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Thanks for your interest! I'll certainly keep this up.

If you don't mind me asking, did you find the reaction to the deaths of those troopers by the rest of the team to be believable and sympathetic?

Sorry for the delay in reading and commenting the story, I liked it and the feeling of despair where rather fine.

On the team question I think it was somewhat similar to what normal men do when comrades die.

^Agreed.

Thanks guys!

The pleasure is all mine

It's never a chore reading this thread so don't mention it.

10

“You son of a bitch what kept you?” Kaleb replied with the first hint of a smile I’d seen in a long time.

“Well so much for protocol then... its good to hear you’re alive Lieutenant. How many of your troopers made it out with you?” Captain Jarritch’s voice was a welcome sound to hear and the first buds of hope began to twitch in my gut. We kept silent whilst the officers spoke but couldn’t help giving each other wide eyed looks of anticipation.

“I’ve lost too many soldiers today... I can’t say more on the vox. But I do need to know what the fug happened up there and what we’re looking at down here. We’ve been running blind just trying to stay alive but I need intel to patch this gak up.” Said Kaleb.

“Its no easy fix, son...” The sombre tone of Jarritch’s voice sent shivers down my spine. “This trap goes all the way back to your first mission on Narbo. The prisoners you kidnapped gave us the intel for the assassination black op you just completed and those cell leaders were interrogated by sanctioned psykers as well as the usual knife-men. The intel on the traitors was cleared as sound. There’s no lying to a telepath...”

“Like fug was it sound! Have you been asleep for the last few hours?” Kaleb spat.

“Pay attention Lieutenant” Jarritch warned. “You might be in a tight spot but now is not the time for whining at your CO like a gak stained boot. The intel was sound because, as far as the prisoners knew, your targets really were traitors. They didn’t lie to us, somebody lied to them and I’ll stake my commission it was one of those Alpha Legion dogs.”

“The cell leaders were supposed to get captured...” I said aloud without realising it. Kaleb glared at me to keep silent and I chided myself for adding another voice to the vox transmission log. You never know who’s listening.

“We have a winner” Jarritch grimly jested. “The legion bastard running the enemy outfit knew we would jump at the chance to get inside their intelligence network so he offered up a platter of poisoned treats that was too good to refuse. The Alpha Legion painted targets on loyal Imperials by handing us prepared prisoners and then they surveilled our inevitable retribution so they could turn more of the populace against us.” Jarritch finished his explanation with a snort of derision and defeat.

“So Mr Black fugs up and then he orders a kill or capture on my team to try and minimise the damage...” Kaleb was beginning to seethe with anger again.

“That’s the long and the short of it my friend” Jarritch answered after a pause. “I tried to stop him but I don’t have any operational jurisdiction on this one. General Ortum’s backing Naval Intelligence’s damage control...”

“And you can’t very well go and knock him off...” finished Kaleb.

“I’m not saying I can’t... but I won’t” Jarritch returned. “Listen, there’s still a way out of this but its a real longshot.”

“Its either your longshot or a stowaway trip off world and into the life of a mercenary so I’m all ears, sir.” Kaleb said, revealing the extent of our predicament had Jarritch not got in contact.

“You need leverage. You need something that Mr Black and General Ortum want more than your deaths on a pict screen. Lucky for you I’ve been paying attention to this gakstorm so I’ve got just the ticket. The enemy plan all comes back to the first operation where we kidnapped the marks. So the informant who gave us the intel on the cell leaders has to be a traitor. You find him you might actually have someone who really does know a thing or two about the enemy intelligence network. You take him alive and you just might get General Ortum’s attention. Now I know Mr Black and he’ll offer you a pardon then shoot you in the back after he’s got his prize. Oh he’ll tell you he’s sorry about it and he might even mean it but he’ll kill you just the same. You need the General to call off Naval Intelligence and with the right cards you can make it happen.”

“Sounds simple enough” Kaleb grunted. “Who’s the traitor then?”

“Genor Dacker was a low level Naval Intelligence operative under Mr Black’s command; or so we thought. It seems Dacker was a legion plant all along; according to his field reports the intel he gave us was firsthand and precise. You might call that too good to be true but it seems NI had their noses out in the cold for too long. They jumped at it and you’re paying the price.” Said Jarritch

“That’s not an entirely new experience, sir.” Said Kaleb.

“Indeed,” Jarritch snorted. “But finding Dacker will be. His last transmission came from Narbo Primus but he’s no doubt made his way North by now to shelter with the enemy. He might just have been a field grunt but NI agents are slippery fugs and Dacker will have figured that his cover would get blown by this op.”

“You got anything else for us to go on, sir?” Asked Kaleb.

“I had to go through some very unsavoury channels to get you that much, son. You’ve got to get through the city and look for the easiest way to pass through our lines. Dacker’s got a head start on you but he’s no soldier; he’ll make for the safest road north and that means the thinnest Imperial stretch of defences north of the city. By my count that’s the Mordian regiment stretched to breaking point on the Jocasta ridge. The city’s had its hands full with insurgents and its only going to get worse now so you best take advantage of that fact and get your arses in gear.”

“Thank you, sir. We’ll get it done.” Kaleb said.

“When you’ve got the traitor, make contact. Until then you won’t hear from me... Fug, if anyone is listening to this you won’t hear from me anyway. You bring those troopers home, son... Over and out.” Jarritch clicked off and we stood in silence for a moment. I had somehow expected jarritch to find out we were in trouble, send a simple vox transmission to clear up the misunderstanding and bring us all home in a shuttle. It really does take a while to let the magnitude of hard-nosed Imperial retribution sink in.





“You heard him,” Kaleb started. “We’re heading through the city for the Jocasta ridge and every second we waste gives Dacker a chance to slip further into the enemy’s reach. Ditch your weapons, your gear, anything military. Broad daylight in a packed city is no place for the likes of us so we’re going to have to pass for civilians. When we hit the Mordian line we’ll procure on site as per Vermillion SOP. Any questions?”

“I’ve got one” ventured Sekunda. “Where are we going to get civvies?”

“There’s a farmhouse on the other side of these woods. We can take what we need from them and head into the city disguised as farmers selling our winter stockpile.” Kaleb replied.

“And what do we do if the farmer and his family are eating breakfast when we arrive?” I asked.

“We’ll figure something out, son.” Kaleb gave me a look of reassurance as he replied. “If we go murdering civilians just to cover our tracks we’ll end up deserving the bounty that’s on our heads... there’ll be plenty of killing when we reach the enemy lines. So let’s just keep it clean for now.”

That put my mind at ease some. We were still fugitives being hunted through a warzone but I didn’t want to have to add child murderer to my list of accomplishments. It occurred to me that Kaleb’s sudden bout of pacifism might have had something to do with the fact that now we could actually see a glimmer of light at the end of our tunnel. That was an undeniable relief but it brought up a few questions about what dark methods we would have ended up resorting to if we hadn’t been handed a lifeline by Captain Jarritch. We’re killers. I accept that. But I’m not a man that relishes answering the question of how far I’ll go to get the job done. Nor do I relish contemplating how far I’ve been...

Kaleb moved us out after we had buried the offending items of gear that marked us as soldiers. We kept our knives and fatigues but that was about it. I didn’t mind too much; as a storm trooper you’re taught not to get too attached to weapons. They don’t sit you down and tell you not to cozy up to your rifle and give it a name. The thing is that you never really spend too much time with any one tool to think of it as a possession in any kind of way. You head to the armoury before an exercise and you check out one of the lasguns, you check it back in after the exercise is over. You might even repeat the same fire drill tomorrow but you’ll check out a different rifle every time. The next day is pistol training, then its demolitions, then its driving courses or amphibious assault exercises. The way we train you never get to keep anything so you never worry about handing it back.

When you deploy its a little different. The Storm Trooper billet where we had spent our downtime during warp transit was littered with various souvenir weaponry. Kuhrt’s bunk had a semi-automatic handgun with, Helsreach industries: Armageddon stamped on its slide, strapped to the underside of the mattress. I once saw Tarleton twirling around a huge jagged axe whilst he watched Briant and Wallinga play cards. I didn’t know it then but he’d taken that fugging massive blade from the cold dead hands of a greenskin. After a little while you get to know how to keep these things hidden on a ship and since Storm Troopers are given a wide berth by pretty much everyone we tend to amass bigger collections of illicit weaponry than anyone else. There was one thing I had noticed though. Only Sekunda and myself were carrying bayonets back then. Every other Storm Trooper had an individual combat knife strapped about their person that I was nigh certain had been hand-forged. As fresh meat we learned pretty quickly that the more ritualistic something seems the fewer questions you should ask about it so we kept our mouths shut and hoped someone would tell us when the time was right. The only problem with that plan was that the people who knew the answers to the knife question were rapidly getting killed.






We weren’t too far from the farmhouse so I didn’t have a chance to bring the issue up before we began to approach the edge of the tree line. There was a truck parked out front which was something of a mixed blessing for us. On the one hand that meant there was a vehicle we could use to ride into town with but it also suggested that the owner was at home.

“Are we just going to try and steal it?” I asked, nervously.

“We need clothes first” Kaleb replied. “And this damned winter means no one’s drying their laundry outside. Fug. We’re going to have to go in. I don’t want any killing but there’s no way were going to be able to sneak in and out of a house that small without running into someone.”

“So we barge in and ask nicely for their clothes and their vehicle?” asked Sekunda.

“And some produce to sell” added Kuhrt.

“Seems about right” Kaleb began. “We’ll take one of them hostage so nobody alerts the authorities and when we get where we’re going we can send the prisoner back with their truck... Its risky but the best bet short of killing them all.” Kaleb nodded to himself and took a breath. “Ok, troopers knives up and on the double!” He declared before bounding towards the back door of the house in a low crouching run. We caught up to him at the porch and the four of us kicked the rickety door right out of its frame. I was the first into the house, checking the rooms with my knife at the ready but seeing nothing but bookshelves and wardrobes until we rounded the first corner and rampaged into the kitchen. Waiting for us was a solitary old man in his underwear, sitting at his table with a mug of recaff steaming away and a spoon full of nutrient soup halfway to his mouth. Not knowing how to react he simply froze in place as Kaleb paced over to him and we checked the last rooms of his home.

“All clear” I called after we met back at the kitchen.

“You all alone, sir?” Kaleb asked the old man as we walked back over.

“All alone” he replied, almost in a daze with his spoon still raised in the air.

“There are multiple bedrooms here” Kuhrt said.

“Where’s the rest of your family, sir” Kaleb asked with a measurably calmer tone than I was used to.

“I’m all alone...” The man repeated and his eyes sank along with the spoon he was holding. I looked around and found an image stuck to the man’s refrigeration unit. A father and two sons, working in the fields.

“You have two children?” I asked as I handed him the image.

“My boys... My boys went off to fight... with men like you. Who are you?”

“We’re soldiers, sir. Like your boys” Kaleb replied. “And we need your help today. We’re not here to hurt you we just need to borrow some clothes and use your truck.”

“You kicked in my door and now you want to take my livelihood.” Snapped the man, clearly coming back to his senses.

“I apologise for that but we’ll leave the truck for you in town. Kuhrt, Sekunda. Repair that door!”

“You soldiers are all liars. They told me my boys would come back heroes but I haven’t heard from them in years. I can’t run this farm without them... without my Elle... You’ve taken so much from me already and now you’re here for the rest... Just kill me and be done with it. Its either that or I wait for the cold to come for me anyway.”

Kaleb sighed quietly and put his knife away. This was a side of war that I had never thought I’d see and it made me uncomfortable. I tried to look away to take my mind off the man’s pain but the dilapidation of his home didn’t offer any respite.

“I’m sorry about your troubles, old man” Kaleb said as he reached into his trouser pocket. “If you can find somewhere to sell this it ought to get you enough to retire with. Take it for the door, some clothes and the loan of your truck. We’ll leave it near the Jocasta ridge and tape the keys under the front right wheel arch.” Kaleb finished and set his personal auspex device down on the kitchen table; crafty fugger had kept his one.

“Just take what you want and leave. Leave me alone... all alone.” The old man looked over the deactivated auspex, trying to assess what made it so valuable and waved us away with his other hand.

“You heard him. Get what we need and assemble in the truck.” Said Kaleb.

We bustled our way through the vacated rooms until we came across what must have been his sons’ wardrobe and set to exchanging our camouflaged fatigues for the dusty leathers and dungarees of farm hands. We kept our boots though; quality footwear is a throne assured rarity on most Imperial warzones and its twice as useful. It didn't take us long to swap out our gear but we were still waiting on Kuhrt in the next room and nobody liked giving the LT any excuses. I put an ear up to the door but I couldn't hear much other than some muffled gibberish but from the tone it didn't seem as though Kuhrt was too happy.

"Just open the door and see whats taking her so long" Sekunda said when he poked his head out of the sons' room. I didn't reply; all I could muster was a look of skeptical apprehension. "Oh fine then you big juve." Sek pushed me out of the way and managed to get the door halfway open before Kuhrt was bearing down on us.

"The fug do you think your doing?!" She snapped before slamming the door back on us.

"Its a good thing you were here to take charge of the situation" I laughed as Sekunda turned to face me, eyebrows raised. "What the fug was she wearing anyways?"

"No idea, mate. Looked like she was trying to turn some kind of dress into a floral version of combat fatigues... What's her problem anyway? We've all seen each other naked a hundred times" Sekunda asked.

"Well yeah but that's just when we have to. You don't walk around the barracks starkers do you?" I pointed out.

"Wallinga does."

"Fair point" I conceded. "EIther way lets just go wait by the truck."

We took a moment to compose ourselves and hid our knives under our jackets before we stepped out to see Kaleb putting on a leather duster and heading for the door.

“Much appreciated, sir. Lets go boys.” Kaleb called as he headed out into the cold, patchy sunshine. We followed him out and walked up to the Truck’s cab but Kaleb turned around and stopped us. Sekunda you’re riding up front with me and Kuhrt, Tuplin you get in the back and mind our cargo. We need a cover story so you two are my sons understood?”

“Yes, sir” we chorused.

“Maybe stick with ‘Pa’ for now, lads. Oh and Sekunda you can say hello to your new wife and pass the plan along to her whilst we’re driving alright?” Kaleb smiled.

I busted a grin as I watched Sek’s face turn red with embarrassment then white with fear as he saw Sara Kuhrt the professional killer emerge from the farmhouse in her new garb. It seemed that nothing the old man had kept of his wife's clothing was small enough to stay on Kuhrt's wiry frame so she had been forced to turn a long flower dress into a makeshift jumpsuit by strategically ripping and re-tying the fabric.

"Not a word" she barked as she stomped past us and into the truck's cab, grabbing the jacket that was lying on the seats.

I laughed as I hopped up into the back and sat down amongst the cold produce. Whatever that farmer was growing was hardy as ceramite to be sprouting in this winter but I doubt its survivability matched its taste. Either way I kept my smile as I pictured the road ahead.


We had the scent of blood.

Oh how a true band of devils your characters are evolving into. I like that. Well done

Thanks!

It seems a bit out the frying pan and into the fire for our band of hero's. Hunted, tired, and virtually alone, do they have the grit to survive I wonder? Only time will tell. May the Emperor guide them in their quest.

You're right about that! But we ought to see a few patches of sunshine in the next section when I finally get it done!

As always, thanks for reading and commenting. It really means a lot to me

Great progression, can't wait for them all to be done so I can sit with a glass of amasec and enjoy it in one go!

We need more of this divine goodness! Dont keep us waiting!

Ha! Thanks guys! Funnily enough I was planning on getting the next section started today.

Shouldn't be too long to wait

11

The morning sun kept climbing as our truck rattled its way through cratered country lanes with tree branches whipping at the windshield and making me jump. The loud snap was far too similar to the discharge of a lasgun for my liking and, despite being tossed around with the cargo in the back, I was glad the others couldn’t see me flinching. It had only been a couple of hours since the mission went south and I was only just regaining my composure. All sorts of obvious questions started to come back to me. Food, shelter and weapons at first; survival training never leaves you. But then I remembered something Sekunda had said and a wave of panicked shame overcame me. I rapped on the partition that separated me from the drivers cab until a slat was pulled to the side and Kuhrt’s face greeted me.

“Kuhrt, LT” I paused for a second to scratch at the stubble that was forming on my chin. “Where the fug is Wallinga?!”

Kuhrt just smirked and looked over to Kaleb. “Don’t you worry about Wallinga, son” Kaleb laughed as he drove, his eyes remaining firmly on the road. “If they couldn’t catch him when his guard was down they don’t have a prayer now he knows he’s being hunted. I don’t know how far off from the rendezvous point he was when Naval Intelligence hit us which means we’re going to have just as hard a time finding him as Mr Black is. So we’ll go and get the job done and he can have himself a rest until we get the all clear from the captain.”

“Yeah,” Kuhrt chimed in. “He’s the lucky one in all of this. You just stay focused on yourself; sooner or later Wallinga always turns up.”

“If you say so” I replied. It felt odd to just assume that Wallinga was fine but the confidence in Kaleb’s tone told me that this wasn’t the first time he’d lost contact with that murderous shadow of a man. Wallinga cut a keen, dark profile in my mind and the image of him sharpening his soot-black combat knife with a genuine tenderness would have sent chills down my spine if the shaggy haired killer hadn’t been so damn congenial to me. For all his field craft and apparent enjoyment for the bloodier elements of our duty it didn’t seem to stop Wallinga from laughing as hard as the rest of the team at Krentz' jokes or sharing a smoke here and there. Truth be told I was a little ashamed that I hadn’t thought of his safety sooner but there was an odd sort of feeling that he would be fine even before the LT had said anything.

In the end it didn’t really matter because Kaleb was right, we’d never be able to find him quickly enough to catch up with Dacker and there was precious little I wanted more than a chance to pay him back for the comrades he had taken from us. Thoughts of vengeance were building up a pool of rage inside my chest that was slowly overpowering the shock and fear of the situation and the more I visualised the righteous punishment that we would be delivering the more confident I became that we could get it done. Dacker was going to suffer.

After a while the country lanes we had been bouncing around evened out into properly paved roads and we started to glimpse a little traffic here and there. Lucky for us it seemed like there were a fair few farmers selling their produce in the town so at least we wouldn’t stick out if we kept our story straight. The wagons of vegetables were a welcome sight but for every civilian vehicle there was a truck load of soldiers being ferried about and this only got worse as we drove closer to the city. It wasn’t long before the traffic started to pile up and that meant only one thing. Checkpoints.

“Alright lets all just stay calm and act like this is just another normal day” said Kaleb. We pulled in behind the car that was currently being inspected and watched the soldiers check the vehicle over. They were a Kolstec regiment I think; this far from the front lines my knowledge of Imperial Guard dispositions started to get a little hazy and they were too far away to make out any insignia. Wherever they were from they clearly weren’t in any hurry to win medals. Their rifles were slung, they were spread out with no thought to their fields of fire and best of all they didn’t seem to be looking too closely at their targets.

This was all great news for us but even so this hiding in plain sight lark wasn’t something we had been trained for and that’s an uncomfortable feeling for a soldier. I was pretty sure Kaleb was going to end up doing most of the talking and that suited me down to the bone. I’m sure Naval Intelligence operatives get taught all sorts of accent mimicry and rapport building techniques to get them through questioning but the only things I really knew how to do were hide in the dark and kill you when you weren’t looking.

“Alright, Showtime” Kaleb mumbled before we drove up to the checkpoint and wound the windows down.

“Mornin’ sir. What’s your business in town today?” The bored looking guardsman said whilst absent mindedly tapping away on a dataslate. His lasgun was slung down and being used as his armrest. Sloppy...

“Selling my Turkha at the Jocasta market” Kaleb replied quietly.

“Hmm, ok. Who’s travelling with you?” The guardsman gestured his slate at us.

“My son and his wife” Kaleb said and Sekunda held up Kuhrt’s hand in his with a deranged smile that I was sure was going to get us killed. “And in the back is my youngest.” Kaleb jerked a thumb in my direction cueing me to poke my face up to the tiny window and proffer a stupid grin of my own.

“... right” the Guardsman said and mumbled something undoubtedly insulting to the country dwelling folk of Narbo to his squad mates. “Well lets see your ident papers then and Serko over here is just going to check the back.”

There were two raps on the back door to the truck and I moved over to open the door for the next bored guardsman. He nodded to me as I stepped out then poked his head inside for a few seconds to make sure our cargo wasn’t lethal. I couldn’t hear what Kaleb was saying but I was damn sure hoping it was good since none of us had anything remotely resembling a valid identity on this planet.

“Are you Gakking me...” the first guardsman said with more frustration than anger and my instinct to reach for the knife strapped to the back of my belt subsided slightly. “That’s the fifth one in a row, Serko. Why are we getting orders to check for ident papers if none of these hicks fugging have them.”

“Throne, I don’t know man. There’s more of em without than with. They ain’t carrying nothing dangerous just send em in with the rest and let the clerks worry about it.”
It was a struggle not to breathe a sigh of relief at Serko’s glorious incompetence and I just about managed a simple smile before I hopped back in the truck and shut the doors. I could hear the first guardsman sighing with the inevitability of a man doing a bad job because he doesn’t care about it and I kept myself out of sight so I could grin.

“Well go on then, sir but just you make sure to pick up your papers whilst you’re in town today or next time you won’t be able to get through.”

“Appreciate it, mister” Kaleb replied and went to start up the van.

“Hold on there, pal” the guardsman warned and I froze with anticipation. “You’re not from these parts now are you? I know that accent.”

“My father, he was a Cadian; Mustered out here. I guess I picked up his way of talking.” Said Kaleb whilst I prayed the explanation would land.

“Ah that’s it!” The guardsman exclaimed. “I don’t forget an accent... Hell I should have known by your eyes. Didn’t figure you for a military brat but I guess we can’t all be soldiers eh?”

“I suppose you’re right” Kaleb replied.

“On your way then, sir. And don’t forget your papers!”

We pulled away from the checkpoint and drove for about a minute in silence before Sekunda and I burst out with laughter. I had managed to sweat through my shirt and by the sounds of it Sekunda had done the same to Kuhrt’s hand; a hand she took no time to smear back onto Sekunda’s jacket.

“Laugh it up you idiots, get it out of your system” Kaleb interrupted. “The Jocasta checkpoint is run by Mordians; they live and die for paperwork so you better start working on how we’re going to talk our way through.”

That shut us up.




But I couldn’t think of anything that would explain our lack of papers and throne knows Mordians won’t even take a gak without the right authorisation. I peered through the window slat to get a look at the town but it was mostly grey brick with the occasional bombed out building blocking the usual concourse. There weren’t many people out on the streets and I suppose that made sense; why risk leaving shelter if you didn’t absolutely have to. Sure, Narbo Primus was a fair distance off the front lines and the intervening guard regiments had AA emplacements set up but their position was stretched at several points and from what we’d heard the Navy fighters were having a tough time holding onto their air superiority. Apparently there was a renegade fleet operating within reach of the system and Narbo would periodically lose swathes of its air protection whenever the Navy cruisers were required on a patrol.

As far as we knew the Lord Dubois was still on station so the commotion of an air raid was unlikely to give us the opportunity to get through the town undetected. You catch yourself sometimes, when you’re hoping to get caught in an airstrike, and wonder what it would be like to serve as an Administratum clerk filling out quota reports and deciding which colour ink to use...

A rapping on the truck cab’s partition brought me out of my daydream and back to the task at hand.

“Checkpoints up ahead, Tuplin” called Sekunda. “10 guardsmen, emplaced heavy bolter covering the approach and barricades on all the roads except the way through. Aren’t you glad we held onto our knives?” In that moment, with my hand on the blade’s hilt to calm my nerves, I truly was. A good knife can solve most of your problems; you just have to figure out where to apply it.

“We’re pulling over” Kaleb grunted as he shunted the truck onto the curb. “We kill them and NI finds out within the hour and then we’re dead. We try to run the blockade and if we survive NI finds out and we’re dead. We could masquerade as guardsmen but when the squad we jump doesn’t report in NI will find out and then we’re dead. We need a distraction that can’t be traced back to us.”

“LT...” I ventured, nervous about what I was thinking. “What if we caused a civil disturbance. Forced the Checkpoint off their position and snuck past in the confusion.”

“You’re talking about treason!” Sekunda exclaimed.

“He’s talking sense” Kaleb snapped and Sek dropped his glare. “The legion put us in this mess by trying to start a revolution. We may as well make the most of it; a little riot might be just what we need.”




Half an hour later Kaleb and I were walking into the city sector’s marketplace behind Kuhrt and Sekunda. Sek and Kuhrt hadn’t been caught by the Alpha Legion surveillance due to the sniper’s predilection for long ranged kills so they would be taking the lead on this scheme. Kaleb and I had donned enough foul weather gear to hide our faces and hope for the best. At first I thought it was strange that there wasn’t an obvious manhunt underway for us but Kuhrt pointed out that the last thing NI wanted was for Narbo to think that the Imperium hadn’t had its full revenge. Years later I began to appreciate what Kuhrt was talking about; nobody tells you about half of the horrors that are running around out there until they’re right on top of you. Naval Intelligence would notify the nearest Guard assets of hostile agents the moment they pinpointed us but until that moment they’d never even hint that there was a problem. That suited us fine.

As we walked towards the sector square we noted the scattered guardsman on every other street corner but not nearly enough to throw a wrench in the works since the frontlines were so stretched. These troopers were Kolstec, probably the same regiment as the squad from the first checkpoint and every bit as disinterested in their job.

Putting soldiers on peace keeping duty is a bad idea. Sure they’re intimidating but soldiers are trained to fight; keeping the peace is almost the opposite of what we’re bred for. The tools and skills needed to assuage an angry civilian or moderate a dispute are an entirely different set to those that a Guardsman is given and trying to get one to do an Arbites’ job is just asking for trouble. But when the manpower runs dry every governor’s first and usually only bet is to put a man with a gun out in public and hope that scares the civvies into shutting up.

By the looks of things the Kolstec guardsman seemed to have the populace keeping their heads down but it didn’t take too long to start overhearing the grumbles and resentment of frustrated civilians ready to vent their anger on something.

“This was Krentz’ line of work” Kuhrt mumbled as she pushed her way past a couple of scrap metal traders.

“That boy could have been a commissar” Kaleb added.

“Fug Commissars” I spat. “Krentz was no executioner.”

“Damn right” Said Sekunda.

“Every man has his job” Kaleb grunted and we turned to him in surprise. “Understand me, boys. That black-heart Commissar ended the life of my oldest friend. My gut wants him dead as much as you but the reason that the executioner pulled the trigger is because the Alpha Legion orchestrated a situation where that would have to happen.”

“Lt’s right” said Kuhrt. “The man who’s going to pay is Dacker.”

“Course I’m right, lass. But stop calling me Lt” Kaleb replied.



By the time we had finished squabbling we were just nearing the central market stands where a couple of surly Kolstec boys casually sized us up. Kuhrt didn’t waste any time and marched straight towards the guardsman with an expression of outrage whilst the rest of us hung back and kept watch.

“You louts call yourselves guardsmen!? What were you guarding last night whilst our people were being butchered?” Kuhrt had got herself right in the faces of the two young soldiers and was screaming at them loud enough to start drawing a crowd. Kaleb and I started to help things along by yelling cries of agreement and spreading the disturbance further.

“Stand down, mam” one Kolstec barked as he unslung his rifle. “You need to back away right now.”

“Or you’ll murder me too?” Kuhrt wailed, every inch the ignorant and disgruntled civilian. “That’s right you curs, either you’re too incompetent to protect us or the broadcasts were right and you’re the ones butchering us!”

That set them off. The second guardsman unslung his rifle at the same moment that the first swung the butt of his lasgun into Kuhrt’s stomach. The fool telegraphed his attack so blatantly that I was sure it hurt Kuhrt more to actually have to take the hit than the physical pain itself. Either way she hammed up the drama and fell to her knees coughing whilst Sekunda ran over to her.

“That’s my wife you monster!” He pleaded with a surprisingly convincing outburst of emotion. I had been contenting myself with yelling affirmatives and shaking my fist but those two were actually whipping the crowd into something resembling a mob. As the citizens of Narbo Primus began to close in on the commotion the guardsmen did exactly what an Arbites wouldn’t and started pointing their rifles at the approaching citizens. By now the two Kolstec boys were cut off from the rest of their squad mates and this only aggravated the situation as the other scattered guardsmen began to panic.

This was our cue to melt away and let human nature run its course. Kaleb and I grabbed Sek and Kurht as the crowd surged around us and together we pulled back out of the throng and towards the edge of the market. We hadn’t got far before the first shot rang out and the mob began to explode with panic and fury. By the time we had reached our truck there were soldiers sprinting towards the disturbance, including Mordians. It was a tough call risking the lives of civilians and guardsmen alike but the further we sank into desperation the more I realised that being a Storm Trooper meant serving in situations that require grim deeds and a cold heart. I don’t know how many casualties were recorded as a result of that riot but when the remaining Mordian frantically waved us through the checkpoint I only felt relief.



Guilt, much like courage, comes after you need it.

Another fine chapter Rez, keep up the good work.

Thanks man!

Oh very well done, noting like a bit of stirring up the local folks to help in ones escape to safety

Cheers buddy!

And for some shameless self promotion! Read my own work

Shameless, utterly shameless. Asking him to read Ashild when he knows he should be reading about my Panthers instead (read it! read it now!). I would never do such a thing.

Sorry guys, I do feel bad for not being able to get around to your work lately.

I'll get on the case!

Don't worry about it rez, get to them in your own time. I'd much rather you keep churning out the goodness then read mine tbh. I recommend Trondheim's stories though.

Wow certainly alot of reading material here, pretty jealous of your productivity. The strongest part of this for me is the large amount of character in the protagonist, i find i have a good sense of him as a real human being.

I have read up to and including part 6.

I do struggle on the whole with both first person and highly technical military fiction, so i perhaps didn't enjoy the story as much as i might.

However the one problem i found with the writing was the sometimes overly long sentences. IIRC first person writing should rely on shorter kinda 'stream of consciousness' sentences. (For posterity i might add that Stream of Con. writing often doesn't have any punctuation whatsoever (including apostrophes lol) but if you read a piece you'd see that technically it's loads of short sentences, for (extreme) examples see Ullyses or certain passages of 'Gormenghast'.

A good example of what i really mean would be Chuck Palahnuik's 'Fight Club' or Irvine Welsh's 'Trainspotting'). Loads of short sentences and few commas.

Of course sometimes they are necessary, sometimes a large amount of information needs to be delivered quickly.

This weakness is most obvious in the very first entry. I didn't feel as engaged as maybe i should, i felt a little lost. The action writing was at it's best for me during the passage when they are trying to get through the fence if that's any help.

Overall i thought part 3, the first briefing, was the finest writing here. The dialogue was excellent and got me far more engaged in the military fiction. Infact both the briefing scenes are very good.

Thanks so much for taking the time to do this. That's a lot of really useful criticism i'll be sure to take on board as I go forward.

Cheers again!

When do we get more of this goodness?

I shall begin the next chapter today so it won't be too long my friend.

12

Jocasta was a dump. In truth the whole city was a dump and probably had been since before the war but Jocasta had really taken a pasting and it showed. We left the truck near the so called market which consisted of a vegetable stand and a juve pushing a trolley full of pornography. This sector was mostly populated with rear echelon guardsmen so no prizes for guessing which business was raking in the thrones.

The winter snows had been turned to grey slush by the urban heat and relentless trafficking of soldiers on broken roads. My Boots kept the damp out but I couldn’t help looking at the filthy sludge as a corrupted version of the white powder we had landed on in the far north. The snow, it seemed, was whiter on the enemy side.

Not that the northern countryside held any particularly fond memories for me. But it was where we were headed and excepting the thought of cracking Dacker’s jaw bones I needed something to look forward to. Vengeance was only a cold comfort since there was no certainty we would catch up with him and even less certainty we would actually be able to take him alive.

In order to achieve anything we would need weapons and supplies. Our disguise had gotten us to the rear of the Mordian defensive perimeter but they wouldn’t be letting civilians stroll into no man’s land so it was time to drop the act.

“There’s a supply dump two blocks from here” Kaleb mused as we trudged away from the market. “We ought to be through the Guard lines before the hour’s out so we can afford to break in the old fashioned way.”

“You think we’ve got the numbers for that, LT?” Sekunda asked.

“Rear Echelon personnel are first reserves in a civil disturbance, kid” Kuhrt replied with the hint of a sneer.

“Kid? And how many missions have you run?” Sekunda pouted.

“Enough...” Kaleb grunted. “Kid.”

That was that. There was no hiding the fact that Sek and I were growing into our roles as Storm Troopers but the loss of half the team kept anyone from enjoying it. We walked the rest of the way in silence until we hit the Supply dump. As far as we could tell it was just a small and relatively intact storehouse with two Mordians standing to attention outside in their bright blues. Our little riot had practically cleaned the rest of the streets of troops so it wasn’t too much trouble to take two guardsmen down quietly. If we had had the time we might have attempted to sneak into the building via the roof but the angry mob we had summoned wouldn’t rage forever and every minute that went by saw Dacker track closer to safety.

“Nothing fancy this time troopers. Straight up the middle and follow my lead.” Kaleb started off down the road and didn’t even look back to see if we were following him. I was half tempted to stay put and just watch him deal with the problem by himself but my legs were moving involuntarily. You find that after a while in the Guard you tend to respond to orders before you’ve even started to think about them. Its unnerving but it gets the boys up and over the trenches...

In the end I barely had to do anything. Kaleb walked right up to the door with a smile and asked the guardsmen for directions to the market. The Mordians glanced at each other for a second and before they could look back at us Kaleb had landed a fist in each of their throats. Not enough to crush the windpipe completely but it knocked them senseless long enough for us to secure their trigger arms and find something hefty on their webbing. They were out cold quick enough and now we had two lasguns and a front door key.

“Probably looking at a quarter master with one or two assistants, might have side arms so don’t take any chances but we’ll try and take them alive if we can.” Kaleb took point on the door and we stacked up behind him. He unlocked the door with one hand and led us in rifle first with the other. His duster swept up in the draft of the doorway and obscured my vision for what was normally the most vital second but when my line of sight cleared I almost laughed. The place was deserted.

“Things must be worse than I thought out here” said Kaleb. “Clear the rest of the rooms, I’ll bring in the two meatbags and stash them somewhere safe.” There weren’t any surprises hiding for us in the tiny storehouse but there wasn’t a great deal of materiel to be had either.

“It’s not exactly a Navy vault, sir” Sekunda quipped. There was a running joke among Storm Troopers on board Imperial Navy vessels that Naval Security must be sitting on a hive lord’s ransom in exotic confiscated weaponry. Several abortive attempts to actually figure out where such a stash might be kept had left me with an unshakable desire to own a needle pistol. It wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility that I might be issued one at some point but its not quite the same when you know you have to give it back.

“So you don’t think I’ll be finding my pistol today?” I laughed.

“There’s a box of stubbers in the corner, maybe she’s hiding under one of the revolvers” Sek replied.

“They’ve got fatigues and rifles, that’s enough for me” stated Kuhrt as she grabbed at the stacks of clothes and scooped up a lasrifle.

“That’s enough for all of us” barked Kaleb. “Get yourself into some Kolstec greys and take a lasgun, you ought to be able to pick the rest of your kit yourself by now.”

This would have been something of a treat for Sek and I had the armoury not been so woefully under equipped. Grey fatigues were a sure bet, as were the lasguns. They might not make the most subtle weapons but they get the job done when you pull the trigger. Not having to lug around a case of ammo so you can, at least, move with some speed is a nice bonus. Other than that we were treated to a basic webbing harness, fragmentation grenades and the choice between a stub revolver or a laspistol. It didn’t seem like much of a contest to me; six shots compared to eighty? The stub guns were left to rust for a reason.






We assembled outside the supply dump looking a little more like soldiers and feeling a lot more comfortable. We were only a short distance from the outer perimeter and that meant a return to the shadows. This section of the Mordian line was stretched pretty thin but they still had their eyes open. Technically speaking we were still in disguise. Our uniforms marked us out as Kolstec grenadiers but that wouldn’t do us much good in a Mordian emplacement. The name of the game was sneaking so we stuck to the alleys and picked our way through the smouldering wreckage of fallen tower blocs until we hit the front line.

Approaching the Mordian positions from the rear made it a damn sight easier to spot them, especially since our sensory equipment was buried in a hole in the woods. Their blue uniforms baffled me at first. They looked like they were getting ready for a parade rather than a city fight but their trench system kept them fairly well concealed from the enemy point of view. Still, it didn’t seem too wise to give hostiles any help with spotting you and a blue dress shirt with gold epaulettes just seemed like a ‘shoot me’ sign.

“You think they’d be having so much trouble on this planet if somebody taught them about camouflage?” I murmured. Kuhrt laughed quietly as we overlooked the Mordian trenches from the fourth floor of a bombed out scholam.

“You ever seen a Mordian firing line?” Kaleb asked without taking his eyes off the guardsmen. “Course you haven’t. They don’t fight like us but that doesn’t mean they don’t fight well. They wear that dressy uniform because it instils martial pride and a fear of disgracing the regiment. Believe me, when you’re firing by ranks into a horde of greenskins you’ll need every ounce of courage you have not to take a step back. Pride is simply one of the best shortcuts to bravery.”

“Why do you think so many guard regiments insist on carrying their colours into battle?” Kuhrt added with a wry smile. I nodded and turned back to look over the trench network. It was true I’d never seen a Mordian regiment fight but I was starting to get a feel for how it might look. After a few minutes of mental mapping we crept back from the lip of the rubble and made a small replica of the trench network in the dust and rocks of the floor.

“What do we think?” Kaleb asked and I spoke up first.

“They’ve positioned themselves for maximum firing arcs on their heavy weapons but they’ve left small gaps in their line of sight on their left flank. There’s a sinkhole between their line and that manufactorum. Looks like a tunnel collapse, probably into a sub-level tram system or somesuch.”

“Right, the enemy couldn’t get a platoon into position through there so the Mordians won’t spare men to watch it” said Kaleb.

“We can approach from the south, sir” said Kuhrt. “We’ve got ruins all the way to the edge of the line and they won’t be looking our way.”

“Dacker must have come through here, its perfect” Sekunda growled. We nodded in silence and flicked the safeties off our rifles.

The descent back through the scholam didn’t take long. It was somewhat strange to see what a provincial education looked like. There were still Emperor’s Day catechisms and Aquillas adorning the walls but the preponderance of colour was unnerving. The Schola Progenia was almost entirely gunmetal grey. Steel desks, steel chairs and identical stationery packets were our daily tools but here there were displays of student artwork and smashed cabinets where, presumably, athletic trophies had been exhibited. If it weren’t for the burnt out classrooms and caved in ceilings this place might have seemed friendly. But, hell, at least our scholam was still standing.

Making our way through the ruins was simple enough. No patrols back here and enough cover to avoid the gaze of any Mordians who were pining for the safety of the city centre. Occasionally we would have to sprint, one at a time, between buildings or across road sections that hadn’t been cluttered with debris but the Imperial lines were so undermanned it was hardly a struggle.

The trouble started when we neared the sinkhole. Three Mordians sneaking off for a lho stick wasn’t in our calculations and they were sitting right on our point of entry.

“What the fug happened to the Mordian fetish for rules and regulations!?” I whispered.

“They’re still guardsmen” Sek replied.

“Not for long,” sighed Kaleb. “Ready knives.”

“We’re just going to kill them?!” I found myself asking.

“We can’t let Dacker gain any more ground on us, son; so we can’t wait for them to leave. We can’t risk one of them getting a shot off or calling for help so we can’t use anything less than lethal force. They’re in the way of your mission, trooper.” Kaleb scrutinised me with a stern look whilst Kuhrt and Sekunda slung their rifles and drew their blades. I knew he was right. I knew what had to be done. But my head was swimming as I unclipped my knife from its sheath.

“Kuhrt, you cover our approach from here. Make sure it goes smooth. I’ll take the left one, Sek you’re on the right. Tuplin you take out the centre man.” Kaleb’s gaze lingered on me for a moment and despite what he was asking me to do I still felt a very real sense of shame for raising his concern.

“Begin.” Was the last thing he said before we stalked out of the shadows and towards the three guardsmen. They were sitting on the edge of the sinkhole, sharing a smoke and some laughs. I felt sick. We were silent as the grave on our approach and I could hear the soldiers’ conversation. Something about a secret bottle of booze stashed in their billet. We were on them now, three daggers raised in cold unison, straining to fall.

But I hesitated. Kaleb and Sekunda moved on their marks with one hand over their unsuspecting mouths and a knife driven straight into the neck, severing the jugular. Half a second behind them, I saw my target’s hands reach for his rifle and plunged my blade into his neck. The wretched Mordian managed a gargled cry but it was barely a whisper on the wind. He spasmed in my arms for a moment then went as limp as his friends.

“Good work,” Kaleb grunted. “Throw them in.” The bodies tumbled into the sinkhole with a muffled thud as they hit the floor. As my victim tumbled away from me I noticed my right hand was entirely covered in rich arterial blood. I shook the worst of it off and watched it stain the rocks at my feet without saying a word.

Kuhrt was loping up towards us but stopped when she saw me and took a breath. “You did good” she said. I didn’t reply. I threw up.

“Easy, son” Kaleb intervened. “We didn’t have a choice. But now we have to move or it’ll be for nothing.”

I nodded in silence. There wasn’t anything to say. I hadn’t refused the order or even suggested an alternative. I had been ordered to kill so I killed. Killed a man who had committed no crime; he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. The chill of it was that now I could see Kaleb and Kuhrt looking at me with more respect.

And I began to savour it.

Sneaking about, murder and breaking intoa Mordian armory! Now this was a good read, shamelss praise aside I like how your characthers have develop as of late. Well done

Yes the maintain character is slowly becoming a silent cog in the machine. I'm sure his inner disgust at his actions will ease soon.

Good job.