Fortune’s Favored
Imperial Carrack Class Troop Transport
Crew: 3000 Naval personnel
400 Naval Armsmen
8,000 Savlar 66th Chem-Dogs
Status: Currently Awaiting Assignment


The Fortune’s Favored was, by all accounts, a flying prison. Its sole purpose was to ferry its dangerous cargo from warzone to warzone. Armed naval security officers stood guard at every major junction at the fore of the ship. Aft was largely given over to the Savlar 66th Chem-Dogs and their cells. Murderers, thieves and anarchists from the prisons of Savlar, sent out into the galaxy’s worst toxic nightmares to fight and die for the Emperor.
“Attention Savlar 66th. Armed patrols will be coming through your decks. You know the routine. Strip down to skivvies, move to the back of your cell, and remain still. Any sudden movement will be met with lethal force. When cell inspections have finished, and the security teams have left your section, you are free to move around again. Until then, remain still.”
A chorus of moans and curses rose up from the aft of the ship as the blue warning lights flickered on in each cell. Sergeant Seravin Corr tossed his handful of cards onto the small folding table, stood and sighed as he pulled off his undershirt and tossed it over by the front of the cell.
“You know the drill. Sooner they’re done, the sooner we can get back to our game.”
His squad groaned loudly as they deposited their cards on the table before standing and peeling off their grimy clothing and added it to the pile started by Corr.
“We ain’t been off this can for weeks. Where in da hell we ‘sposed to get anything…” grunted Callahan as he sauntered toward the back of the cell.
“You forget Cally. There’s a whole army of navy boys to steal from here.” Briggs called from her cell across the room. She ignored the leering gazes of the men across from her as she peeled off her clothing and moved to the back of her cell. A deep laugh made eyes turn to the cell next to Corr’s. A large meaty frame leaned against the bars and arms like tree trunks stuck through, gesturing while the man talked.
“Whole army o’ navy.” Mason, the heavy gunner chuckled. “I hate myself for likin’ that one.”
“We all hate you Mason, now get back against the wall!” Corr shouted.
“Yup, yup. Sure thing, boss.” The muscular arms disappeared within their cell once more. Corr rubbed his temple.
“Idiots… I’m surrounded by idiots…”

Less than three hours later the armsmen finished their routine security sweep, returned to their half of the ship and the warning lights went dead. Corr sighed, running a hand over his shaved skull and bent to pick up his shirt.
“Deal a new hand Cally.”
“Figures, I had great cards too.” He muttered as he sat and started shuffling.
“Course you did. You cheat.” Stakely hissed through broken, yellowed teeth as he plopped himself down into his seat.
A clanging at the bars of the cell interrupted the conversation and drew their attention. Two armsmen and a commissar stood there.
“You. Sergeant. Come with me.” The commissar hissed. The way he said Corr’s rank sounded like he was spitting poison.
Stakely flashed a noxious grin.
“You’re in trouble, Sarge.” He said. Corr glared at him sidelong and kicked his chair out from under him. There was a satisfying crack as the man’s jaw connected with the card table before he hit the floor in a whimpering mess. The commissar eyed him briefly before turning away as the armsmen opened the cell.
“This way.” The commissar repeated as he walked down the corridor.
“Help Stakely find his teeth Cally, I’ll be back.” Corr said as he stepped out of the cell and followed the commissar, flanked by the two armsmen, the barrels of their shotcannons aimed at his back, encouraging continued compliance.
After long minutes of silence, the small group arrived at a blast door. Corr shivered. He was all too familiar with interrogation chambers. The door hissed opened and the commissar eyed Corr from under his cap.
“Sit.” He ordered. Corr swallowed the fear building in his throat, and moved forward to sit in the chair on the far end of the table. He hadn’t done anything wrong. At least, not recently. The mere touch of the cold metal chair sent chills down his spine, his mind instantly dredging up the interrogation chamber after his little...
“Sergeant Seravin Corr.”
Corr blinked, drawn from his little reverie by the commissar’s stern voice. It took him entirely too long to realize he hadn’t been strapped down. The commissar looked up from a dataslate, staring at Corr with cold, unblinking eyes.
“Born on Heidrun. Orphaned at age three, parents killed in action. Attended the Schola Progenium at age four. Quickly overcame your classmates and graduated with honors. Murdered your fellow graduates in cold blood the morning after graduation. Sentenced to life on Savlar for your crime. Quickly snatched up by the Chem-Dogs for your Progena training.” The commissar set the dataslate on the table.
“That’s me.” Corr said, hoping his show of bravado hid his nervousness.
“What did you specialize in at the Schola, Sergeant?”
“I was to be a storm trooper. My skills laid heavily in force-multiplied deconstruction.”
“You mean demolitions?”
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” The commissar’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
“I have a mission. One that requires the level of skill that, let’s face it, is largely absent from anything Savlar can dredge up.”
“Stop, your flattery is going to make me blush.” Corr said. He saw the commissar twitch, but through sheer force of will, the commissar maintained his composure. He leaned forward and steepled his gloved fingers. His head turned ever so slightly to the side and one of the two armsmen stepped forward and cracked the butt of his shotcannon into the side of Corr’s head. He reeled but managed to remain both in his seat and conscious.
“Look, filth. I don’t like you. If I had my way I would render you and your entire regiment into so much fine paste against the bulkhead. But you serve a purpose for the Imperium and for that you are spared from your deserved fate.” Corr rubbed at his throbbing head, feeling his own sticky blood running down his temple.
“So order me already. Ain’t like I can refuse you, can I, Sir.” Corr hissed through clenched teeth. The commissar leaned back, and appeared to smirk for almost a full second.
“There’s trouble on a backwater planet known as Strontius Prime, the local rabble has incited a minor rebellion. It’s perfect for you lot. Air is toxic, mostly swampland across the main continent, you’ll feel right at home with all that scum.”
Corr smirked and pointed at the datapad.
“There any intel on that?” he asked. The commissar paused, taken somewhat by surprise by Corr’s question, before handing him the datapad.
“What’s my target?” he asked as he skimmed the planetary information.
“What we believe to be the rebel base of power, the governor’s mansion. It fell early on in the rebellion and seems a likely place to house the rebel leaders.
“Why not bomb it? Why send in us mud-sloggers?” he asked.
“They have surrounded the mansion with anti-air. The risk to the pilots is simply too great.”
“But the risk to me-”
“-Is perfectly acceptable.”
Corr sat in silence for a moment before sliding the slate back across the table.
“I’ll need a team.” The commissar looked skeptical. “It’ll improve chances for completing the mission.” The commissar thought on it for a moment, before nodding.
“You may take your current squad, but that is all. No further assistance, no equipment beyond your typical gear.” Corr’s jaw fell open.
“How do you expect me to blow up a mansion without an explosive?!” he asked, jabbing a finger at the dataslate. “You read the intel, that place is massive!”
“I have no doubt you’ll figure it out.” The commissar said as he stood. He nodded at the guards to took up position behind Corr. “Return him to his cell.” He ordered. “Select your team and discuss a plan, you have until we drop out of warp.” Corr was quickly grabbed by the arms and lifted bodily from his seat as the commissar quickly made his exit. Corr snarled and pulled his arms free and stepped into the corridor.
“Wait! What about the rest of the 66th?” he called. The commissar stopped and peered back over his shoulder.
“They will be providing the distraction for your insurgency. Don’t let their deaths be a complete waste.” The armsmen moved to grab Corr again, and he sighed.
“I can walk. I know the way.” He hissed. “Frakkin’ fools…” He shrugged his arms free and muttered under his breath all the way back to the hold.

Several days later…
The hanger of the Fortune’s Favored was a network of walled in narrows, designed to funnel the Chem-Dogs to drop ships and allow the armsmen on the pathways above to maintain control and authority. Weapons wouldn’t be unlocked until the troops were safely on the ground and pointed at the enemy.
Hundreds of soldiers all talking about their deployment, taunting an unknown enemy, threatening the guards, etc.; the noise was nearly deafening. So much so that it was unnoticed when Corr’s team was pulled aside and lead under armed escort down a separate corridor. The emerged at boarding ramp of a Valkyrie. The commissar stood at the foot of the ramp, hands clasped behind his back.
“Reporting as ordered.” Corr said. He didn’t salute, and the commissar didn’t seem to care. He looked over the team with a practiced eye and then produced a datapad and scanned it momentarily.
“When I call your name, step forward.” he said. “Briggs, Risha. Corporal.” Briggs stepped forward, managing to look both bored and annoyed at the same time. “Sentenced to Savlar for insubordination, assaulting a commanding officer and theft. Step into the Valkyrie.” Briggs ascended the ramp and disappeared into the ship without a word.
“Stakely, Dekko. Guardsman.” Stakely shuffled forward a step, clearly more interested in whatever he was digging out of his ear than in anything the commissar had to say. “Sentenced to Savlar for looting and the violent murder of a civilian. Board the ship.”
“Sure sure.” Stakely said with a non-committal shrug. “Stayin’ safe was boring anyway.”
“Mason, Clyde. Guardsman. Sentenced to Savlar for murder and kidnapping.” Mason frowned.
“There’s an explanation for tha-”
“Shut up and board the Valkyrie, trooper.” The commissar said. Mason sighed and climbed the ramp without another word.
“Callahan, Wren. Guardsman.” Callahan stepped forward and smiled broadly.
“Call me Cally, sir.” The commissar looked at Callahan, sneered and then returned his eyes to his pad.
“Sentenced to Savlar for murder, assaulting a commanding officer and theft.”
“Uh, ya forgot selling stolen goods and attempting to bribe a commanding officer.” Callahan added, leaning forward to peer at the commissar’s datapad. The commissar took a step back and jerked his head in the direction of the gunship.
“Just. Board. The ship.” He hissed. Callahan shrugged and hustled aboard the Valkyrie as the commissar turned his attention to Corr.
“Four days, Sergeant. By then the rest of the force will reach the palace. If it is not rubble by then, the rest of the 66th will be thrown at it, wave after wave, until it is.” He said.
“Right, no pressure.” Corr muttered, stepping past the commissar and climbing the boarding ramp. “Keep the porch light on. We’ll be back before you know it.”
“I assure you, I am positively a quiver.” The commissar muttered as the ramp shut.

The Valkyrie dropped low, screaming over the gnarled husks that Strontius Prime called trees. Corr sat back in his seat, eyes shut, head bobbing side to side as the Valkyrie searched for viable drop site to offload its cargo of dangerous scum.
“I hate you, Sarge! Volunteering me for this frakkin’ suicide mission!” Stakely hissed as he adjusted the straps on his rebreather and took a few testing breaths. Corr smirked and opened his eye a crack to stare at the man.
“Volunteered? You must be mistaken. I ordered you.” He said. Stakely respond with a sneer and an obscene gesture that only someone from his homeworld would be offended by. Corr ignored it.
“So tell me again, why the hell are we here?” Callahan said. He leaned forward, snorted and spat a gobbet of yellow phlegm on the floor grate.
“Weren’t you listening? This mud ball has a little traitor problem. We’re being sent in to burn the house down so the roaches can’t have it.” Briggs said calmly. Stakely flashed his broken smile.
“Ooh, I do like a little bonfire.” He said. “Maybe this won’t be so bad.”
Briggs shook her head and pulled her goggles over her eyes.
Suddenly the lights in the cabin turned a dirty yellow in color.
“Masks on kids. Strontius has air worse than Stakely’s breath.” Corr said as he pulled all the straps tight on his mask. The four thick hoses ran over his shoulders on both sides and he shrugged his shoulders to get them to settle in a somewhat more comfortable position. Stale air pumped in and he took a couple of deep breaths to test the rig.
“Man! Dig that fresh air!” Mason called through the vox bead.
“God-Emperor, I hate you...” Briggs mumbled.
“Everyone got their breathers on?” Corr called. A short chorus of affirmatives met his question as the Valkyrie shuddered violently as it suddenly dropped in speed and banked hard.
“This is your captain speaking. We’ve found a nice piece of swamp-adjacent real estate to drop you in. Tuck and roll folks.” The pilot called over their vox feed. The boarding ramp hissed open and dust and fetid air flooded in as the Valkyrie slowed to hover over the swamp. There was a loud grating noise as the sealed crate containing most of their gear slid down the ramp and splashed into the swamp.
“Move it!” Corr slapped his restraint release and sprinted down the ramp. He leapt off the edge of the ramp and dropped twenty feet into muddy water and quickly disappeared beneath its surface. Briggs and Mason quickly followed, but Stakely stopped and peered over the edge.
“Ah man. I got a bad feeling about this.” he muttered. Callahan clapped a hand onto his back.
“Choice is this or Savlar, man.” he said before stepping off the edge. Stakely swore under his breath before he banged his hand hard against the bulkhead and jumped off the ramp as it began to close.

Extricating themselves from the thick mud proved to be more difficult than Corr would’ve liked. The brackish crud nearly swallowed their gear.
“We missing anything?” Corr asked as he wiped mud from his breather.
“Think I’m missin’ a canister of promethium.” Mason said as he hoisted his heavy flamer from the case and dug muck out of the igniter with a finger. The sealed case proved to be not so sealed when it’s dropped onto a rock hidden beneath the brackish waves. Briggs sat on the shore, grumbling and cleaning her sniper rifle like a mad woman.
“Aren’t those things rated for air drop?” she hissed as she peered through her scope before cleaning the lenses for a third time. Stakely slung his lasgun over one shoulder and looked around.
“Which way we supposed to go? This all looks the same?” he said, gesturing at the swampland. Corr stood and tucked his laspistol into his holster as he moved to stand next to Stakely.
“Intel says it should be two days trek to the north.” Corr said, gesturing to an unremarkable stretch of swampland. Once we reach the palace, we’ll need to sneak past the defenses and locate the munitions depot. Gotta be somethin’ there that’ll bring the house down.”
“I love it when the plans all fall into place.” Callahan said as he adjusted his breather straps.
“Briggs. You memorize the map like I asked?” Corr said, looking over his shoulder at the woman.
“Nah, too much work. I lifted it before we deployed.” She said, fishing a hand into her thigh pocket. After a moment she pulled out a folded up map and handed it over before returning to cleaning her rifle.
“Atta girl.” Corr said, taking the map and unfolding it to peer at it. “Now look. We’re here.” He said, jabbing his finger onto the map. He slowly dragged it across it, stopping at the top of the map. “And here’s the objective. Now here, right in the middle is an old settlement. We should be able to rest there. We can probably make it there in just under eight hours.”
“What if it’s not friendly.” Mason asked. Corr smirked and pat his laspistol.
“The settlement should be abandoned. But if it’s not, we’ll have to make it that way. Pack your things. We have a long hike. And I’d like to find some shelter before we need to change tanks.”

“I don’t think we can empty this one out, Sarge.” Mason whispered. Corr was inclined to agree. The settlement was overrun. The Stronius PDF had set up a substantial outpost in the settlement, and been so good as to man it quite heavily. Troops were busy setting up tents, sealing up the old buildings and pumping clean air into the few that were already in stable condition. A hastily built guard tower stood near the center of town and a small team of scouts peered out over the landscape with a poorly trained eye.
“I count at least ninety…” Corr muttered.
“Getting about the same count here.” Briggs voxed.
“Love to know what the plan is now, Sarge.” Stakely hissed.
“It’s the same plan. We rest here, move on at day break.” Corr said, rolling his eyes.
“Uhh… seems a bit crowded, don’t ya think?” Callahan voxed.
“Maybe we should’ve made reservations at a nice inn instead?” Mason snorted, barely able to finish his own joke.
“Mason… I hate you…” Briggs said.
“Cut the chatter and regroup. I have a plan.” Corr cut in.
“He’s got a plan. I’m just… filled with renewed optimism…” Stakely said.

Trooper Abec Carn was sweating. It was hot. The swamps always were. But this was something different. This was the first time, to his knowledge, that the Strontius PDF had been mustered for anything other than a simple parade. But the Governor had called them up to defend their home against an enemy massing at the fringe of their continent. Carn had seen the vids. They looked like barely leashed hounds, and it wasn’t too far of a stretch for Carn to imagine them frothing at the mouth. It made him nervous. He looked out at the swampland, doing his best not to think about the mindless beasts that were landing on his planet.
“Carn!”
Carn jumped up from where he was sitting, his train of thought broken by a shout. He looked around until his eyes found Beck. He took a deep breath and willed his heart rate to drop back to normal.
“S-sorry. I was… thinking.” He muttered. Beck shrugged and adjusted his breather.
“I’m going to make my patrol. Hold down the fort. Wake the other’s if you need anything.” Beck said as he plucked up his lasgun.
“Y-yeah. No problem.” Carn said with a wave as he watched Beck disappear into the night. Carn turned his attention back to the swamps that surrounded them. He could see the Lantern Flies as they fluttered lazily in the night air. He could hear the croak of the Tox-Frogs that wallowed in the mud hunting the Lantern Flies. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. His home was eerily beautiful at times. He heard the hab-tent rustle as someone opened the flap and stepped out into the night air. He twisted slightly and looked the man up and down as whoever it was adjusted their uniform.
“Quite a night, ain’t it?” the man said as he stepped over to Carn.
Carn sighed and smiled beneath his rebreather, returning his gaze to the landscape.
“Sure is.”
“Ya know this place well?”
Carn shrugged.
“Not really, I’m from a farm town up near the capital.”
“Farm boy huh? You lie. Yer too scrawny.”
“It’s the truth!” Carn said, suddenly feeling like his honor had been insulted. “My family has been farming Malta Nuts for three generations. I know Strontius plants like the back of my hand.”
“Oh yeah? Prove it.” The man said. He looked side to side and then pointed out to Carn’s left. “What’s that one over there?” Carn turned his head a bit and peered into the inky blackness.
“Which one?” he asked as the man loomed over him.

Jorin Beck was aching for a smoke. He needed his lho fix, but he wasn’t too keen on peeling off his mask for a few puffs of his narcotic of choice when the air would kill him faster. Maybe he could sneak one when he got back to the tent. Carn wouldn’t mind, and the others should be asleep.
He looked up, seeing the slender form of Carn still sitting where he’d left him a minute ago. Beck sighed and set his lasgun against a gnarled stump and arched backward.
“I’m back. Did I miss anything?”
Carn turned slowly and shook his head.
“Nah, nothin’.” He said before turning back towards the swamp.
“Figured. Cover for me, I’m gonna duck inside and have a smoke.”
Carn raised a hand and nodded his head without word. Beck ducked inside the small airlock and shut the tent door behind him as he waited for the airlock to cycle. A small light flashed green and he peeled off his breather and stuck a lho-stick between his lips as he opened the inner door.
Three heads turned towards him from where they were gathered in the middle of the tent and Beck stopped.
“Oh, you’re all up. D’ya mind if I smoke?” he asked. It took him several seconds to realize everyone was in their breathers.
“What’s… what’s going on?” Beck asked
“I think we’ve been made, Sarge.” One of them said.
“You think?” replied another.
Beck’s eyes widened. He dropped his lho-stick and reached for his lasgun only to find that it was still resting outside. Two arms wrapped around him from behind, one arm around his chest, the other tightly around his neck. He gasped and craned his neck to look over his shoulder.
“Carn!? What are you-” he managed to choke out.
“Carn’s sleeping. Just relax and soon all will be well. Promise.” Beck’s struggles weakened as his airway was constricted little by little until his world went black.

Corr sighed as the bodies of the PDF were arrayed on their bedrolls as casually as possible. Most of them were kids. Freshly drafted to defend their cesspool of a home from whatever the galaxy deigned to throw their way. They were woefully unprepared. And now they were statistics. Stakely, Briggs and Callahan rifled through the pockets of each body in turn, pocketing anything they wanted or felt they could trade aboard the Fortune. Mason knelt by each one in turn, and carefully whispered a prayer for the Emperor to guide them. Corr, was busy fussing at the pilfered PDF uniform he wore. It was still crisp, almost like it had never been worn. New gear was almost non-existent in the Chem-Dogs, everything was salvaged, stolen or just not wanted anywhere else, including the soldiers. The fact that the uniforms would help them blend in among the others was merely a bonus.
“Ooh, nice knife. Hope ya don’t mind if I take it.” Stakely whispered to one of bodies, patting it on the chest as he fastened the knife to his belt. Meanwhile, Callahan had found himself a new pair of boots in his size and promptly replaced his old pair.
“I never had a pair of boots this nice.” he said as he pulled the laces tight.
“Make yourselves comfy. We got five hours until daylight, which means we need to be ghosts in four.” Corr said once the looting had died down. He took a seat next to the hab tent’s airlock and sighed.
“You got first watch, Sarge?” Mason asked as he stood from the final body, making the sign of the Aquila across his chest as he finished his prayer.
“Yeah.” he said. “I’ll wake you in two hours, Mason. Then I’ll get some sleep.” Mason nodded groggily and sprawled on the floor between the cots. Corr looked around and saw the others all bedding down amongst the dead. Corr watched them for several long minutes before his eyes drifted shut and sleep took hold of him as well.

The sound of heavy boots echoed down the corridor.
It was happening again.
He knew what was coming, but there was nothing he could do.
Something heavy crashed against the door shaking the entire frame.
Again, and again.
Harder, and harder.
Until, with a final boom, the door fell inward and a cadre of instructors pushed into the room.
“Trooper Corr! What’ve you done?!”
Corr looked up from the body he clutched in his hands at the Progenia instructors that surrounded him.
He hadn’t slept.
How could he after what he’d done.
He slowly looked back down at the young woman in his arms.
She’d been a comrade… a lover… and now?
“I did what had to be done, sir.” He said.
His eyes began stinging as tears worked their way free.
He lightly caressed her cheek.
Suddenly her eyes shot open.
“Why Serevin? Why did you let me die?” she rasped.
Corr opened his mouth to speak, but the shrill blaring of a horn drowned out all but her accusing eyes and the blood trailing from her cut throat.

Corr’s eyes shot open at the sound of a horn blowing. It was a shrill sound and his hands quickly covered his ears. Callahan and Briggs were instantly awake as well, covering their own ears and looking to Corr.
“What the hell is that?!” Stakely shouted.
“It’s our wakeup call! Get up! Get up now!” Corr said as he scrambled to his feet. He stopped and looked over to Mason who was still fast asleep. He pointed to Briggs and then to Mason. “Wake him!” he said as he stepped into the airlock. He pulled the door shut and replaced his mask while it cycled. The door chimed, and before Corr could reach for the handle it opened and a figure in a PDF officer’s uniform stopped just shy of barreling into him.
“Wha-” he managed to croak before Corr grabbed him by the throat. His thumb and fingers dug firmly into the soft flesh and he pulled the man into the airlock and shut the door with his free hand. He didn’t wait for the airlock to fully cycle this time, he threw open the inner door and dropped the man on the floor.
“We’ve got a problem.” He said, shutting the door behind him. The officer coughed and started to push himself to his feet but Stakely was on him at a moment’s notice. He pressed his knee into the man’s back, forcing him back to the floor.
“Hullo there.” He said, as he pulled his new knife from the sheath on his belt. “You picked the wrong tent, pal. This one’s full up.” He grabbed the man by his hair and pulled his head back hard and pressed the blade against the man’s exposed throat. The man squealed as the blade nicked his throat, a bead of blood dribbling down into his uniform.
“What’s happening? Who are you people?” he asked, panic evident in his voice.
“We’re nobody.” Briggs said, staring down at the man.
“Who are you?” Mason asked with a yawn.
“S…Sergeant Emil Nelis… Strontius PDF. Who a-”
“What’s your unit doing out in the swamp?” Corr asked. His eyes were wide with panic and darted between the people he didn’t know, before they fell upon the dead in their bunks.
“Oh… Oh God-Emperor…” he cried, peeling his eyes away from the dead. “Y-you killed them…”
“Focus pal, or we kill you slower.” Stakely said, pressing the knife against his throat just a little harder.
“W-we were deployed by the Governor. Told a large pirate band had landed at the far end of the continent. Most of the PDF is d-deployed to stop them. Small garrisons were set up around the palace to protect the governor.” Briggs sighed, disgusted without how easily this man had spilled their orders.
“What? Pirates? That’s insulting!” Cally said with a smirk as he looked fondly at his new boots. Corr glared and Cally, who shrugged back at him.
“Shut up.” Corr said, before returning his attention to their captive. “What’s the contingent at the Governor’s mansion? How many men? What kind of materiel?”
“I… I can’t… I can’t betray my p-people and my Emperor.” He sputtered. Stakely nicked him again with the knife, drawing another rivulet of blood and a whimper of pain and fear.
“Oh you can, and you will!” Stakely hissed in his ear.
Suddenly there was a banging at the airlock.
“Sergeant Nelis, sir? The senior officers are gathered for this morning’s briefing.” A voice called through the intercom. Stakely’s hand clamped down over the man’s mouth and everybody tensed.
“We haven’t the time for this. Take his vox, his weapons, and tie his hands. We found ourselves a guide.” Corr whispered.
“We should slot him now, Corr. He’ll give us away.” Stakely hissed.
“Orders?” Mason asked, hefting his flamer. Corr pulled Nelis’s vox bead from his ear and crushed it under foot as Stakely grudgingly tied his arms behind his back and took his laspistol, tucking it into his belt.
“We need an exit.” Corr said.
“On it.” Callahan said. He hopped over a cot and drew his knife in one smooth motion. “Masks on kids.” He said as he lifted his own over his mouth and nose. Without waiting, he stabbed into the skin of the tent and pushed down, opening the back of the tent to the harsh atmosphere. He pulled open the flap just enough to peer around. A muddy, empty street met his gaze. The buildings across the street were old, decrepit and, despite the sudden garrison of PDF, still clearly abandoned. At least if the broken out glass windows were any sort of clue. Nestled between them was an alley that now appeared to be the garrison’s garbage dump. Cally pulled open the tent and pointed.
“There’s our exit.”
“Gee dad, it’s such a nice day. Let’s go play outside.” Mason said as he ducked through the hole.
“Mason… I swear...” Briggs hissed as she followed. Stakely quickly shoved their captive outside, laughing as he lost his balance and landed face first in the muck and grime.
“Maybe having him along won’t be all bad.” He said, stopping to admire his handiwork. Cally rolled his eyes and gave him a shove through the opening.
“Move it!” he hissed. Corr lingered a moment longer. He moved to the intercom and pressed the response button.
“Hang on hang on, I just gotta- GRENADE! GRENADE!” he shouted as he pulled a grenade from his belt. He took off at a run for the opening and pulled the pin, dropping the grenade in the middle of the tent as he passed by. It was a standard frag on a five second timer.
One one-thousand.
Two one-thousand.
Thr-
The grenade exploded early, and a pressure wave hit Corr just as he made his dive for the makeshift exit. The tent shredded and caught fire as Corr landed hard in the mud a full six feet further than intended. His ears were ringing and his calf burned. Over the din he could make out a klaxon blaring and panicked shouts. He pushed himself up to his feet, wincing as pain shot up his right leg. He hobbled the last few feet into the alley and disappeared amongst the warrens of detritus.

“You shoulda seen it boss! You were as graceful as an ork when you went headfirst into the mud.” Mason said with a chuckle. He slammed one hand into the other and blew a raspberry when they connected before he had himself a small laughing fit.
They sat in the wreck of a building that Cally had spotted when they’d made their escape. It was easy to see why the building wasn’t in use by the PDF. The walls were rotted, all the pressure seals had corroded into nothing, the windows had broken and at some point a six inch deep layer of mud and God-Emperor knows what else had seeped up through the cracked floor.
Corr rolled his eyes and winced as Briggs poked at his calf.
“Shut up, Mason.” He hissed as Briggs drew a metal sliver the length of her finger from the meat of his calf.
“I’m no medic, but this probably doesn’t belong there.” She said, holding up the shrapnel to look it over.
“We can’t sit still. We gotta get gone.” Corr said as he tore off his sleeve and wrapped it tightly around his calf. He glared at their prisoner. “What the quickest route to the capital?”
“I can’t. I w-won’t betray my governor to pirate scum like you.” He stammered. Stakely stood behind him, knife in hand, almost visibly begging to cut the man’s throat and let him bleed out.
“Yes you will.” Corr said as he stood up, testing his weight on his leg and finding it tolerable. He trudged over to Nelis and grabbed him by his flak armor to pull him close. “You’ll tell me whatever I want to know. Or I will break every bone in your body in ways they won’t heal. And I will do it slowly, a single bone at a time, until I no longer find it amusing.”
Nelis blanched; his skin unhealthy and pallid beneath his breather.
“No, I take that back. I won’t stop until Stakely no longer finds it amusing.” Stakely let out a harsh laugh and their prisoner began to tremble. He jerked his head to the right and looked down at the filthy muck around his boots.
“If… if you cut straight through the swamp you’ll get there quicker than if you take any of the roads.” He said shamefully. “Don’t let that psycho near me.”
“Good man.” Corr said, letting him go. “We need to move. The whole garrison is on alert and we-”
“Shh!” Briggs snapped, her rifle coming up in an instant. Everyone dropped low and hid in the shadows. Stakley grabbed their guide and pressed his knife to his neck before forcing him down to the ground, his face in the mud.
“Not a peep.” He whispered.
After a long moment a group of ten PDF troopers came cutting through alley outside, rifles in hand. Corr laid still, hand on his pistol, as the troopers marched through. It wasn’t long before they’d passed and Corr tentatively poked his head up.
“We need to be gone. Now.” He said as he climbed out of the filth. As if to punctuate his words there came a loud boom from above that lingered for long moments.
“What the frak?” Cally asked, looking up at the sky from a grimy broken-out window.
“It’s… it’s gonna storm.” Nelis said.
“Is that bad?” Mason asked. Nelis shrugged.
“Not if you really like water. It’ll rain for weeks straight in this area. It’s why this settlement was abandoned; they couldn’t deal with the flood waters.”
As if on cue, fat droplets began to fall from the sky.
“The bad weather will help cover our tracks. But we need to move.” Corr said, as he slung his lasgun. They quickly and quietly left their temporary lodgings and made their way into the swamp at a quick pace, dragging along their guest.

Nelis hadn’t been lying. It had been raining for three solid hours and showed no signs of letting up. Traversing the swamp was getting more dangerous by the minute as what was once a thick mud was now a soupy mess. Twice now Mason had managed to disappear beneath the brackish mire only to reemerge several meters away, swearing up a storm and thrashing like an injured fish. It soon became clear to stay next to the gnarled trees, as their roots formed a decent footing. Well, at least somewhat decent.
Corr despised this planet already. He was soaked. He completely regretted tearing off his sleeve to bind his injured calf, which was probably garnering a horrid infection from spending the last two hours submerged in the swamp on a toxic world.
“I have a sneaking suspicion I’m going to lose my leg.” Corr muttered into the vox. He grabbed a nearby branch and hauled himself out of the muck for a moment and looked back at his calf.
“Think of the shiny new prosthetic you’ll get if you don’t die, Sarge!” Stakely said, barely able to control his laugh.
“Right… ‘shiny’ and ‘new’ describes all our equipment.” Mason chortled. Stakely rolled his eyes.
“Awright, awright. So he gets a crap one. He can always steal something better.” Callahan said as he climbed up one of the twisted trees and leaned back against the branches, looking around for a sign of civilization.
“Somehow… all this is still not comforting.” Corr hissed.
“Bloody pirate scum…”
“Already told you, Nelis. We aren’t pirates. We’re Imperial Guard.” Briggs said as she grabbed a branch and pulled herself through the mire. Nelis nodded his head.
“Oh yes. I’m sure. Imperial Guard, sent to stop us awful rebels.” He struggled through the swamp as he spoke, very nearly falling several times.
“Sarge, should we untie him?” Mason asked. “He’d be able to keep up better.”
“He’d also be able to run off better.” Briggs hissed.
“No, he stays tied for now. We can’t have him warning anyone we’re here. We have a time table to meet.” Corr said as he grabbed Nelis by the collar and hauled him out of the muck. “Tell me that we’re getting close.”
Nelis looked around briefly and then nodded to his right.
“The road… it should be about a kilometer in that direction as it circles back towards the capital. The Governor’s mansion is in the middle of the capital.” He then jerked his head in the direction they’d been heading. “If not for the storm we’d probably be seeing the mansion towers already.”
“Surrounded by twenty thousand of the finest PDF troopers this mudball has…” Callahan said with a chuckle.
“No.” Nelis said, “One hundred thousand.”
Corr felt a nagging sense of doubt as it began to claw at the fringes of his mind. Five Chem-Dogs against one hundred thousand planetary defense troopers.
“Well…” Mason muttered, “Least we won’t be lonesome.”

It was another hour of slogging through the mud before they came to anything resembling civilization. It started as a brick path that rose up out of the mire. Then it was a brick path that sprouted poorly maintained huts. The group froze as they took in a skyway some kilometer up, that the slums had cropped up underneath, rising up the support struts towards like lichen growing up the trunk of a tree.
“Home, sweet home.” Nelis said. Corr looked at him, expecting a look of disgust or contempt for their surroundings, but found none. He gripped the man’s uniform and pulled him aside between two of the huts, pulled out his combat knife, and pointed it at his throat as the rest of the team came closer.
“Now you listen. I’m gonna cut your binds. You stay with us, and you stay quiet. If you break our cover, I will end you before they take me down. Understand?” Nelis’s eyes were locked on the knife, but he managed a weak nod. Corr sighed and sliced clean through Nelis’s binds. He shook out his hands and rubbed at his wrists. “Which way do we go if we need to remain hidden?”
“Well… if we stay here you’ll be safe. The arbitrators are almost never down here, let alone the PDF. But, since you need to get to the mansion, we’ll have to cut through the city. And… well… we look like deserters.” Nelis answered, gesturing at the state of their pilfered uniforms. The thick, dark mud still clung to the fabric, despite the deluge of rain that fell from the sky. Mason frowned and wiped at the mud that covered him from head to toe nervously.
“Not my fault… Briggs splashed me.” He muttered. Briggs lowered her head into the palm of her hand and muttered angrily to herself.
“I’m going to kill him, Serevin. I swear it.”
“Right, so we just need to clean up a bit, make ourselves presentable to the Governor, and then blow up his house. I like this plan.” Stakely said as he peered through the window of one of the huts.
“It… it won’t be that simple. He’s barricaded himself in the mansion with his palatial guard. The PDF are the first line of defense, the fortifications the second, and the palatial guard the last.” Nelis added.
“He seems awfully paranoid considering he shouldn’t know we’re coming for him in particular.” Briggs said.
“That’s… well… now that you mention it, he started this about a year ago.” Nelis said quietly. “He… he called an emergency conference with his advisors and the PDF generals. It was shortly thereafter that we were mobilized. We started building fortifications around his mansion and the main city thoroughfares. Then he ordered organized patrols to the abandoned settlements. And then he set up temporary outposts in those abandoned settlements.”
“Like where we found you?” Callahan said. Nelis nodded.
“Something is off. We only got our orders a couple weeks ago.” Corr said. He leaned against the hut for a moment and looked down at the mud in thought. “We were told that there was a munitions stockpile on the mansion grounds. Where is it?”
“Uhh… there’s a bunker at the rear of his estate. He and the Generals had all major ammunition and equipment for the PDF in the city moved there. But that bunker is older than the city and it’s virtually impenetrable.” Nelis muttered.
“We need those munitions. So we’ll need a way inside.” Stakely said as he toyed with his combat knife.
“Impossible. It’d take days of Earthshaker bombardment to get through it.” Corr looked up. Even with a breather obscuring his face, it was clear that he was grinning.
“Then we’ll just have to find someone with the keys, won’t we?”

“There’s our man.” Nelis muttered with a nod of his head. Down the rain-washed street stood a rotund man in the livery of a Colonel, barking orders at a group of PDF troopers that looked like they desperately wanted to be anywhere but standing in the rain being screamed at. Corr’s group stood under a shop’s meager awning, watching as the colonel continued to berate the troopers.
“You know him?” Corr asked.
“Only be reputation. Name’s Colonel Davric. Bit of an ass from all the talk I’ve heard. Once had a trooper drummed up on charges for spilling recaff on him. The trooper was flogged and then incarcerated. I think he’s still in the brig.” Nelis said.
Briggs scowled.
“Let’s just shoot him and collect the key off his corpse.” She hissed.
“We can’t. He is the key. Need his DNA, his voice and a retina scan.” Nelis said, digging the toe of his boot into the mud. Corr sighed. Of course it couldn’t be easy. For the briefest of moments Corr debated pulling off his mask and breathing deeply of the world’s toxic air. That would solve his problems quick, fast and in a hurry.
“Okay. Suggestions?” he asked, looking at his haggard squad.
“One tag-along is enough.” Stakely muttered. “Though I ‘spose I could gut this one and pick up the new one.” Corr simply shook his head and Stakely’s shoulders fell. Nelis, however, seemed quite pleased with Corr’s decision.
“What if we just tell him we’re under order to get into the munitions supply?” Mason mumbled. Nelis shook his head.
“Only the Generals have that kind of authority, and we don’t have the proper paperwork to show him.”
The group fell silent again as everyone mulled over various ideas in their heads.
“Oh, to hell with it.” Briggs mumbled. Before Corr could ask, her long-las was shoved into his arms. “Hold this. Don’t let, Cally touch it.” She hissed as she peeled off her helmet and shook out her shoulder length brown hair. Corr’s eyebrows rose steadily as she jogged away from the group.
“Uhhh… what’s Briggs doin’?” Mason mumbled.
“I haven’t the slightest clue.” Callahan said.

Colonel Davric puffed out his chest, doing his best to make himself seem imposing.
“Trooper! Why are you out of uniform?!” he bellowed. The PDF trooper looked down at his uniform.
“S-sir?” he said, looking back up at the Colonel. “I-I don’t-”
“You are a disgrace to the Strontius PDF, trooper! Your uniform is a spectacular mess! Straighten your shirt and shine those boots before I have you publicly flogged!”
“B-but Colonel, sir. I’m on guard duty in the rain, sir.” Davric’s eyes widened.
“Are you arguing with a superior officer, trooper?!” he barked.
“N-no sir!” the trooper stammered.
“Do you want to be executed for disregarding orders?!”
“N-no sir!”
“Colonel Davric, sir?”
Davric rounded, ready to tear into whatever poor soul had interrupted his rant, but stopped short. Before him stood a short and shapely woman who seemed to fill out the PDF uniform rather nicely, even if she was completely doused in mud.
“Y-yes , trooper. What is it?” he said, his demeanor completely flipped from two seconds ago.
“Colonel Davric, sir. I… um…” the young woman paused. She held out a hand and gestured for the Colonel to come close with her index finger. Davric’s face turned the faintest shade of red and he cleared his throat as he moved closer to the trooper.
“Yes?” he said quietly.
“Colonel Davic, sir. I was out on patrol, and I fell into the mud and… and I can’t find my rifle. I dug around for a full hour, sir and its just g-gone. I’m s-so sorry, sir.” the girl sniffled, tears welling up in her eyes. Davric’s harsh features softened and he looked over his shoulder at the other troopers still standing at attention. After a moment he cleared his throat and returned his attention to the girl.
“Right, yes. Dry your eyes. We’ll go get you another from the depot.” He said quietly to the girl. The young woman sniffled and wiped her eyes with muddy fingers. Davric reached into his pocket and retrieved a stark white handkerchief and handed it to her. He then rounded on the spot and glared at the PDF troopers.
“Troopers! Remain on station! I will be back shortly! And if you haven’t straightened up your act by then I’ll throw the lot of you in the brig myself!” The troopers straightened and saluted the Colonel as he trudged off, the woman in tow. As they marched down the muddy street Briggs looked over to Corr and the others and waved them to follow. Corr stared in silence as the pair moved down the street.
“Uhh… what did I just see?” he asked. Stakely and Callahan shrugged, too transfixed by the scene to comment. Mason on the other hand smiled wide as he nudged Nelis.
“That right there, was grade ‘A’ actin’.” He said as he began to follow Briggs and Colonel.