The Awakening

I felt as if I were floating. On a sea of air.

Disjointed imagery. A girl with red hair, braided on the sides, violet eyes. No, girl isn’t quite right; I try to focus, but the image fades away.

Images of when I lost my virginity. I wonder if I’ll remember his name, then realize… I don’t care.

A firefight, lasguns and stubs going off around me; I remember wondering if I’ll live through it.

An image of another girl, much younger. A mirror of myself.

Chaos of a riot. Darkness falls. Unnatural darkness of the warp. A friend grabs me, trying to pull me to safety. Only it’s not a friend, it’s a fiend. I feel an evil on a palpable level.

A sudden feeling that I’ve lost my best friend… and I’ll never know why?

There’s that girl again. Angry and sad at the same time.

A sensation of falling, falling… and suddenly… I’m awake!

It’s dark, but there are some lights on in the barracks. That’s what the place reminds me of, but I have no clue where I am. There are some people around, but I feel too weak to speak. I become aware of a cord, with a button attached to it, in my bed, and in my reach… I press it. A 1st year Medicae comes over.
“Oh good, you’re awake, let me go get the Chirgeon” he says. “Now you just stay right where you’re at” he tells me as he leaves.
I’m thinking ‘I feel like a day old saber-cat; how in the name of the Emperor does he expects I could move?’, but he’s back before too much time has gone by, and has a greybeard with him.
The old man checks me out… poking and prodding me. Then he asks me “How do you feel, Aurora?”
That doesn’t ‘feel’ right, like I’ve gone by another name for years, but I respond with a feeble croak “Ok” I lie to him. I feel like I’ve been hit by a herd of stampeding grox (Do grox really stampede? If so, why?).
He has that knowing look on his face, and smiles as he tells me “It’s alright if you feel really weak and sore right now, after all you been through, I’m not surprised”. To my puzzled look he continues “It’s seems to be quite normal with illness you’re recovering from” he tells me. He lowers his voice and continues speaking “You’ve been unconscious for weeks, my dear. On the plus side, for those that wake up from it, they all have seemed to be able to resume a normal life, albeit with only a small to moderate memory loss. You should be up and around in two or three weeks, and ready for boot camp in no time” he tells me, as he’s sticking a needle in my arm, apparently a sedative, as my eyes grow heavy, and I feel sleep coming on again.

He walked away, and I sat bolt upright, shaking for several moments. ‘Boot camp?’ I thought, as I trembled ‘Great Emperor, I’ve been drafted!’.

Boot Camp

Ok, so I wasn’t drafted. Apparently, after having served as perhaps the youngest Imperial Psyker in a century or two, my Inquisitor thought it prudent that I went through some ‘seasoning’. Some salt or pepper, then a roasting over a slow fire… that’s what I always imagine when I hear that line.
Somehow, I just couldn’t imagine that I had done this willingly. The illness was a result of some Adeptus somewhere who mislabeled my records… my paperwork said I had the right inoculations, when I hadn’t. I’d almost suspect a plot, except that some 30 others came down with the thing the moment we hit dirtside. Out of that 30, or perhaps more, apparently only 4 of us survived, and I was the last one to come out of the coma. **** all bureaucrats to the warp!
The rest of my hospital time passed quickly. I remember that the young Medicae had eyed my form, sometimes my naked form approvingly on more than one occasion. Several times I would ‘suddenly’ notice him noticing, and he had the good graces to look away, somewhat embarrassed. If I had more energy at the time, I might have let him do something about it. But I told myself that getting caught here might cause issues with the Brontians, so I decided to not take any chances. I would regret that for a long time, as I would not get a better chance for almost a year.

I am not going to try to tell you all the stories you might have heard about military service. Suffice to say, I will simply tell you of the differences from other services that I had heard or knew of. As far as what we did, well, you either know from personal experience, or you don’t. If you don’t know, you probably don’t care.
Anyway, Boot Camp was done at this dirt spot, in a middle of nowhere, halfway to hell. I think someone said we were only two weeks out in the bush. That was, apparently, for those who might desert, so that they would have no where to go. It was called Titvs Gregorvs.
I had no idea who this person could have been, but after 2 days, I was convinced he was a marathon runner. We ran everywhere. We ran to the exercise range in the morning. We ran to chow after that. We ran to drill fields. We ran at drill fields. We ran to the firing range. We ran out on maneuvers, and ran back again.
I might not have made it. But I kept remembering running… with someone, in the mornings, and the evenings. It was someone I didn’t want to disappoint again, but I could never remember who.
I found out a little something about Brontian service during the 8th week of training. Apparently, the Brontian guardsmen have a number of LLs in service; that’s short for what they called ‘Living Legends’. These superior specimens of soldiers had been awarded Brontian’s highest award, the Cross of Valour. A handful of these men (or women in some rare cases) still served. In all cases they received a singular honour, by having a location named for them in the Brontian service. During the 8th week of training, the unit was inspected by the Regimental Commander, Colonel Titvs Gregorvs.
Scuttlebutt said that he had done a number of spectacular actions during the course of his career. On at least three occasions, he had performed actions that could have won him the award. Sadly, once the Cross is awarded, no other medal is ever given to a Brontian Guardsman. I didn’t understand this at first, but I did have it explained to me at some point. “After getting awarded the best you can get, what else is there to get” a top sergeant told me. I had to say, it made an elegant sort of sense.
I am ashamed to admit I don’t remember much from that week, other than the ever present fear, of being found to be wanting, in the sight of a man who could make or break my career as a Brontian Guardsman. And while his inspection only was over a period of two days, I would wake up months later in the middle of the night, in a cold sweat, thinking I had just done something to make the unit fail our inspection.
It was a grueling 4 months of physical torture. The mental nature of it was never an issue. I had survived the worse the warp could throw at me. There was little mentally that they could scare me with. I made it through and graduated with my unit. Colours were struck and the unit disbanded, until the next group of unwashed, slovenly individuals came through, in need of being turned into Guardsmen. Of the 218 individuals that started, a raggedy company, we had trimmed down to a svelte 42 soldiers. Barely platoon size, but a tough group ready to fight.
I was the only Psyker training in the unit, and I never used my abilities while in training. I felt that if I had, it would have been cheating somehow. I felt I received no less punishment or reward for my actions or inactions during my training. A testament to the professionalism of my Drills, or so I thought. I didn’t find out the truth for several months.

An Act of Responsibility

An odd occurrence happened to me at the end of my training, at the ceremony they held to mark the ends of such things. A stately older man, quite large, probably a feral worlder, with no hair that I could see on him anywhere, approached me.
“A word with you Guardsman Rexvs, if I may?”.
To say the least I was intrigued. He seemed oddly familiar, yet I couldn’t remember having ever met him before in my life.
He answered my unspoken question almost immediately by saying “I am quite happy to finally meet you, daughter of my brother. I am Mardencvs Aneas Rexvs”.
I was thunderstruck. I had believed that I had no living relatives.
He continued “I had contacted Inquisitor Skane as to when would be an appropriate time, to make myself known to you. She had indicated that after your last mission, you would need a little time, but upon your graduation, we would be allowed to finally meet”.
I was still speechless. It was good that he continued to answer my questions, almost as soon as I thought of them. As long as he did so, I might not have to say anything. That was good as I was afraid my voice would crack if I tried to say anything. I suppose I was quite a sight, with my mouth hung open like that.
His face took on a slightly bemused expression. Perhaps he was laughing at my gaping mouth. I closed it immediately.
Seriously now, he continued “Kneel please”.
He waited until I got on my knees. I wasn’t sure what he was about to. He placed his hands, crossed over my head, and began a prayer.
“Aurora, you will have a tough road ahead of you. Emperor bless and keep you over the next several years. There are those out there that fear the witch, and with good reason in many cases. You may go through things you may feel you are not ready for. You may feel persecuted. But it is the responsibility of the chosen, to do the things they feel they cannot. And also, to do the things that others cannot. Many are called, but few are chosen. May the Emperor guide and keep you always. Rise”.
It was then I noticed he was wearing an icon made of silver, the sign of the chalice. Like myself, he was in service to an Inquisitor, as a Legate. I must have been startled by seeing that, as he had apparently signaled to an aide, who walked up with a striking black case. He handed the case to my uncle (I have an UNCLE!, I wanted to scream out, but somehow restrained myself), who opened it, and then handed to me a pair of gleaming gladii. They were easily the best quality blades I had ever laid eyes on, and well balanced to boot. My eyes started to water, as I considered his precious gift.
“As I will not often be there to guide you, and have not been able to in the past, I hope that these two old friends of mine can protect you, when you need it” he stated simply.
For a moment, I looked past him, and saw the lone assistant he had with him and was confused. Then I realized he meant the swords. If they were his, then they were much older than they looked, as they looked newly-forged.
“May you always live responsibly, and Emperor guide you through the tough times ahead” he said right before he took his leave of me.

As he left with his aide, I wondered what he knew and if he had the sight. Then I thought, of course he did. And I trembled with the thought of what was to come.

Repple Depot

I got off the transport, and made my way with several of the others to our ‘temporary’ home, the replacement depot. I have heard that unless you were a special case, you might wait 2 or 3 weeks or perhaps longer for an assignment.
A Lieutenant was there, with a Corporal. The Corporal was checking off names on a data-slate, as we came in. “Not just yet, Rexvs, you’re going out on the Blazer”. The Blazer turned out to be a light, fast transport vessel, that was taking me and 13 others out to our assignment, the 18th Brontian Light Lancers, a unit in the 101st Brontian Lancer Regiment. I thought ‘That was fast’, and wondered if, for the first time, ‘Was I getting special treatment?‘ It turned out that I was, but not for the reason that I thought. The Brontians had just invested 4 months of training in me. They wanted me assigned quickly, so that in case Skane got a wild hair and wanted to pull me off the assignment, she could easily grab me fast in the Depot. If I was deployed, they could claim problems with bringing the ship out of warp, or that they do not want to turn the **** thing around for one soldier. Turns out they were right. Skane had wanted to pull me back right after training. The Brontian’s planning made sure I got deployed for at least a full year before I got back.
Skane did send a communiqué asking me if I wanted to be deployed. She made it seem to me that if I wanted to be pulled off the assignment, that she would move heaven and hell to get me home. My reply was pretty simple. I was a trained Guardsman. The Brontian’s deserved something for their efforts. Members of the team were still otherwise engaged in their own pursuits. Besides I told her in the return message, “You did want me seasoned”… I pictured a barbeque spit turning in my mind, when I sent it.
After finding out what we were going to be fighting, I wondered if I really would be on that spit before long.

Orks

We had some 23 weeks in warp to train prior to our landing on whatever planet we were going to be attacking or defending. I asked where, but didn’t have enough clearance or need to know.
The first day of training for it was different than anything I had dealt with up to that point with the Brontians… we went to a classroom, with chairs and tables. After 4 months in the bush, I felt like I was in luxury.
I sat up front. Not so much because I wanted to hear the lecture, but I thought the Sergeant giving it was kind of cute. I wasn’t trying to brownnose (a term I didn’t understand at the time, but learned later). Hmmm maybe I was. After all, 4 months of enforced celibacy, plus my time in the hospital, and I was starting to feel a bit neglected.
The Sergeant introduced himself “Good morning, I’m Sergeant Eli Alexander Frak. For the next week you’ll be getting intense instruction on how to combat Orks“. The Sergeant suddenly killed the lights, and seemed to melt away, which I didn’t realize at the time was some sort of holo at the front of the class. It was an Ork. It was very realistic, and had several of the others backing up… quickly and falling out of their chairs in some cases. Me, I got out of my chair, then picked up the chair, and started forward. Then I stopped, and started laughing.
The Sergeant, who then stepped back into the front of the class from the shadows he had stepped to, was taken aback with my reaction, so different than most of the troops there “What is it Rexvs… what’s so damned funny?”.
“I’m sorry” I sputtered, “But it threw me for a moment, and then I realized it was a fake”.
He looked at me crossly, then, hands on his hips, he demanded “Ok Rexvs, tell us from your wide range of Ork knowledge, how you knew this was a fake?”
I stood there perplexed for a moment, and then rose to the challenge “Orks. About 2.5 to 3 meters tall, weighing in around 190 to 275 kilos. They’d probably be taller if they didn’t slouch so much. Green skin. Their favorite melee weapon, is a choppa, a large axe, and heretical to boot, that many of them can wield one handed easily, but for us takes two. Did you really want a detailed description of them, or were you just being facetious?” I asked him.
He looked at me, as if seeing me for the first time.
Still a bit hot under the collar, I continued “Your holo was off a bit in size… maybe that’s because it just couldn’t generate the true size of an Ork. It also seemed to be the wrong color… almost grayish” I was slower in delivering those last lines. I wasn’t sure if he was gonna explode, or just shoot me. I waited for it, wishing I were still 14 and a much smaller target.
He surprised me, by stepping up and asking very quietly “Where did you run into Orks?”.
Just as quietly I responded “My last assignment. I don’t know the name of the world we were on. But we were thrust into an arena, me and my friends, and had to face 5 of them. After we beat them I got to carry a big choppa around for a while”.
His face looked like he had a million questions. Instead he just said, addressing the class “Rexvs is quite correct. And over the next week, you’re all going to get a full briefing on Orks”.
Me, I was still getting over the shock that he knew my name. Maybe there was a chance there after all.

I am not going to give all the information he taught us. I’m not sure I could remember it all. He said all the information he gave is in the scholastic library, so you’re free to look there if you need a refresher (actually, that’s not quite true, but never mind… he made sure we knew what we needed to). My only consternation was he continually used me as an A.I., due to my ‘extensive first hand’ knowledge. Lucky me.

After the first week, we had 6 weeks of advanced hand-to-hand combat, followed by a repeat of the first 7... and after that another repeat of that. By then I felt I could take on an Ork if I had to. But I knew I would still felt safer if my buds were around me.

The only other thing to mention was the training accident. About 10 weeks in, one of our Corporals slipped going through a doorway, he had probably gone through hundreds of times before. It was part of the run we had set up in the ship. While a small ship, it was large enough we could set up a quarter kilometer run, although only a few people could run it at a time. Hmmm maybe not such a small ship after all, but only seemed that way because there were so many of us on board? In any event, as the Corporal tried to come through, he accidentally triggered the door closing somehow. He didn’t feel a thing and was decapitated immediately.

Apparently I had made an impression on someone. The next day they transferred a Corporal from our section over to that one. Then they promoted me. I kept thinking two things ‘How in the name of the Empire did I end up here?’ and ‘Skane is gonna kill me’.

A Day to Remember

I had made 7 drops in training, all in tightly controlled situations. This would be my first drop as a non-com, and my first combat drop.
“Ami, this is your first drop as a non-com” the top sergeant told me.
I thought ‘Get outta my head’, and then I was wondering if he had the sight, or simply knew how troops would react from years of experience. Eventually I decided on the latter. But it was a near thing.
“As you know, we’ll be hitting target X hard as we drop… so don’t be afraid to use up your ammo… we’ll have boats coming down to re-supply. And remember, you’ve got stimm packs for you and your men. Don’t be afraid to use them”.

I’m not sure when it happened, but at some point I started going by my middle name… the shortened form anyway. It ‘felt’ right, and I figured it was somehow part of the memory loss.

I remember thinking during planetfall, that it was still my first combat drop, and from everything I had ever heard you never promote anyone from the drop room…always promote after seeing them in action. I wondered about it for a long time, finally asking the Sergeant Frak, figuring he would know why? He did… they promoted me, based on his recommendation. Perplexed, I asked him how he could do that, seeing as they hadn’t seen me in action. He said there were two reasons… and he really only needed one, but he had two.
“First off, during my little demo with the Ork holo, you were the only recruit who got up, grabbed a weapon, even if improvised, and moved into attack position, when the others tried to get away. Even the seasoned men looked like they were ready to run. You didn‘t.” he told me.
I shrugged and said “Ok, that’s one… but I really would like to know your other reason?”.
He smiled, a kind of predatory smile “You came well recommended by Skane. Even if you don’t remember it because of your illness, you’ve seen the battlefield before”.

Even so, to my memory, this was my first combat action, other than the Orks in the pit. The Sergeant said, apparently, I had been in action several times, and had accounted for myself well on the battlefield. So they knew I’d do Ok. I wish someone had told me; I was a nervous wreck!
I’d like to be able to give a detailed account over the next 6 days on the action. I really only remember one thing clearly. It was when Staff Sergeant Clevis & Sergeant Roth went down from an Ork rocket … or was it a grenade? That part I don’t remember. It was the unreasoning fear, when I was handed a platoon and Sergeant stripes!

The Big Dance

We had been out on the rim, now several months. We had seen several pitched battles, but our unit had mostly been held in reserve, so other than that first week, we hadn’t seen a lot of action. That first week, short in calendar days, but seemed like forever at the time, left me running a platoon, and had me scratching my head at the cosmic joke played on me.
Then we had, apparently, done enough to eradicate the Orks there, and packed up and moved to another planet in the sector. We had been at that last one almost a month. So on to planet 4...or was it the 5th world we had gone to? In some cases I thought we were going back and forth between the same worlds, but again ‘need to know’ left me in the dark as to exactly where we were.
Another briefing, and another 8 or 9 weeks on the same style small transport corvette.
Then my life got turned upside down… again.
They moved Commanders around in several of the Companies. ‘In an effort to keep things fresh, and alleviate boredom, which might lead to combat fatigue’, or so went the official report. I didn’t think much of it, until the day after the new CO came in.
The top sergeant came in the next morning, calling a meeting, and several non-coms found themselves out of a job, including me. Granted we had several new sergeants assigned to the platoon, so I figured some kind of shake up was going to be in the works. I also knew as a Psyker I shouldn’t be in a line duty position, but figured that lack of qualified and experienced personnel left them with no choice. Still the sudden change with no warning left me a little messed up at the time, so I missed the assignments for duty rosters for the next several days.
I asked Top what was going on afterwards, and he just proceeded to tear me a new one. I was like “Whoa, whoa Top, I was just asking. I thought I deserved that much since I’d been doing this for you, the last several months”.
He softened only slightly, and then told me “Look, you better get with your new Platoon Sergeant, and check on your extra duty, before you get into anymore trouble”.
I was more than a little perplexed, as I went to see the guy, a Staff Sergeant Attila. He just looked at me crossly, and told me to report to KP.
I was like, you gotta be kidding me, they put an NCO on KP? But the list he had showed, yeah I was on it. I was not in a good mood, the rest of the day. It got worse by that night, as I found I had also been put on CQ that evening. And I still had to pull a regular duty day the next day.
All technically within the regs. But I knew I had to have pissed off someone.

I was not a very happy camper as I got done the next days training. By regs, if they gave me anything else to do at that point, it had better come with charges… and a couple of burly Mps, because I wasn’t in the mood to put up with any more groxkist. I went to see the only friend that I thought I could count on, that was still on the boat, my old training Sergeant, Sergeant Frak. He hadn’t given that day’s training. That day it was a lot of hand-to-hand. I came away with more bruises than normal, because my reactions were a bit slower. I didn’t want to risk trying anything psychically because I was so damned tired, I was afraid I’d lose control of it.

I found him, just outside officer country, which seemed strange, but it turned out he had already heard what happened, and was already looking into things for me. He caught me, him coming out from north 30 (anything the other side of north 30 being forward mess, or the officer‘s mess, and officer‘s quarters). He looked at me and said only “Not here”. We went on what almost seemed a tour of the ship. He stopped long enough to grab a backpack from his quarters. I started to say something, he just said “Not yet”. So after grabbing that, we went back out, through some strange parts of the ship I hadn’t had reason to go to yet. Turns out he was trying to be seen by the fewest people as possible. He also wanted to talk where we’d be undisturbed. We ended up, on the baffle plate, just over the main reactor.

Upon my astonished and confused looks he said “Contrary to what people think, being this close to it won’t stop you from having children. But also contrary to what people think, if the baffle goes, there isn’t a safe place to be on the ship”, he said with a strange kind of half smile.

Without trying to take a lot of time in this narration, the short story was that high command knew I was a Psyker. Middle command had no clue. This had inadvertently caused issues with lower echelons. While the command staff at HQ knew I was a Psyker, Repple Depot hadn’t. So here I had been in assignment for six months with the 18th, and they’re just NOW realizing they have a witch amongst them. A spy all this time for the Inquisition. A true SNAFU.

I started to tremble. I realized how bad this could go. So did Eli. He had thought ahead and packed a few books on ‘Military Law’, and thought even if I was tired; would I want to start learning a little extra about it on the side? If it ever came to a General Court, I would have a few things on my side to present, and it would be better if I was prepared. At that point I just continued to tremble, and with all the exhaustion of the last two days, I swooned for a moment. He just grabbed me and held me close. I was no longer a Sergeant who held my own for 6 months running a Platoon. I was a scared 18-year old girl. I looked up into his eyes… he suddenly seemed to realize we were very close. I thought ‘If I play my cards right… hell and damnation, I just don’t care’ so I kissed him. He looked at me and said “Are you sure about this Ami?”
I told him, “I don’t know, but we could be dead in 6 days or 6 weeks”.
So we did it right there on the floor. I had no energy to do it standing, he just pulled my pants down to my knees… and did the same with his, explaining that taking everything off, and then getting caught would get us BCDed, if not spaced. I was like whatever, but then he pushed my knees to my chest, and let me have it. It didn’t last long, but was very intense. He may not have been the largest I had ever had, but I certainly thought so at the time. It was a combination of decent size, and a lack of activity on my part for at least a year…or more maybe. I couldn’t honestly remember the last time I let a guy have his way with me. Strangely, afterward I felt more energized than I had in a while, but I knew that euphoria wouldn’t last, so I risked dulling the pain on me, then on him. On him may have been a mistake, as he went at me for the next 4 hours. We’d have probably kept going, but the cleaning servitors came around, and it was get out or get caught.

Ok, I am going to say this once. I am not Drusus. I am a young woman, caught up in circumstances not entirely of my control. I may have chosen to enlist in the Guards, but I didn’t ask to lose my memory. Nor did I ask the Guards to treat me like groxkist for no other reason than I was a ‘witch’. A legally sanctioned one, but they continually overlooked that fact, over the next several weeks. So if I went and had a little more ‘RnR’ over the next few weeks than I should have, well, I really felt that I was going to be spaced at any moment, or be a victim of ’friendly fire’ soon after hitting dirtside. So I had gotten past caring anymore. I finally figured out that Skane had known all along what could happen, but couldn’t tell me when she had sent me that communiqué, because the channel wasn’t a secure one.

For the next several days, which turned into weeks, it was more of the same. Extra duty for no apparent reason, whenever they could legally arrange it by regs, and me secretly meeting Eli for evening training sessions, that were about 20 minutes actual instruction, and about 4 to 6 hours of hard sex, and me occasionally using my abilities to keep it going longer. He was always looking at me, down there, like he had never seen it before. Turns out he hadn’t, not clearly. Apparently every other woman he had been with didn’t shave. He got the courage to finally go down on me one night. He said he had run out of ‘gloves’, but he still wanted to get me off. I hadn’t realized why until he had started. By then I didn’t care anymore. He hadn’t realized that I almost never come that way. He got tired of being on his knees, so I straddled him, and went at him for a few hours for a change. He was worried about what might happen, but like we had been saying, we might be dead in a few days or a few weeks, so I reminded him. He told me 3 days. We were due Planetfall by then. He also told me that he knew someone in Command had plans for me, either on the drop, the battle or afterwards. One way or the other, I wasn’t going to survive. The poor dear was crying. He kept saying over and over again in 3 days one of us was going to be dead. Unfortunately he was right.

The Battle

The drop went much the same as before, on prior drops. I still had my rank, as I had done nothing to allow them to legally take it. I dropped as an assistant section chief, a job for a Lance, and two grades below my chevrons, but I did my work cheerfully. Getting packed regularly will do that for a girl.

I don’t remember a lot of the details. I was just trying to keep alive. Two hours into the mission, I had the bad news, Eli covering a pick-up on one of his men that had been wounded, was killed in action, his head apparently ‘burst like an overripe fruit’ according to one of the men in my team, who was laughing about it. I wanted to get sick, but forced it down. “That man, was a Staff Sergeant, and many of you can thank the Emperor, that he was there to train you how to fight these bastards these many months”. I don’t remember what else I said, but I was livid as I tore into them. They had apparently transmitted that chatter over the standard link, and I replied in the same. Someone was listening at the time.

Later, I was thinking, ‘If the wrong person heard me say that, it would be one more nail in my coffin’, but apparently, as things turned out it was the right one who was listening.

The Orks had gotten craftier on this planet. They had managed to find an old ruins of an ancient outpost, whose I never did find out. We kept attacking, but it was much like an onion. Keep peeling away at it, and you may get somewhere, but you’re going to get a lot of tears along the way.

The 4th day we had managed to push them back to where they couldn’t retreat much more. Then we got word, that several Ork transports got through the blockade, and they were getting reinforced.

After 2 more weeks of fierce fighting, the CO and the platoon sergeant both went down. Unfortunately the Commander didn’t die, and to make matters worse, I had been the one forced to make pick-up on him, so I used my abilities to heal him so he could get up and moving again. He must have hated my guts; his reaction to me standing over him when he came to… the next thing I found myself almost clapped in irons, which lasted exactly 2 minutes, and the Commissar overruled him, saying he would relieve the CO, if he tried. I wasn’t sure if this was since he had witnessed my healing, or for the simple reason most Commisars are the ones who should be doing handing out any punitive punishments. A short reprieve to be sure.

I found myself being ordered to take charge of second platoon, by the Commissar. I was startled, but responded with a ‘Yes sir’ so fast, it seemed like one word coming out of my mouth.

My happy feeling lasted until I got back to the platoon, and I thought of Eli briefly, whom would never know how much I had come to care for him in so short a time.

The next thing I knew, there was a lull in the battlefield. A short reprieve, which both sides seemed to want to take advantage of. The next thing I saw was likely the largest, ugliest Ork, I had ever had the displeasure to see. Easily 4 meters tall, and probably 4 or 5 hundred kilos. This guy looked like he was leading the Orks, and had gotten his position by taking on all of the other Orks at one time… and winning! In addition to his massive frame, he didn’t feel right. I tried ‘reaching out’ and I felt a most palpable evil, one that I had felt only once before, but then I just couldn’t remember where.

I had a disjointed image of a dagger for some odd reason.

In any event, this Ork placed himself in the middle of the field. Their champion I thought, waiting to see if there might be any takers.

Without looking I could tell that many of my Brontian Guardsmen comrades were on the verge of panic. Their fear of him bordered on the unnatural, but I somehow forced it down. It came to me in a flash, something my uncle had said several months before “to do things others cannot”. Before I could think twice about it, I tore out of my position, willing myself past the fear, and into action, drawing my swords as I went.

I went out at a dead run. He was only about 100 meters away at first. He made no move to get off the field, and seemed somehow joyous that someone was either brave enough…. Or foolhardy enough, to take him on.

I got to about 10 meters and let loose a bolt of lightning. One was all I let go, on purpose, to let him think my magic was poor in relation to his. I have no idea why I thought I needed to get closer to him to fight him, but that was my thinking, however irrational it seems now. He shrugged it off easily, then charged. We came at each other, swords going at each other as we passed one another. He got in what I first thought was a glancing blow. One of my swords shattered into him, Great Emperor, but he was tough, it felt like hitting a wall! My sides started to burn, as I then realized he had gotten me much worse than I realized, and I was barely keeping my insides from falling out. I had to risk taking the time to heal myself; it was a bit of alright, as he did something on the spot, similar to what I did. I must have hit him harder than I thought. We went at each other again, I was lucky to get in close and get the first shot which was more of a feint, while simultaneously hitting him with everything I could from my lightning. I think I counted 5 bolts hitting him. From a distance though, it might have looked like I got him with a power sword, which was the effect I was trying for. He was done, and I cut his head off. Raising it, and my sword high in the air, I tried to look ‘inspirational‘. That was enough. The rout was on.

The Party

The rest of the campaign was mop-up. I don’t really remember much what happened afterwards. Other than a big blow out party and several weeks RnR on a pleasure world somewhere.

Semper Fi !

Aurora Amaryllis Rexvs
Platoon Sergeant, 2nd Platoon
18th Brontian Light Lancers, 101st Brontian Lancer Regiment

Addendum:

I returned to service for Skane shortly thereafter. I found myself with child, after a few months. Every man I saw after that seemed almost like a dead thing, unlike my Eli. So I did the responsible things necessary, to place the child in appropriate foster care. I put some money aside for allotments, first for Alexander Brontian Rexvs, and then for a few appropriate parties. People that I could help with money, rather than spreading my services too thin. That seemed more responsible somehow.