Chapter 3

Ibrahim had heard the shooting, the trembling of the explosion, the chalk falling on him whenever a xeno shot through the building and against the wall of the little street.

He is the bigger one, so he had been the one to look at the battle, ready to shout for the toddlers to run, and to hold off the xenos.

He was the big one, after all.

Then the sounds stopped, there were no more tremors, and the dust didn't get up no more.

Jadda.

The smell of sweat, of piss and of blood.

Jaddi.

The others were all looking at him, and praying, and crying.

Jadda and Jaddi, no longer there.

He smiled at them, like Jadda did when she put them under the floorboards, while Jaddi prepared to move the table and took a carpet they used to cover the windows with.

And the last thing they had seen, before they closed the hole, was Jadda smiling at them and saying "Stay there until you hear nothing more, and all will be alright".

He had believed her.

Then there were voices, hisses, xenos talking.

And the warm feeling of liquid on him, dripping on him through the carpet and the small cracks of the pavement.

Then more hisses started, along with an scream that made them all scared, and the familiar las he had connected with the Quwat came in response, and then silence.

They were all trembling in that moment, huddled closer to each other, all the while two sets of steps came closer and further to where they were.

The warmth was still all over him, and then muffled voices, too muffled to know if enemies or friends, got over the hidden cove they were.

Then they heard shuffling above them and then they all saw light.

And they all had screamed then.

Not...very good for someone who should have had to be the bigger one.

And here they were now, waiting after what sounded like a fight between gangers and the Quwat, waiting and waiting, incoherent and deep shouts being answered with the sounds of las.

Waiting like Jaddi made them wait, keeping them hidden with Jadda under the floor while he kept the lookout.

Waiting like Jadda made them wait, smiling at them while they were scared, and trembling, and didn't know when it would all end.

But they weren't there anymore, and the soldiers of the Quwat outside weren't Jaddi or Jadda, so he tried to smile.

He tried to hug small Farah, who didn't have her doll, bought by Jaddi.

He tried to say to little Amir that all would be well, but he didn't have the soothing voice of Jadda.

He wasn't them.

Then, after a few moments, the incoherent shouts had stopped, and a few moments more the sounds of fighting had stopped as well.

Farah trembled in the hug, while sniffles were all around.

Then a face, an human one, a friendly one, with brown eyes, came in front of the door of the moving box and, with a smile that he had seen many times on Jadda, gave words tired but happy at the same time:

"Little ones, we have done it, now we move towards the outpost in Ganun and we will be secure there, and all will be alright."

It was just like Jadda. But this time he didn't know if, even with the white haired man, he could believe her.

Sergeant Merrick

"The 85th outpost should be close, we have reached the Qanun's outskirts, and the guns firing are Zuhurian, the Omnissaiah be willing."

Merrick didn't answer to Van Shon's words, shouted over the engine of the Chimera, and looked up at the tattered flags they had put high.

The 85th Vendoland, of Cadian stock and Vendoland growth, had been in this rock fighting against rebels, then Greenskins and knife-ears incursions, for a year.

Really, it could have been a worse year. It could have been raining like at home.

"You are sure we aren't going to be bombed, right sarge?"

Corporal Lymasnne said what he, and probably the rest of the cunts, were thinking aloud.

Unfortunately, he was the one in charge, so he answered with a smile on his face, that never reached his eyes: "Hopefully they aren't so daft to think we are xenos, no? The rebels here have become much quieter."

Quieter, but not by much.

Lymsanne knew that, he could see it from the tightening of her lips, but she just strap on the helmet and turned forward, her eyes already looking towards any kind of cover.

The white-haired man, instead, was behind them, content with following them, the lasgun from soldier Berlynda now being in his care.

Now that was an interesting question, the reason for why such a man was there.

It was also a question better be left unanswered, he rather liked his head.

One didn't live for so long in the guard without at least understanding that some questions were better left unanswered.

The sound of the firing guns, and the tremors of them, came closer, and closer, and then we reached the splendid, almost divine, sight of the 85th banners, and two Russes and a checkpoint.

There was also the less splendid, and less divine sight of the new commissar, "Commissar Adrastia", who looked down at us from her high point on the Russ, sneering at us all the while.

Still don't get why she became the regiment Commissar while Bernn stepped under her, but look at the previous point.

No questions about command chains, surety of avoiding strange gazes.

At least, no questions when it wasn't necessary to not die.

"Lady, Sergeant Merrick and what remains of the fifteenth platoon!"

He made an almost perfect salute, followed by most of the other guards.

Almost all, to be honest.

Almost all, but one now to be mentally named "asshole" with the red jacket, who just stared at us, then at commissar, and then stopped and lazily put his hand in a salute, an almost whimsical smile on his lips.

The commissar, for her part, did stare at the man for a few moments, almost unsure of what a sight he was, then she barked out:

"Sergeant, where did you find such a poor excuse of discipline!? Should I question more about your behaviour since we lost contact with your unit?!"

Merrick did sigh under his breath, but after a few thoughts about how he could explain this in the most polite way possible, he answered while keeping his back straight:

"Lady commissar, we found him while we were being attacked by a band of Xenos which left us without Voxes! He had a key role both against knife ears and the green skins!"

Naturally he had to give it in a loud voice, due to the roars of artillery very close to their position.

"Oh, so him being a good shot is enough for him to disregard the basic discipline, is it?!"

Merrick would have liked to be anywhere but there, in that moment.

Then the man of the hour opened his mouth, and Merrick truly desired to be that:

"I apology to stop your inquisition, commissar, but we have bigger things to think about, do we not?"

This fraking moron.

Merrick waited for the crack of the laspistol.

He waited some more.

Then the Commisar's voice arrived, and it was quite different in tone than what he thought, almost…annoyed instead of apoplectic:

"So others found out too, didn't they? This isn't where they should be."

Then she turned towards Merrick, and ordered without missing a beat, and throwing at him a pointy officer hat and grades to put on his uniform:

"Lieutenant Merrick, we have a new duty given by the lord general himself! We will need to scout a secondary avenue for the regiment to reach Angel's forge as fast as humanly possible, nay, faster if necessary, and it will be! You have four hours of rest before we move!"

Merrick just stared ahead while keeping up the salute, and internally he screamed against many things.

He was able to ask a question, though, trying to keep his control:

"Lady commissar, do I have permission to requisition men? The platoon is severely understaffed after the patrol!"

In a few heartbeats, the answer came, and it wasn't the one he wanted:

"Permission denied! All reserves here were already given their own tasks, and cannot be repurposed for a less dangerous and less onerous objectives such as scouting!"

Merrick now wanted to strangle the red clad stranger, but he didn't do that.

Instead, they were let through and were sent to at least get some warm nothing soup instead of cold nothing rations.

Warm nothing spicy soup, sorry.

He couldn't understand why so many of the troop liked that.

And, because the white haired fraker wasn't around, he was left to be congratulated for his impromptu promotion by a famous drink in this place.

Something that tasted more like oil than liquor, and that the new children (his children, not those that now had left the Chimera and were scampering around the outpost with bright eyes) giving far too many pats on his back and his bald head.

There was a bigger part of them, and of him, that needed to be happy about something in these miserable times; after all, on his hip, the chainsword he had now wasn't his, and he knew where it came from, and when its owner had lost it.

The red clad man, the reason why he could now use it at all, was resting on a chimera, and wasn't listening to the word passed beside him by a techboy and Van Schon about the rites they would need to make sure that the once damaged vehicle could be said safe to move.

The fraker had asked if he could follow them, he had asked the Lady, who gave a quick nod at that, probably because she thought as well that if he was there something had to be done well and good.

The whole outpost, Merrick noted was moving around, like many purple ants creating their bone nests at home, and the supplies that weren't immediately needed were already being prepared to be moved, and the logistical trucks were being repaired as fast as possible, the techboys having taken volunteers from the more mechanically minded people in the regiment to help.

After the grub, and after the observation, there was a lot of motions to be done.

He would have to requisite, at the very least, grenades, first aid kits, food, water and some spare lasguns.

That's without counting the fuel and liquids for the vehicles.

And along with that, he could also juggle some better rations thanks to his new grade, which gave a lot of gifts that his children would be happy to have after having to join a commissar for another patrol, so soon after a botched one.

He couldn't do the same with the techboys and techgirls, unfortunately, but it's not like they would give them something he would like with such a small advancement.

A plasma rifle, for example.

And so, with an heavy hair, the halvened platoon met again at the north entrance of the forward base, and while the artillery had stilled for the moment, the air was heavy for the convoy, being formed with two chimeras and two truck with the necessary things in it.

Needing to patrol to find a way for Malak's forge meant that there was a high chance that the front wasn't going well, or that something else was going to happen.

At least, that's what he thought, but he said to the men that it was a low objective, given to them because it wouldn't be nearly as dangerous, and because it would bring them right to their own fifth line.

They didn't believe it, he could see it, but they cheered nonetheless, because the hope it was true beat the heavy truth of the matter.

The lady commissar was there as well, having taken place on the commander seating of a Chimera, and was waiting for them all to arrive.

And with "them all", Merrick meant the fraker, who only now was arriving with a bored gait, his swords at his sides and a new lasgun on his back, behavior that made the commissar's frown deepen.

"Good! Our dear guest arrived! What made you arrive so late, dear guest!?"

Aaaah, that tone made Merrick remind of the first days of training, when I still had hair and when all wasn't shit.

"Well, to answer your inquisition, Commisar Adrastia, I had to look around at the fine examples of work of the imperial guard and of above all the weapons, due to losing my own gun at the hand of an…ork nob. Is my answer satisfactory for your inquisitive disposition, Commissar Adrastia?"

Merrick could see the commissar's hand tightening around the laspistol, but for some reasons, which would maybe sounded good if she actually gave them, she didn't move.

Instead she ordered: "Let the jokester march, while the disciplined soldiers of the imperial guard get on the Chimeras! Onwards to Hub Spire Legis!"

Well, at least there would be space.

And so, at around midday, we started to march towards the hub spire Ganun, or as the administratum called it "Hub Spire Legis".

Hopefully the God Emperor wouldn't let anything happen, and just let us make way fast through the spire's labyrinthine paths.

Omar Van Schon

"Aren't you happy, Omar? We are going back to your home, at least close to it!"

The road weren't good here, due to the attacks, it seems.

Omar didn't answer at Nahal's local Vox, and thanks the Omnissaiah, the machine spirits and the motive force for having working Voxes again, at least music was good, but he knew she would badger him.

"Come on, noble boy, you know that it's a good thing! Maybe we can get better food as well! Do you know how much it has passed since we got meat? Since a sana ago! When you bought it to me!"

Omar really would have liked that the local Vox had fried, and, may the machine spirits inside forgive him, that there hadn't been replacements or way to repair it.

"Come on, I want some kosksi! The soldiers in the back want it too!"

There were shouts of agreement in the vox, but he was steadfast in that.

"Nahal, we won't go near the Schon factory. The most direct route won't go near there."

He most certainly didn't sigh at that.

"Well, we can always hope, can we not?"

No, it was better not to hope about this, above all due to how he left his ancestral home.

And so, he let Nahal annoy him while he was on the back, Caleb's look of faint amusement not helping his sighs, while his tea did help to at least make the boring passage through the spire less soporiferous.

While the Ganunses weren't bad, they were downright subservient most of the time, his own status wouldn't help at all.

Not when his own presence in the Quwat force, and then the 85th Vendoland, would give them quite the reward from his family.

The tea cups were being passed between the two, and the soldiers in the back, a whole lot until they reached a logistical checkpoint, an tertiary artery for the front.

Or, as people should be aware of, a bridge.

The remains of a bridge.

While Omar remained on the driver seat, the soldiers around asked questions, and they found out that the Schons had ordered the destruction of the bridge a week before.

Without saying anything to the Guard.

Splendid.

And so the Commissars, with the help of the serg-lieutanant Merrick lead us to the next path, which would be longer, but still well protect, and around several air-turret outposts.

The problem was that, due to Eldar attacks, one outpost had been damaged enough to make any kind of movement by a large military column, or even a chimera, through it impossible.

And so, another road was decided.

"I said it Omar, we are going back to your castle!"

His grip to the wheel tightened.

Which would be going through the Schon's sector of the spire, and more in particular, through its factory.

"Now we will get meat!"

His teeth started grinding tightly, his nostrils flaring.

There was a roar of approval from the soldiery, while calm, composed and above all silent Caleb gave him another cup.

All the while, the red clad, white haired man, was looking less and less cheery, even if he had been let inside a Chimera after the first parasang or so of march.

At least he was silent.

With a heavy sigh, he started the Chimera for the third time today, while the setting sun prayer was approaching fast.

The road were well kept, due to the Schons and the legions of workers, whose houses were as well kept as they could be in the high spires of this planet.

Many military outposts, all belonging to the Schon, were put on the road, which was being reinforced with barbed wire, chokepoints, autocannons, war servitors, and all kind of war gear.

The Schon's militia had many in the having augmented body parts: some had metallic arms, some had legs, some had eyes or even the whole body, and most of them wasn't strictly due to accidents.

And they were glaring at them, with something more akin to hatred than rivalry, and their commanders could feel it, because they made soldiers get down and march beside the chimeras, the red clad man standing alongside the commissar and the ser-lieutenant Merrick.

They made us stop at each and every outpost, and each and every one had the Schon's beside them, and a new symbol, instead of the stylized gear, was on them.

The gear had remained, thanks the Omnissaiah, but now on a lot of those men there was a smaller one inside.

What looked to be a snake snarling, with a big crest on its back, now stood menacingly on the cog of his family.

AN

In case you also read God of swords, welcome back.

In case you don't, and were waiting for the chapter of this fic, I apologise, but life hasn't been fun all around.

Interesting, but not fun at all.

Now, this will be updated alongside GoS, if possible alternating weekly.

P a treon . com (slash) Manram

Ko-fi . com (slash) manram

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