A routine patrol has turned into the most awkward experience of Roger Wessyng's life. Forced to deal with sudden tensions between warriors under his command, a bad situation only becomes worse. As if that was not enough for the poor serjeant, he is informed of a new unwanted, and unwilling, arrival to the Leopards...

It was probably shock that prevented Roger Wessyng from pushing Morgyn off of him. He sat there, stunned and unmoving as the Xenos ' warm lips held against his. He shuddered as his brain finally realized what was going on. He was still on top of her and moved his hands to gently grab her arms. Peeling her off him, he looked straight into her eyes, feeling her breath against his cheeks.

"Morgyn."

"Roger."

"What was that for?"

Her face became filled with embarrassment, nearly tossing him off her as she swung away, turning her back to him. There was a long silence, Roger still trying to comprehend what just happened. Finally, the dark-skinned Eldar spoke.

"I… do not know."

"You don't know?"

"No."

Roger finally stood up and moved closer to her.

"I sort of want an answer."

She was still curled up and looking away from him, her head on her knees. He slowly sat down next to her, growing frustrated at her evasion.

"I'm sorry serjeant," she mumbled.

"Sorry for what? You aren't that bad at it. And believe me, your mouth is probably cleaner than most of my kind. You just needed to give me a warning first."

He then laughed a bit, looking over to her. Then he heard sniffling, and she raised her head, tears streaming down her face.

"I'm a freak. As if I was not already the odd one out. Now they are going to call me a Mon-Keigh fucker."

The harsh word was surprising enough, but Roger had never seen an Eldar cry, he wasn't even sure they ever did.

"All you did was kiss me. And what do you mean "odd one out?" Hold on-"

Roger rummaged through one of his pockets, pulling out a small handkerchief he had carried since his first campaign as a good luck charm and handing it to Morgyn. She took it and started to dab the tears from her face.

"I take it you've noticed I do not really look or act like most of your warriors."

"You do stick out a bit."

She sniffled again and smiled.

"My parents were a bit more…liberal, I believe the word is, in your language. They were pirates, raiders for pay and the thrill of the hunt. They left their belongings and me on Ducaish. Believed that they would not survive. They were correct."

"I heard that."

"They were heroes to the people who before their distress call would have sneered or looked down on them. Even with my parents' sacrifice, I have still had to deal with a…"

She frowned, trying to think of the word in Low Gothic.

"What do you call it when you are looked down on without anyone truly knowing about you?"

"Bloody hell, there's a lot. Stigma?"

"Yes, that. Even to join the ranks of the Avengers here took more than a bit of convincing."

"But you seem to be perfectly capable, why would anyone look down on you?"

"Because all the Craftworlders say how open and knowledgeable they are, but if you were not born there, you are not one of them."

"I'm… sorry to hear that. I wasn't aware you had to deal with that. But what does that have to do with, you know."

Her arm suddenly grabbed Rogers, who jolted a bit at the motion.

"I feel a connection to you no one else here does. We're both outsiders. We're strangers to the people we are supposed to be standing and fighting with. You're the first of any kind that I have felt anything approaching an understanding of how it feels. Do you not feel alone here?"

Roger looked at the ground and tightened his jaw. She wasn't exactly wrong. Even though he had spent a month with nobody but the Leopards, he still felt distant, Kallen and maybe Enya excluded. But the former was more because he was the most human acting Eldar he had met, and the latter for… well, that was a whole different can of worms.

"I understand your point."

"I knew you would," she said as she let Rogers arm go. She had thankfully stopped crying.

"Well I'm glad we can find some common ground. So why did you do…that."

Morgyn blushed again and shrugged her shoulders.

"I do not know."

They both sat in silence for what seemed like hours. Finally Roger stood up and dusted himself off.

"Well, I'll just have to accept that as an answer for now. Come on, we need to get back on patrol."

He stuck out his hand to Morgyn, who looked at it for a few moments before grabbing it and lifting herself up.

"Thank you serjeant."

"Just doing my duty. Now, I think you and I will have to not tell anyone what happened here."

"Agreed. It would be very embarrassing. Especially you having to save me from being detected earlier."

"I was referring to the… ah. I see what you're doing. Here's how you can pay me back."

"Pardon, serjeant?"

"Help me get up these bloody dunes without stumbling like a moron, and I'll forget as well."

XXXXXX

Climbing over the lip towards the oasis, the two had a harder time of it than they thought.

"Are all you Mon-Keigh this heavy?" Morgyn grumbled as they neared the top.

"First off, rude, and second, we can't all have armor that protects you like a tank and barely weighs anything."

"Forgive me Roger, I forget myself sometimes."

"Just help me up."

Finally crossing the lip, as he got back on his feet, he looked out across the endless sand in the direction of the oasis.

"We'll have to do this all over again."

"I told you of the difficulties getting here before we left."

"And I should have listened to you," he said, smiling at her.

Morgyn looked at the ground and bit her lip, seemingly deep in thought. Suddenly, her eyes looked into Rogers.

"Serjeant, as we were trying to get over that dune, I tried to think of what I really wanted to say back at the road."

"We said we wouldn't-"

Her hands softly grabbed both of his and pulled him closer.

"Roger, I have come to the conclusion that I… deeply care for you. And I have no adequate way of expressing it. That's why I did… that. I know we've only known each other for a few of your weeks, and you have only talked to me a few times, but I find your presence comforting."

Roger blinked and looked back into her steel gray eyes. He realized she wasn't jesting, or even trying to be overdramatic. This was a woman, an Eldar woman, confessing to him in her own, confused, still undecided way.

"I…greatly appreciate your honesty, Morgyn. I don't think I need to tell you our friendship could face problems."

She shuddered and squeezed his hands.

"I am-I-" she stuttered.

"I did not mean to- Roger, I do not know what I am feeling or why towards you, but I want your help in figuring out why I do."

"I'll be glad to help."

"And we will keep this secret?"

"Of course. Besides, there's only one other Eldar I know of who would be seriously angry at us doing this, and she is far away."

Just then, he felt a sudden chill. And the feeling, imprinted on human nature since its earliest days, that he was being watched. He turned his head slowly, the rest of his body frozen in fear and realization. Standing twenty feet away, a redheaded Eldar in Ranger gear was staring daggers into the both of them. Morgyn looked her way as well, tensing as if ready for combat.

"That other Eldar wouldn't happen to Anya, would it?" she asked.

"It certainly would be."

Morgyn let go of Roger's hands and spun around in front of him, drawing the ceremonial dagger all Avengers were equipped with. He watched in horror as Anya drew the sword at her side, dropping her rifle in the sand before raising her blade to eye-level. Finally, she spoke.

"Get away from my Mon-Keigh," she hissed.

Standing in stunned silence, Roger could only be a spectator to the coming disaster. Moving slightly away from Morgyn, he could only guess as to what the two were saying, the pair having switched to their native tongue. Whatever they were saying, it was getting more and more heated and personal. He was hoping it would only stay at words, but a silence that was broken by Anya saying some sort of insult with a smirk caused an already boiling pot to burst. Morgyn snarled and charged at her with frightening speed, but the Ranger parried the dagger strike with ease, and the duel commenced.

Watching from a safe distance, Roger watched the two be in an almost dance, graceful and terrible at the same time. Every few strikes, they would break away, one commenting towards the other, leading to an even more vicious reply of blades. By all accounts, Anya should have had an easy fight of it, considering she had a sizable sword, but Morgyns skill with the dagger was second to none. It was a testament to the natural skill and talent of the Avenger school that despite the supposed disadvantages, Morgyn held her own.

"I'll let you two blow off some steam," he meekly said, watching as another round of insults and blades struck home.

He wasn't sure what material the weapons were made of, but it had to be something beyond inhuman, because he had seen the work they did on the human body, but with every parry and block, instead of the familiar crash and scrape of steel, it was silent. He thought he should ask Alwyn if he could get one. Or at the very least, find out what he needed to do to get awarded one. He suddenly realized the gravity of the situation he was watching as he thought of the Farseer. What would she do if her apparently beloved daughter was killed? And not even in combat with a foe, but with a supposed fellow in arms. And if she found out that they fought and killed for him…

"Alright you two, stop!" he yelled, trying to get their attention.

They ignored him or didn't hear, focused on striking at one another once again. Then he saw it: the two had given each other deep cuts, Anya a few gashes on her arms, and Morgyn having one run down her midriff to her groin, an almost perfect center cut. Realizing that he needed to act before it got any worse, he charged towards the two, stopping as they struck once again. He tried to get their attention once again.

"Stop goddammit! Stop! Now!"

Not looking at him, the two finally spoke.

"If you knew what she said, you'd let me gut her!" Morgyn said in a rage.

"This is between her and I, Roger, do not interfere!"

"She-" Morgyn started before slicing down again,

"-started it!" Anya cried as she caught the dagger and held it still.

The two were now at a stalemate, the Ranger unable to move her sword, and the Avenger having trapped herself with the dagger close to Anya's throat. The first one to break it would have the opportunity to finally end this, and Roger knew it. His mind raced as he thought of how to stop them from killing one another, or worse, each other. He didn't know how to calm enraged Eldar, or how to even stop one in a relatively peaceful situation. Then he had an idea. A stupid, badly thought one, but he had few options. Remembering the fights his father had to break up between him and his brothers, Roger rushed forward and did the only thing he could think of.

"ENOUGH!" he yelled, and then, darting his arms forward, grabbed the two Eldar's ears.

They both quickly dropped their weapons, Anya letting out a gasp, Morgyn eliciting a moan, and both crumpled to the ground, the Ranger on her knees, the Avenger falling flat on her face. They both were shivering, panting hard, probably after the exertion of the fight they had been involved in. Anya had her arms covering her chest, Morgyn putting one hand between her thighs.

"Well," Roger said, surprised at the reaction. "Dad would've loved it if we just gave up like that."

XXXXXX

A few minutes later, they both were on their knees, looking ashamed and dejected, definitely as embarrassed as Roger hoped they would be.

"I'm very, very disappointed in the both of you. I don't know what you two are getting all worked up over, but what the hell did you even expect to come out of this? If one of you died, I'd have to explain it, and to put it bluntly, my ass would be finished!"

Anya finally spoke.

"What were you two doing? Getting close, holding hands and all of that? I want an explanation!"

"That is none of your concern!" Morgyn said, her face still slightly red for some reason.

"Roger, I-"

"She is right Anya, it is none of your business. She was helping me up one of these damned sand dunes, do you want her to drag me by my damned ankles? Get serious."

The three were in silence for a minute, all of them unsure what to say. Finally, Roger exercised his command and finished the nightmare scenario for good.

"Alright you two, you are going to get along, no messing around, no nonsense. Neither of you say a damned thing about the fight, or anything else that happened here. Anya, you came to check on our patrol because we hadn't come back on time. Morgyn, anyone asks you about that cut, make something up. Understood?"

"Yes," the two said, like petulant children who had been caught doing something wrong.

"That's yes, serjeant."

"Yes, serjeant," the two said through gritted teeth.

"Good. Now let's get back to base. I've had a long bloody night."

The three moved across the dunes in silence, none of them wanting to speak of what happened. Roger found the silence unbearable and tried to make conversation.

"So Anya, where are you supposed to be?"

"My watch ended not long ago. I'm supposed to be resting."

"You're doing a terrible job of it, I'm afraid. How long have you been watching us?"

"Long enough," she growled while glancing at Morgyn.

"Did you see that vehicle earlier?"

Anya nodded as she glided over the sands, moving with barely any noise.

"Yes, it was one of those light vehicles you told us about. One driver and what seemed to be a turret mount with a gunner on the rear."

"Did you see it before we noticed?"

"I regret saying no, serjeant."

"Well, next time we try to reconnoiter the roads, we need to be sure of anything that could happen.."

He turned to Morgyn.

"I apologize for that, I should have thought about the fact we had no over watch and no intel. If something would have happened to you, it would have been my fault."

"Apology accepted, serjeant. I did not think you would go all the way out to the road and failed to prepare as well."

"Well I'm the commander, so all fault goes to me."

"Understood."

Silence reigned for most of the journey back to the oasis, but as they closed in, Morgyn spoke.

"I will go on ahead and notify the sentries of our return."

"Very well," Roger said. "Tell Kallen, Moire and Cruniach that we're holding a meeting tomorrow morning. As soon as I wake up and can actually think about things at least."

The Avenger nodded and picked up her pace, disappearing over a dune as Roger and Anya were left alone.

"Well at least she follows orders," he said with a hint of sarcasm.

"What do you mean?"

"You were supposed to be getting some rest, and instead, you decided to follow me across an ungodly amount of desert, and for what?"

"I do not trust her."

"You think she is going to slit my throat? Kidnap me? I doubt that very much. Or is it the fact that there is an Eldar that I can tolerate being alone with, which is bad enough, but a female one?"

The Ranger grimaced and said nothing, to Rogers mild frustration.

"And another thing before we get back. What do you mean "My Mon-Keigh?"

Anya stopped walking and looked at Roger, her face a mix of frustration and surprise.

"I found you first! If it was not for me, where would you be? Probably still on the firing line. If I hadn't recommended you to my mother, you would be dead, executed and thrown in a ditch as yet another casualty of your forces' paranoia and religious zealotry! I-"

She paused and her face went sallow, her shoulders sagging.

"I… just feel like I'm more deserving of your attention than her. And I believe you and I have a bond closer than anything she thinks you two have."

Roger stopped in his tracks and looked back at Anya, trying to comprehend what she was saying.

"I… see."

The two stood there in awkward silence for a few moments before Anya spoke again.

"I thought we had a closer bond than just being comrades in arms. I worry now that you do not see it that way, or you find my presence intolerable."

Roger balked and shook his head.

"Well, you have been watching me constantly, so that puts a strain on one's cordial relations. But I don't hate you. I've come to value you as a member of my command."

He scratched the back of his head.

"Morgyn's definitely pushed hard at me for God-Emperor knows what, but she didn't save my ass twice, actually three times. Unlike a certain someone I know."

Anya seemed to regain some of her energy at this and slowly nodded before Roger continued.

"Speaking of which, remember when you gave me that idea to use Anxo on Sal-Hadin? That talk alone is worth more than any of your observations."

"What do you mean?"
"We can be friends, but only if you stop stalking me. All you have to do is just treat me normally and actually be upfront with me."

Anya scratched her nose, shivering at the cold.

"I will… try to do that."

"It's not that hard, I assure you. Now come on, let's get back to camp."

He started heading forward when he looked back to see her not moving.

"What now?"

"I saw you and Morgyn… holding hands."

"We were not going to talk about anything that happened tonight, so-"

"I'll come back to camp and try to "treat you normally", but I have a condition."

"And that is?"

She held out her hand towards him. Roger stared at it for a moment before he realized what she wanted.

"You can't be serious."

"I am."

"The others would see it."

"I'll let go as soon as I know we are not safe. I know the others on watch and how good they are."

"I don't think-"

He put his palm to his face and pulled down, a mixture of exhaustion, confusion, and annoyance.

"All right, but as soon as it's not safe we'll-"

He felt her grab his hand and drag him towards the oasis, quickly getting to her pace. It felt strange, holding hands with a Xeno. What would the Archbishop think of it? Was something like this against the Emperor's teachings? A grin went across his face as he thought of Commissar Lucan seeing the display. Probably would have died of a stroke before he could rip Roger to pieces. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Anya notice his grin, not knowing what it was for. But as they moved hand in hand to the oasis, he saw a slight smile on her face.

XXXXXX

Roger essentially crawled into his sleeping bag and crashed into slumber almost immediately. The night had been extremely informative, in some ways not intended or wanted, but it was not a total waste. Awoken by the increasing heat, he crawled out of his bag and slowly regained his senses as he took a swig of water from his canteen. He thought of heating up one of his ration kits, but decided against it as he seemed to sicken at the thought of eating yet another poorly made meal. He decided to convene the Council of Four, as he called it, to update them on the situation. Having gathered them, he told them of the events the previous night, highly redacted of course, but still useful information abounded.

"Essentially, we could wipe out a convoy and damage their supply stream with a single, well aimed ambush," Roger said at the end of the report.

The three Eldari commanders seemed intrigued by the idea, but, as any good subordinates should do, quickly pointed out issues with the plan.

"Let us say you do destroy the road and make it unusable. They would probably move all traffic that would be lost to the other route," Moire said. "And we can not attack at the same time, as you know, they stagger the convoys by thirty minutes."

Cruniach spoke next.

"We could find a way to delay the other convoy. Then hit them both at once."

"They most likely have contingencies for such a situation," Kallen grumbled before looking at Roger. "Or would they?"

The three looked at him for an answer. One of the reasons Roger had been accepted into command, as it turned out, was that Eldar could not truly understand the human thought process, military theories and practices. Questions like these were unanswerable even to the most observant Ranger.

"Most of the forces we're up against here are former PDF, local Defense Forces, trained by veterans or experienced life-time troops. They would probably follow basic tactics and never deviate, so it would really depend on who's in charge. If we get a fresh, never deployed PDF lieutenant, he could just order the convoy's to continue because he's been ordered to ensure their safe arrival. If we go up against someone who has been through the wringer, as the phrase goes, he may hold the other convoy in place until the other can move again, keeping one convoy intact if the other one is hit."

The three Eldari thought over this.

"So it could be something as simple as luck determining our success?" Moire asked.

"Luck is the third most important factor of Guard operations, behind discipline and training."

"I think we should assess our individual forces and create a draft, as you humans say, of an ambush plan that could be put into use," Kallen said after a momentary silence.

"It would have to be a gamble," Cruniach quietly spoke. "We would have to essentially put all our forces into danger. I do not believe we could even leave guards for our camp."

Moire nodded and showed concern.

"We will have to determine something that would be suitable and decisive, but I am not prepared to risk everything for a rather minor operation like this."

"I understand, and you two are right," Roger responded. "But I think if we can get a good plan together, we can figure something out. Here's what we'll do: ask around for suggestions among your people. We'll work through this and get a good plan together. But to get something that comes together, we have to work together."

The three looked at him.

"Was that supposed to be thoughtful?" Moire asked

"I tried. I didn't say it would work or was good, but I tried."

Cruniach shook his head and Kallen groaned before speaking.

"Roger, you should try to never say something like that again."

"You bloody pointy-eared-"

Roger saw one of the Scorpions approaching and cut his anger off.

"Yes?"

"Serjeant, you are needed by your commander in the Wave Serpent."

"Really? I have another day or so before I need to send a report."

"He said it was urgent."

"Very well. I'll leave you three to plan and prepare."

?br

"Speaking of hearing," D'Uxford paused, possibly to pick up a paper he had been given to read off.

"You are getting a new human member for your little band."

Roger sat there in silence for a moment before he realized what D'Uxford had said.

"Pardon? M-my lord."

"Serjeant, this Vox communication between us is remarkably inefficient. I have decided to appoint myself an official Vox specialist to free up time that could be spent assisting the campaign. Additionally, with the change of use for your unit, having someone specialized for Vox operation would be extremely beneficial."

"Am I not interesting enough to talk to every couple of days?"

"Not so Roger. You have been an essential part of my apparatus, and I more than appreciate your work, as does Edmund. But I have more pressing matters to deal with, and having a report given to me daily is better than me getting it every couple of days and having to schedule for it."

Lazy bastard, Roger thought.

"So what is the good news, I forgot to ask?"

"So when do they get here?"

"We've already given them over to the Eldar. They are being transported at this moment to your location by one of their craft."

"Oh," Roger said, surprised at the speed this was all happening at.

"Yes. Edmund had his hand in it. Fellow is a Cadian, punched an officer and was sent to be executed, but His Highness intervened at seeing a good soldier get thrown away. Sound familiar?"

"Too much."

"Yes. Well, they will be there soon."

"Do you know anything about them, other than they're Cadian?"

There was a long silence.

"Edmund… didn't really give me many details. Just said he needed a Cadian to disappear, and seeing how I was already wanting to hand off Vox duties to someone else, I thought they would be a good candidate for you."

"So you and the Prince are dumping someone on me with no information whatsoever?"

Another silence.

"Can you tell Ed planned this?"

"A bit," Roger sighed, rubbing his temples. "My lord."

"Well, I will expect them to be beneficial to you. I wouldn't drop a worthless person on you, I actually try to be helpful. Use them however you see fit serjeant, they are under your command and will live by your grace."

"Very well. Anything else my lord?"

"Negative. Carry on with raids. Keep us updated on how they turn out. No more observing. Take the fight to them and hit hard. Lion's Den out."

"Copy Lion's den, Leopard One out."

The click and silence of Vox cut-off filled Rogers ear. Another human in the Leopards? Would it work? And a Cadian at that. God-Emperor knows how they would handle it. And the fact he had no idea of the arrival and their personality or tolerance of Xenos could lead to a serious issue.

"Thanks your Highness," Roger muttered as he left the Wave Serpent, looking to realize that there were only two, meaning that D'Uxford wasn't joking. The pilot of the Wave Serpent he exited, Palon, or something like that, approached him.

"Wynoc moved out to receive a package or something of that nature."

"I've been informed. Did he head out recently?"

"Earlier in the day. He should be arriving back soon."

"Thank you, I'll have to inform the group of our new member."

"Reinforcements?"

"Not the kind you would want," Roger said as he jogged off to gather the Leopards to greet their new comrade.

XXXXXX

The Wave Serpent slowed to a near stop only a vehicle's length away from Rogers feet, with the sand barely moving or following the craft. It then proceeded to make a complete turn, the rear door now facing him, Kallen, Moire and Cruniach, all standing together as the warriors of the Leopards formed a semi circle around them, watching the arrival. The Serpent made a whispering noise, lowering to the ground and going silent, the mysterious power source that it carried turning off. The cockpit nose popped up, Wynoc thrusting himself out of the craft and walking towards the four, taking off his helmet to reveal a face wracked with frustration and annoyance.

"Did you know?" he asked Roger.

"Only an hour ago."

"Farseer Alwyn called me to our camp, and I got the thankless duty of transporting one of you miserable Mon-Keigh-" he paused as he looked at Roger, who waved off the insult.

"So you have them?"

"Yes. Woke up about halfway getting back here. Has been a noisy and insufferable pain, at least your people chained and blindfolded them before I came here."

"Right. No time like the present. Bring 'em out."

Wynoc nodded and opened the rear hatch before climbing in.

"Here!" he cried before throwing a human in green and khaki uniform out into the sand.

"Take her! And next time I bring one of your kind, tell your Prince to gag them."

"Her?" Kallen and Roger said together, looking at the Cadian.

Sure enough, sitting on her knees upright, Roger got a look at his new comrade. Blonde hair in a pixie cut, no scars or mechanical limbs, rather fit, but with attributes that made even a uniform and flak jacket look easy on the eye. Her mouth, on the other hand, would need work.

"You fuckers! I will tear your Emperor-damned throats out! Think you can just kidnap me and take me wherever you want! I'm a mother-fucking Cadian! I chew Las-Packs and piss Napalm! I am a genuine Kasr-born ass kicker! You better not be heretics, 'cause the Emperor himself is gonna be the only thing between me and beating the ever-loving shit out of you!"

She paused, seemingly out of breath, with Roger noticing Wynoc taking a deep breath and quietly saying something in his tongue, most likely some form of "Thank God" as he closed the door.

"Kallen."

"Roger."

"Take her blindfold off."

"Absolutely not. You heard what she would do to me."

The two grinned at each other.

"Want me to deal with her?"

"She said the Emperor would protect you."

"Fair."

Roger moved behind her quickly as she seemed to get some breath and was ready to begin another verbal assault. Taking her blind fold off, she blinked as the late day sun got in her eyes. Moving back to Kallens side, Roger waited for her to gain her bearings. As she did so, Roger watched her eyes grow larger, her mouth dropping in shock. She turned her head slightly to look at the four in charge. Kallen raised a hand and smiled.

"Greetings, human," he said politely.

She immediately shrieked in pure terror, startling damn near every Leopard, Wynoc leaning out of the cockpit he returned to, trying to figure out what was going on. Out of breath again, she panted and started squirming, trying to move away, babbling in pure terror. Kallen turned to Roger, seeming to not notice the ridiculous spectacle in front of him.

"At least Noura was quiet."