates, though no one could corroborate with anyone else. By day six though they could all agree that they began to hear the echoes of frightened screams coming from all directions.
K'lara his comm. officer tried to get in touch with someone on that day to find out what was going on, S'geck wished he hadn't let her and had been ashamedly thankful he had opted not to make the call himself. Whatever she had heard had her gouging out her right ear drum with her combat knife, Haverson their heavy-weapons specialist had blasted the radio apart with his weapons before anyone else could hear whatever had driven K'lara to mutilate herself.
They had her restrained and watched over after they managed to stop her from going further than she had, as it was her right ear was completely ruined, though that didn't stop her from all but shouting madly. Something about the damned, demons, and other things that were so discomforting S'geck ordered Quin the squads medic to sedate her.
He sent out two scouts shortly after, with strict orders to report back as quickly as possible. After they were gone for eight hours S'geck knew Gunders and Keller weren't coming back which made him revert back to his original strategy of bunkering down.
Over that night two more of his troopers turned on each other with their knives for no apparent reason leaving Just S'geck, Haverson, Quin and K'lara. He and Haverson dragged the unrecognisable bodies as far away as they dared and hurried back to the nest.
"What in the hell is going on," Haverson bit out. "It can't be the invaders right? This doesn't make any sense, since when do they do freaky shite like this, I mean K'lara losing her marbles like that, and everyone for that matter. These damned voices..."
S'geck hadn't hadn't heard any voices himself, but Haverson seemed to have been having an increasingly difficult time blocking them out, Quin wasn't saying how she was holding up focusing on trying to tend to K'lara to take her mind off the situation.
"I don't know," S'geck said tiredly, the situation was beginning to get to him.
"Yeah about that... you're supposed to be our Sergeant, you're supposed to know what to do dammit! So why the hell are we just sitting on our asses instead of trying to get the hell out of here? It's obvious we're not gonna be hearing back from command, and with how things are going we'll be either dead or as nuts as K'lara in another few days." Haverson yelled out aggravated and crowding S'geck in the process.
"If you want to wander around in the fog be my guest Haverson, I won't stop you," S'geck said calmly to his fuming subordinate.
"Screw you sir," Haverson bit back shrinking away, though S'geck noted that he didn't dare leave instead opting for glaring at him from a few feet away.
"Hey will you two sto-," Quin's voice devolved into a wet gurgle. S'geck and Haverson looked over to where she was to find K'lara stabbing Quin's own combat knife repeatedly into the feebly struggling medic. A mad grin was plastered on K'lara's face, fresh blood dribbling from her ear. They were dumb-struck by the scene, Quin reaching out to them pleadingly as her friend and squad-mate ended her life in a flurry of stabs the knife making a distinct schlick each time as it entered and exited the flesh of her neck.
Eventually K'lara had managed to completely decapitate her former friend, holding the head up with that mad grin still on her face and turning to present her Sergeant and last squad-mate with her gristly prize. Quin's body twitched spasmodically under her.
It could have been the stress but S'geck swore her eyes were tinted purple and her teeth had been slightly sharpened. In shock they watched as she stood from her kneeling position thrusting out Quin's head to them and began to giggle.
"Blood for the blood god, skulls for his throne..." her near whispered statement devolved into mad fit of giggling and then full-blown laughter.
"W-w-w-what the hell," Haverson seemed to have finally cracked as he backed away slowly gaining distance from his insane former comrade. When K'lara finally dropped Quin's head making a wet plonk as it hit the ground he made a mad dash away into the fog leaving S'geck alone with her.
She looked after him as he disappeared before turning her attention to her Sergeant. "Sergeant, why are we standing here, we need to go after him," she advanced on him holding her blood soaked hands out pleadingly. "Blood for the bloo-,"
The crack of S'geck's pistol as it discharged a hyper-round into K'lara's abdomen cut her off as she came within a step of him, though only for a moment. He watched as K'lara, always quiet but loyal and optimistic looked down at the ragged hole where her right kidney wound be without flinching, reach in and coat her hand liberally with her own blood giggling all the while.
"That's the right idea Sarg!" She smeared the blood on his face running her hand almost tenderly over it. "Blood! Skulls! We need more!" she yelled out before shouldering past him and running off in the direction Haverson had taken laughing all the while.
S'geck watched her go with shock evident on his face and shaking hands, he had seen horrible things, but the sheer insanity of the situation had him cracking. He started to hear the voices, coming from the fog, barely decipherable chants urging him on to do things he would rather not. He screamed, long and hard, and loud to keep from hearing them, and then he fell to his knees and began pounding at the hard ground when that stopped working.
Once he couldn't feel his hands anymore bloodied as they were he looked up and around, he was alone save for Quin's decapitated body still faintly twitching as her severed head blinked at him. He stood up as he began to notice the forms of bodies appearing around his position from the fog in his peripheral vision, they were all his fellow soldiers...
Though their ruined armor and uniforms made them seem more like mad marauders than a disciplined fighting force. They all carried bayonets, knives, axes, anything that had a blade instead of their firearms, ritualistic symbols that hurt to look at were carved into their flesh and dried blood seemed to have become the new uniform color. K'lara stepped from the crowd effortlessly dragging a bloody Haverson with her, his legs were cut at the tendons making escape impossible and his face spoke of unadulterated fright and terror.
She stopped before her sergeant placing Haverson on his knees before him, her mad grin ever present even as Haverson blubbered and plead.
"I caught him Sarg, just for you. Thought you'd want the honor, it's fine with everyone else, just as long as blood is spilt," K'lara half-giggled out in her madness.
S'geck started to listen to the voices then, the pleads becoming clear to him in the moment urging him on and making him raise his pistol to Haverson's head with full intent to kill his subordinate. His finger tightened on the trigger, ready to pull it and do the deed, but he regain his senses before he could do it letting the pistol fall to his side and dropping it.
Looking at K'lara he noticed her smile broaden. "Here it's better to do it with this, just right into the neck, let it spurt out and work the blade around," her bloodied knife found its way into his hand. Looking down at the blade he felt his grip tighten and he arm move of its own volition to bring its tip to Haverson's jugular.
S'geck looked into his subordinates eyes for the last time before finally pushing the blade into his soft vulnerable neck. Pressure caused blood to spurt out just as K'lara had said, it spattered against his face adding to K'lara's previous contribution. It was like the warmth of it open up the floodgates to all the hate and anger contained within him, and soon he found himself stabbing into Haverson's throat just as vigorously as K'lara had Quin's.
It wasn't long before he hit the spine having sliced through the softer meat around it, Haverson hadn't struggled one bit through the whole process even as S'geck began to twist his head around to help with his decapitation. Finally S'geck claimed his prize holding Haverson's head inches from his own face and staring into his still moving eyes. Blood dripped down, the only sound to be heard in through the suddenly quiet air.
S'geck began to laugh uproariously as he was finally overtaken by sudden understanding. Looking to K'lara he saw the same understanding mixed with approval on her smiling face, he thrust Haverson's head up for the gathering around them to see.
"Blood for the blood god! skulls for his throne!" They all yelled together raising their weapons clattering into the air.
S'geck felt a grin pulling at his lips. "Blood for the blood god..." he whispered.
B-63 watched from a viewport as the last of the dropships came in to the Ipsum, concluding the evacuation of Guardsmen from Endurholdgun. Similar scenes played out all around the planet as other ships took in their cargo of Imperial lives and hardware in preparation of the planets destruction which was to take place within the hour. B-63 reflected that it always seemed to be cut very close... the destruction of planets that is, such a curious thing.
He had found B-52 earlier and they had drank in B-80 and F-920's memories, B-52 was curious as to why he hadn't asked about replacements, but he had waved it off by simply saying he had been reassigned to a command where he wouldn't need any at the moment. His friend had accepted the answer readily enough, though he had declined to watch the destruction of another world with him.
B-63 didn't blame him, he didn't really want to see it either, but he forced himself to as some kind of sick reminder of how Baurin looked when it had been destroyed. He had determined a while ago that it was some kind of way he coped with the memory of it, if it was fresh he found it easier to deal with for a reason only known to him. So he watched and waited for the inevitable... alone in the small viewing room.
It was the first time Jericus had been witness to the destruction of a world, the first time for any of the Surrins gathered around the viewing port in fact. He and Fenria had been on their was to watch as the planet their comrades had fought and died for was to be erased from the galaxy, S-360 and S-548 had the same idea as them and had joined them on their way to one of the few areas of the ship that had ports to look out of. These of course would be locked down and shut before a ship was to enter the warp, but for now they were open to allow Imperial servants one of the most frighteningly destructive though equally awesome sights known in the galaxy... Exterminatus.
It started frighteningly innocuous, one would have mistaken it for the systems sun cresting over the edge of the planet at sunrise. The light was in fact from the ignition of Endurholdgun's atmosphere as the cyclonic torpedoes fired by the Ipsum's sister ship the Renovatio broke through the various layers of planetary entry and detonated kilometres above the surface.
Despite the tremendous destruction and death that was perpetrated by the cataclysmic weapon Jericus and the others could not help but feel the sheer awe associated with Endurholdgun's demise. At least until the realization hit that millions of people had perished in the ensuing firestorms that raced across its surface and earthquakes that cracked its crust scouring any life both above and below as its core became destabilized.
It may have been xenos and traitor lives that were immediately killed, but they were still lives snuffed out for reasons beyond their ken. What wasn't beyond their understanding though was the loss of all their fellow guardsmen now seemingly made pointless by the destruction of their original goal now burning below them. The Imperium simply lost in this instance, and Jericus found himself wondering if the scant information supposedly gained from the STC had even been worth all of the lives cast by the wayside to get it.
"It almost looks like a dim sun," S-360 commented as the fires fully engulfed the surface. Her statement was correct, it had looked like a sun until the flames had died down and Endurholdgun cracked, its crusts splitting and letting loose gouts of the planets own unstable liquid mantle. Before long it looked like a dying fire, all black and glowing embers of the once mighty roar of flame. Over in a matter of minutes the planet and all that had called it home had died, its life ebbing away into the vast background of the uncaring void of space surrounding it.
"Well it's dead now," Jericus said quietly before excusing himself from the panoramic scene before him, the strange and terrible beauty was off putting, and he wasn't sure he wanted to stay around and look at it much longer. Fenria went with him, leaving S-360 and S-548 who were still watching the death rattle of Endurholdgun behind, she caught up to his retreating form right outside the viewing room.
"Where are we going," she asked casually.
"Thought it was about time to get something to eat, mess should be serving the mid-cycle meal about now," Jericus replied his tone mirroring hers.
"Sounds good," Fenria matched her pace to his own walking by his side and looking over him. He had opted to keep his damaged armor—they all had—but it still came as a surprise because his in particular was quite obviously damaged to the point where it would compromise the protection it offered in certain places. It wasn't the logical thing to do, he really should have put in a requisition for new carapace, given the fact that the Inquisitor was fully willing to get them whatever they requested within reason Jericus definitely should have gotten new armor.
Knowing him as much as she does though Fenria could hazard a guess that it was just his rebellious nature coming into play again, as much as it could anyway. Had they still been directly under the command of those within the 82nd he probably would have just gotten past any quartermasters attempts at taking away his gear by dint of it not quite being useless yet.
Then there was the fact that as soon as they had gotten him out of the medical room he had made a beeline for his axe and dagger, once the Watchmaster had let them all know they were now permitted to carry their personal weapons aboard the ship. Being in the Inquisition had its own set of perks after all, and Dauntless was fine and even encouraging about their new found privileges provided they weren't overt. No explosives, heavy weapons, or even their specialist weapons, but knives, pistols and the like were okay.
She had even decided to get a hold of her laspistol and combat knife, it had been getting to the point even before Endurholdgun where she felt naked without the consistent weight of a weapon in her hand or otherwise at her side ready to go. As it was regular Guard weren't allowed to carry weapons aboard the ship, they were allowed to keep them locked in their quarters for maintenance, but otherwise until deployment or scheduled drills they were not allowed to touch them.
Even with their new found freedom they both kept their side-arms out of sight beneath their trenchcoats so as not to raise curiosity, though if questioned by a superior they did have proper papers to present at least. Dauntless wanted to keep as low a profile as possible, thus their new agent badges were only to be flashed under the most extreme of circumstances. How the Inquisitor had gotten their new badges and status all sorted out so fast was something Fenria wondered about constantly, on Surris and in the Guard such things usually took at least a few standard days.
"These past few days have been crazy right? First getting captured, then finding an STC, getting conscripted into the Inquisition. Sure getting conscripted into the Korps back on Surris had been unexpected, but I never thought something like this would happen, the things ahead of us aren't going to be easy," she spoke with uneasy reason, things in the Guard hadn't been easy by any means so far, and she had only a frightened inkling about what paths their new profession would take them down. Probably things even worse than their mission into the Endurholdgun installation.
Jericus turned his head her way meeting her own masked gaze. "Well one good thing about everything that's happened is that at least the Korps trained us for things much worse than we've experienced so far. We'll be ready for whatever is ahead, just have to keep watching each others backs and everything will turn out okay."
"Easy for you to say, even with every wound you've gotten you're still alive. You know S-360 and S-548 think you're too stubborn to die, and I'm inclined to agree with them given I've seen the things you've survived first hand. You should be dead by now S-1049, but you're still here," she gave emphasis to his ridiculous feats of survival.
"Not all of me is still here," he flexed his right arm and pointed to his eye correspondingly a tint of subtle humor in his tone and actions, self-depreciating as it was.
"You know what I mean, just do me a favor and keep it up. We both have a personal stake in each others survival, who would remember for me if you died," the gestures of her hands and the way she leaned slightly toward him gave Jericus the full weight behind her words.
"At the rate I'm going I'm not sure how much of me will be left at the end... but don't worry I don't plan on allowing you to forget something that important, so you better be able to put up with me. I'll be around as long as you are, that's the deal," he bumped shoulders with her, quite possibly one of the few intimate gesture he had shared with another person since being conscripted.
"I'm going to hold you to that, and you better do the same for me," she bumped back in response. "So long as one of us is still moving, we don't let the other one die."
They had arrived at the mess hall by then, the lines sparse and tables empty, most on the ship were off watching the spectacle of a dying planet. Those that were getting food were either those who had seen the sight one too many times, had other duties to attend to, or simply didn't care. Queuing up they moved along the counter quickly, D-562 the ever present Korps mess Sergeant stared at them passively as he served them their food.
It was solid unlike the usual paste or porridge-like food they got periodically. It was a phenomenon they had first been made aware of after their victory on Tartarius, apparently the Danian conscript always made and served actual food at the end of a campaign. And according to the veterans it was always delicious, though it did pose a problem to the Korps in general. What happened when they couldn't slurp their food through a tube?
Very awkward meal times that's what, most chose to pull their masks halfway up their faces, just enough to allow them to get bites of the food into their mouths. The more adventurous took their ever present masks off altogether and made quick work of their meals, and those with adequate rank and pull chose to have their meals in their quarters so as to avoid exposure.
Once D-562 was done they each had generous helpings of food on their trays, an actual full-course meal consisting of grox-meat with sides of vegetables, and even a fruit. They took their drinks last and made their way to a table in a far off corner of the mess hall to dine on their meals. Sitting down they adjusted themselves to be comfortable, they were across the table from each other to better facilitate any potential conversation.
As she looked down at the food Fenria contemplated how she would be eating it, the obvious solution soon exhibited itself as she saw Jericus removing his helmet in her peripheral vision. Looking up she caught the tail end of his transformation from Death Korps grenadier back to person as he pulled the mask from his face.
She noticed his augmetic eye automatically adjust, the lenses closing as they compensated for the change in lighting from the filtered lenses of his mask to the harsher tint permeating the mess hall. His other natural green eye squinted in its own response as he looked down at his food. His skin was unnaturally pale she noticed, Surris in general hosted those of a fair countenance, but seeing as none of them really got any light at all much at all anymore she had to imagine majority of Surrins conscripted into the Korps must sport much the same pallor, including herself.
The scar tissue around his augmetic eye had grown less pronounced than it had been, having healed in the time since its transplant, though it was still noticeable. As for the rest of his face it look largely the same as when she had first seen it. As he began to eat his first natural meal in what seemed to be forever Fenria was surprised to see the barely perceptible smile that quirked on his lips as he chewed his food.
Looking back down at her own and then around them at the mostly empty mess and uncaring people spaced throughout she mustered up her own courage and began the task of getting her own mask off as well. As it finally came off she felt the familiar sense of nakedness her eyes nearly closing as the sudden brightness of the lights flooded her irises leaving her squinting for several moments before her eyes mercifully adjusted.
Breathing unfiltered air was strange to her lungs, keck even the taste of it was different, not like the crisp air of her homeworld, and not like the stale air of the Endurholdgun installation either. The Ipsum had its own taste, and thankfully it wasn't bad, or at least she didn't think so.
Jericus immediately looked up after he had heard her place her mask and helmet down on the table beside her meal. It was only the second time he had seen her face, it was bizarre, her squinting eyes made her features scrunch up which gave her the face of one afflicted with constipation... or at least he thought so, so long telling what someone was thinking through body language alone made telling by facial expressions a little foreign. Especially if you had never really personally known the person before they had the mask on.
He drunk in her expression, the small quirks of her skin as it crinkled and contorted forming something both foreign and familiar that comforted him in a way he couldn't describe. Thoughts of keeping the Emperor damned masks off flitted through his mind, after all they technically weren't under command of the 82nd as of recently. As he took in her features, now growing more familiar and etched into his minds eye the thoughts started to gain more traction. But the nagging discomfort now firmly associated with the removal of said masks then clashed full force with his new thoughts rending them from his mind.
Jericus decided that maybe it could happen one day, but not now. No for now he would just enjoy the few times he could allow himself to be unconstrained by the mask he now wore figuratively and literally. He could live with the memories of her face, and the thought of the few times in the future when he might be able to see it again.
"Try the grox, D-562 must have been a cook before he was conscripted it really tastes good, and fresh. Got to wonder where he gets the meat... or maybe try not to," Jericus finished lamely the thought that maybe he wasn't eating grox crossing his mind. Luckily the new thought managed to let him put his previous train of thought on the back-burner of his mind for the while.
Her eyes seemed to snap open and up to meet his own mismatched gaze, an expression of what he conjured to be surprise replacing that of constipation. Nodding to affirm she had heard him she looked back down at her meal to cut a piece of her allotment of grox. Spearing it with her fork she slowly placed it into her mouth and began the process of chewing. Contemplative expressions flashed across her visage as the taste impacted her causing a look of what was definitely pleasure to dominate as she finally swallowed the morsel.
"It is really good, can't wait to try out the rest of the meal," she looked back up at him flashing a smile which he returned. From there the meal progressed as they enjoyed each others company, sampling the underutilized culinary expertise of D-562.
Once they had finished their meals they both placed their masks back on where they belonged. Fenria inwardly lamenting at the now automatic response as she fastened the straps for a comfortable fit. Though she was equally comfortable with the now familiar security the barrier offered.
They were quick about getting their empty trays and drink tins back to the mess counter for cleaning, D-562 gave them both a nod as he personally took the trays and utensils from them. They nodded back in thanks conveying their enjoyment of the meal to the veteran who seemed to have a good mood about him judging from the spring in his step.
"How about we get to our new quarters and check it out?" Fenria suggested. Their new positions afforded them better accommodations than they previously had, Dauntless liked to keep them fairly close at hand and thus they were allotted cabins where he could have them reach him within a short amount of time. Used to sharing a cabin they had opted for the same one, a request which the Inquisitor was willing to grant, though they had gotten a few wolf whistles from Schmidt and Gunther as they were present for the meeting.
S-360 and S-548 had gotten the same when they had made the same request, meanwhile Watchmaster B-63 had simply wanted a room close by to theirs as well so he was close to his team. The cabins themselves were in a closed off part of the ship on the upper decks in a hall requisitioned by Dauntless for his own habitation and that of his retinue.
It was a realm foreign and unknown to them, populated by those of decidedly higher status than they were used to. Below them were the decks meant for the tag-along population of regiment supporters, civilians, and those who dedicated and ran their businesses on the wages of the guardsmen they shared the ship with. Below these decks was where they had originally been, the trooper decks to house the regiments occupying the Ipsum during transport.
Truthfully they looked completely out of place and the residents gave them a wide berth in response. Though likely used to the sight of Dauntless and his odd assortment of agents they likely had not seen Death Korps up so high before. Those around them were of high status within Imperial society who had booked passage on the Ipsum to drop them off on planets it was passing by where they might have business to attend.
"Hey you two! Was wondering when the first of ya would be arrivin' up here, glad ta see its my favorites of the batch," Schmidt greeted waving to them from his place at the side of the hall out of the way of the light traffic of passengers passing by. Jericus and Fenria made their way over to the bearded man, who was dressed in what looked to be the working cloths of a deckhand.
"Come ta see yer new accommodations I take it eh," he drawled out, at their nods he continued. "Right well let me be the first ta welcome you to our little community, word of warnin' outside of the team these blighters aren't likely ta take to ya what with ya being dressed like that all the time. You'll have free run of the businesses and services offered at various establishments what with how much Dauntless pays us and the clout he commands. And I ken Dauntless has already told you all what being an agent entails and so forth and so on, so I won't be borin' ya with any 'o that, so right then any questions?"
"Do you know where our room is?" Fenria spoke up, truth be told they both had no idea. Quarters weren't easily marked up here as they were down below and they had been wondering how they were going to find their new cabin once they had entered the deck.
"Ah, that's what I was waitin' fer, thought you lot would be needin' help navigating what with the difference in high-deck layouts and signs," Schmidt leaned back and crossed his arms thoughtfully. "You two'll be three rooms down from me, that-a-way. Have fun with getting' settled and all that good stuff, if'n yer lookin' fer something ta do later me Gunther and some of the others like to go to the lounge down a ways fer drinks and general merriment. You lot are more than welcome to come if you want." He finished with a smile.
"We might thank you," Jericus responded nodding in gratitude. Schmidt waved them off as they went along their way leaving him at his post supposedly to greet their comrades when they finally made their way up to the deck. Going down three rooms as Schmidt had said they came to the door leading to their new quarters, Fenria took out one of the two key cards they were given and swiped it in the lock pad and proceeding to enter the combination given to them as well.
The door hissed open allowing them the first view of their new life.
A/N: Well, this is becoming a bad habit... but sorry for the lateness. Other than that I hope you're all enjoying the story and this latest chapter, as always kindly review if you please, critiques and corrections welcome.
Shout-outs:
JohnDoeSIGMA1- Glad to know you're still enjoying the story despite the change from expected direction. Pray tell how exactly did you want it to turn out? I'd be very interested to know should you be willing to share. I'm always open for suggestion and the way the plot is currently I feel I can be very flexible, though I've got it mostly lined up.
CookieMonsta1233- Could have gone for the shock factor, but I admit it wasn't really on my to do list given the Exterminatus and all the death that would imply, the Krieger was S-1050/Fenria if that wasn't clear, I'll go back and check that out so thanks for the heads up.
Lord Sadacchus- Glad to hear you've been enjoying the story so far, by now I'm sure you've read the terrible conclusion to your feeling and I hope it wasn't a disappointment. Thank you kindly for your review and I must say I was glad to read that you're a shakespeare reader, though I must admit I find the plays a bit boring myself (Too many modern tastes clogging my judgement) I have a great respect for the structure of his writing. This story was actually as I think I stated in ch 1 if I recall correctly an experiment to test out a few different writing styles and techniques. Kind of a growth piece for me if you will,(Or at least an attempt at one) anyway I'm glad I was at least able to hook on to something that you found worthwhile to read.
Imperial Servant- Hope this chapter lived up to your expectations, I have adressed most of what you were wondering about in your review. Though if the detail of it did not satisfy worry not I intend for it to be adressed more in the next chapter, at least in passing. Hope you're enjoying the read.
gwb99- Glad the chapter entertained you, hope this one didn't disappoint. And yes you are very right about their luck, though I would say working for the Inquisition has some (very minor though they may be considering the danger) perks. We shall see how their luck continues to unfold, hope to have you along for the ride.
Thanks to all who have favorited, alerted, and of course reviewed. I endeavour to get the next chapter up within the usual two week schedule, though if I don't rest easy knowing that I at least intend to keep this beasts updates up to two chaps per month. See you all then!
300-709.