Love and Krieg

Trenches aren't like hive tunnels he mused, running a hand along the earthen wall in front of him. Oh sure the smell isn't that far off, and you're ankle deep in scum either way, but trenches were really nothing like hive tunnels no matter what corporal Haanrath said.

Inside of a hive it was warm, and when the air moved in the tunnels you knew what it meant. It was cold here in the trenches, with the open sky over your head and the wind thrashing every which way like an addict who'd gotten a bad dose.

His thoughts were interrupted by a shout “Sir! Sergeant Brinkerhoff Sir, the lieutenant wants to speak with you”

Rochus looked up from his contemplation to see Trooper Kranz stopping and coming to attention. Piet Kranz was the newest man in the squad, though he had been soldiering as long as any of them. He'd been a part of the Batavi 86th infantry regiment before it got cannibalized to make up for casualties and he'd been reassigned to the 602nd.

He was a tall man, and a hard man. The other men respected him, but he was not one of them and they all knew it. Usually that just meant that when the rest of them were laughing about some shared joke he was off on the sidelines, unable to appreciate the humor without a point of reference. Sometimes though, it meant the men would nominate him for jobs the rest of them didn't want. Like running a message.

It was a bit of a problem. Kranz resented it, and Rochus didn't blame him for that. He would have resented it as well, but there wasn't much to be done. It's not like he could just tell the rest of them to lay off, that'd just make things worse. Only thing for it was to wait until they'd been in a few firefights and the unit gelled a bit.

“Thank you Kranz, you are dismissed.” He said as he stood up and started towards the platoons command bunker, and then more to himself than anything “Well, lets go see what this is about then”
It was a bit of a walk back to command. The sergeant has wandered into a section of trench manned by the Death Korps 208th, as was his wont to do when he wished to be alone. It was impossible to truly be alone in the crowded confines of the trenches, but being surrounded by the silent son's of Krieg was the next best thing.

Whereas the trenches manned by his regiment would have buzzed with the low hum of conversation, punctuated by laughter, this section of trench was almost silent. The only noise was the hiss of respirators and his feet squishing through the mud. The guardsmen here didn't call out greetings as he passed or try to socialize. At most he'd get a watch-master inquiring as to his purpose and then be left alone.

It had been disconcerting at first, when they had made planet fall and met their new allies three months prior. On Trieste when they had met Guardsmen from different planets, or even different regiments from Batavi, there had been “friendly” competition. Contests of strength, seeing who could drink the most amasec, bragging back and forth as they told exaggerated stories about their prowess, that sort of thing. That hadn't happened here.
The Kriegers would speak, if spoken to, but their answers were terse and to the point. They did not initiate conversation unless it was for a specific purpose, such as delivering a message. Attempts to engage them in friendly competitions had been meet by either silent staring, or quotations of regulations from the primer, depending on the nature of the invitation.

Some of the men speculated that they may all be servitors. That if they pulled back their ubiquitous gas masks they'd find graying flesh and steel augmentations. Whatever the reason, no one could deny that the silent faceless masses of the Death Korps were eerie. It hadn't been long before attempts to socialize stopped, and the Batavi men kept to their own trenches. So far as he knew sergeant Brinkerhoff was one of the few men who interacted with them, if sitting in the same trench ignoring each other could be called interaction.

As he crossed over the invisible line into Batavi territory and approached his destination he wondered if this meant they had orders, or if one of his boys had gotten caught doing something stupid. Probably both. After covering the last hundred meters or so he turned into the hole in the trench wall that lead to the platoons command bunker. 'pretty grand title for a hole in the wall' he thought to himself as he ducked through the entrance in to the confined space. He smiled. It was poorly lit, dirty, and the ceiling seemed to press down on him when he straightened up and his hair brushed across it's surface. Felt like home.

Lieutenant Adrianus Goossens was waiting for him behind his desk. Poster boy for the Imperial Guard Goossens was not. He was short, hunched over, his uniform was stained, and he had been horribly scarred when half of his face was torn off by a maniac with a chainaxe. He was most definitely not the sort of officer young boys pictured following into battle on behalf of the Emperor, but his men loved him. He cared.

Coming to attention Sergeant Brinkerhoff snapped a salute “Sir, reporting as ordered Sir” he said. The lieutenant stood and returned it, before gesturing for the sergeant to take a seat.

“Alpha's got new orders Brinkerhoff” He rumbled “ Need you get get your men ready, the company is being pulled out and sent back to the depot for reassignment.”
“Understood sir.” Brinkerhoff said, and then paused for a moment before asking “Sir, any idea what command has planned?”

“I don't know Rochus” He replied shaking his head“The captain is keeping his lips sealed tight. You'll find out at the same time I do. Dismissed Sergeant”

“Thank you sir.” he said before rising to leave. As he exited the bunker he passed by Sergeant Teunissen, who nodded to him as he ducked in.

His squad's quarters wasn't too much farther past the command bunker. Trooper Ramaaker was sitting outside the entrance with a lho-stick hanging from between his lips. To the outsider it would appear as if he had stepped out to light up, but Rochus knew it was just his turn on sentry duty. The men took turns keeping an eye out for the Commissar.

As he drew closer he began to hear faint music emanating from the mouth of the tunnel that lead to the dugout that served as his squads quarters. He recognized the tune. Mulder was playing that music again. Ramaaker straightened up as he drew closer and saluted as he passed. He could hear the soft soprano singing about her lover gone to fight for the emperor clearly now, and over the sound of the music two men having the same old tired argument.

“Turn that tripe off Mulder”

“Go sit on a chainsword and spin mate, the music stays”

Inside the men were lounging about. Haanrath and Eikenbern where laying in their cots, and the rest of the squad was sitting in a circle around a small wooden table playing cards and drinking rotgut from Pender's still.

“Worst thing that ever happened to us, you finding those recordings” Quirion Otten said as he stared at Mulder over the top of his cards

“Worse then clearing heretics out of Ravenna hive on Trieste one room at a time?” Mulder snorted before taking a pull from his drink.

“At least I was allowed to shoot them” Quirion replied.

As Mulder opened his mouth to reply Rochus cut him off by clearing his throat and announcing his presence. He really didn't care to hear the same old tired back and forth and they hadn't the time for it today anyway.

“Alright men, get everything stowed away.”

“Why? What is it sir, an inspection?” Pender asked as he moved towards his still and began hiding it.

“No Radboud, there isn't an inspection. We're being sent to the depot for reassignment. Get everything packed and get ready to move out.” Sergeant Brinkerhoff said.

As he finished speaking the rest of the men began to move. Mulder, the squads Vox operator, turned off the recording and began to make ready the communications equipment. The rest of the men gathered up their hell-guns and helped each other into their Carapace. Once they were kitted out they stowed away their personal effects into their rucks and pulled them onto their shoulders. It didn't take long before the squad was ready to move out.

It was about a seven kilometer slog through the trenches from the front back to the depot and regiment command. When Brinkerhoff's squad and the rest of Alpha company arrived they were quite content to doff their packs and start settling in. After dugouts in the side of a trench the sight of a real barracks was wonderful. Unfortunately before they could get too comfortable the captain arrived.

"Attention" called out the lieutenant as as the captain walked in the door, and the men snapped to.

"At ease" Captain Visser said, and the men relaxed. "The Colonel has asked that we attend a briefing in one hour. I expect each of you to be a shining example of the emperor's soldiery. Prepare accordingly. That is all, carry on" He announced to the room before leaving out the door."

In the captains wake men polished their boots and fussed over their gear as if there was an inspection. The hour passed quickly, and soon they were shuffling over to be briefed. They soon saw they were not alone.

As they walked into the briefing they were joined by skull masked Death Korps grenadiers.

“Something big is happening” murmured Trooper Gelen quietly “can't just be routine reassignment or the skull heads wouldn't be here”

“Quiet” Hissed Corporal Haanrath

Sergeant Brinkerhoff slipped in behind the Lieutenant, coming to attention as he took stock of the room. All of Alpha company was here on the left side, and on the right an equal number of the masked Krieg Korpsmen. At the head of the room behind a lectern stood Colonel Koning and his Krieg counterpart.

Before he had time to wonder why they had been assembled the Colonel spoke. "Gentlemen, I have been informed by Captain Quintus of the Imperial Navy that inbound Tau reinforcements have been detected, and are expected to arrive on planet within five days. It is imperative that we take their stronghold before they are given the chance to reinforce and resupply." He paused briefly before continuing wryly "Unfortunately, their fortress is sealed up tighter than a Sister's legs."

There was a polite round of laughter among the alpha company men at their superiors' joke, though the Skull masked Krieg Grenadiers made no sound. The laughter died off quickly, leaving only one or two men weakly chortling. It was awkward to laugh when half the soldiers in the room were standing there like statues. The Colonel cleared his throat, looking slightly abashed as he did so, signaling the end to the laughter.

"However, we have a plan" He said gesturing to the masked Colonel on his right hand side "The 208th Death Korps have been tunneling beneath the Tau encampment. In light of recent developments we've extended the shifts to speed up the process, and they are projected to break through to the surface in two days."

As he spoke he pulled up a display behind him of the Tau position and pointed to an area that had been outlined in red "According to high altitude scans made by the navy, is the location of their primary AAA battery. We will use the tunnel to insert a strike force inside their perimeter and destroy their anti air capabilities, at which point a combined assault by our air wing and mechanized units will pave the way for a decisive push by the infantry. which will be spearheaded by the 208th."

"Alpha company you, along with the 208th's First grenadier company, have been selected for the honor of preforming the initial strike through the tunnels."

They spent the night at the depot before descending into the tunnels in the morning. The Grenadiers lead the procession, and Alpha company following them into the pit. Sergeant Brinkerhoff found himself and his squad towards the front of the column of Batavi infantry, and consequently spent the march through the tunnels staring at the backs of the rearmost elements of the Grenadier company. In particular one soldier trailing behind the other Grenadiers caught his attention.

He was short and slight compared to the Batavi Troopers, but then, most of the Death Korps Troopers seemed to be. His equipment marked his as a Medicae. Slung over his shoulder was a medikit. On his left wrist was a scaled down Reductor. A Diagnosticator was built in to his mask over his left eye. In and of itself his appearance wasn't all that interesting. Rochus had seen Medicae before. Just because this one wore a skull mask didn't make him all that special. No, what made him interesting were the servitors that were following him.

Their hands had been refitted as surgical instruments and their eyes replaced with Diagnosticators like most medical servitors, but they had racks built into their backs. It was bizarre. He could think of no explanation for why a medical servitor would require built in storage racks. Adding to his confusion was the fact that they were empty. If they had held additional injectors or field sutures he could have understood, but they were completely empty. It niggled away at his brain as they marched until, when the stopped, he approached the Korpsman intent on learning the answer.

"Medicae-"

"Quartermaster Sir" The trooper interrupted.

The sudden interjection caught him flat footed, and he stared for a moment before asking "Quartermaster?"

"It is my designation Sir. Quartermaster Seven zero Nine attached to the Death Korps of Krieg 208th Infantry Regiment First Grenadier company Fourth squad. Quartermaster, not Medicae. Sir." He replied.

The sound of the Krieger's voice was muffled by their gas mask, so Rochus couldn't hear him very clearly. As best he could tell the voice was quite raspy, but it didn't sound very deep. Young, he sounded young, or perhaps just effeminate. Hard to tell really.

"Right then, Quartermaster." He said, regaining confidence. With the son's of Krieg a direct approach was often the best approach he had found, so he just asked out right "What is the purpose of the storage racks built into these servitors?"

"My duty is to see to the disposition and maintenance of the Emperor's equipment Sir. The racks allow me to collect the weapons of the martyrs when battle is concluded Sir." He said. He was very quiet, and as he spoke the words were flat, and without inflection.

Well that answered his question. But i raised a new one.

"Why do you have medical equipment then?" He asked. After all if his purpose was to look after the companies weapons it seemed ill-fitting.

"My purpose is to see to the continued efficacy of all of the Emperor's equipment sergeant" He said, placing emphasis on the word 'all'. It took the Sergeant a moment to realize what he meant.

"Surely you don't mean to say you consider a man the same as a lasgun?" He asked incredulously.

"We are tools in the hands of the Emperor Sir, born to die in his name. Our lives are a resource, just as surely as are lasguns and tanks." Was his response. His voice did not rise in volume, but his tone changed. It was the most passionately the Sergeant had ever heard a Krieger speak. His words were filled with absolute conviction.

That fervor was disturbing. This man was ready to die. He didn't consider his life or the lives of his comrades to be worth any more than what they could purchase in death. Rochus decided he didn't really care to continue this conversation.

"Very well then Quartermaster Seven zero Nine. Thank you for answering my questions. I need to be getting back to my unit." He said, and turned to walk away.

If the Quartermaster acknowledged his statement he neither heard nor saw it as he returned to his squad. The boys were sitting in a loose circle. They'd taken their helmets off and were passing around lho-sticks as they waited. Rochus joined them and pulled off his own helmet. They were safe here in the tunnel,might as well be comfortable. He nudged Alfons and motioned for him to pass him a lho-stick. After lighting up he settled in to listen.

"-nd she had legs like a sentinal" Gelen said, but before he could continue he was interrupted.

"You mean they were gangly and skeletal?" Trooper Baiman, a snaggle toothed underhiver, said. The men laughed and Gelen colored slightly.

"It's an expression!" He said indignantly.

"If it is it isn't a very good one." Said Mulder and the men laughed a bit more as Gelen sputtered.

"Relax Koenraad" Said Ramaaker "Just a bit of a laugh is all, you know we don't mean anything by it."

He sputtered a bit more and the men finished up laughing, and then suddenly Baiman turned to Kranz.

"Hey Piet, you're from Assen-hive right?"He asked

"Yeah, what of it?" Kranz replied raising an eyebrow

"Is it true what they say, y'know, about Assen-hive women?" Baiman said while cupping his hands in front of his chest.

Kranz snorted and said "Five months we've been in the same squad and you ask me now?"

"Well i hadn't thought of it till just now" Said Baiman.

Kranz shook his head and chuckled. "No, unless your women were as flat as boards i doubt it."

The banter continued back and forth as the men waited. After a while the conversation slowed down and ground to a halt, and the men turned in for the evening. They spent that night in there where they had stopped, and then continued down the tunnel after they woke until they reached the waiting drilling rig. Once again they stopped and waited. But this time there was no conversation as they waited. The air filled with anticipation as men checked their gear. It was almost time.

He wasn't sure how long they waited in the tunnel, how long they waited before they felt it. The first rumble as the artillery barrage began and the Earth-shakers lived up to their name. He quietly mouthed a prayer to the emperor that the tunnel would hold. Apparently either Krieger engineering was just that good, or the emperor was indeed looking over them,because though some dust trickled down from the ceiling with each muffled boom the tunnel held. At the head of the column the captain drew his sword.

The captain wasn't a man inclined to give long speeches and flowery words. There was no place for such things on the battlefield. Rather, he raised his sword and bellowed out "We are Alpha! First in, first to draw blood! For Batavi and the Emperor!"

The roar of the men's response was drowned out as the engine of the Hades breaching drill came to life. The screaming whir of it's four power-cutters filled the tunnel as it leaped towards the wall and began to power through towards the surface. It surged forward, opening up the earth, and Alpha company and the Grenadiers charged into the breach after it.

Brinkerhoff's legs pumped furiously and his feet pounded into the ground as he ran up the incline. Ahead he watched as the drill tore through into the light of day and men began to pour over the lip of the tunnel. He could hear weapons fire as the guardsmen opened up on the unsuspecting xenos. A few yards more, and then he was through.

He brought his arm down, signalling the men behind him to turn to the left and clear the mouth of the tunnel. The surprise was wearing off and the xenos were beginning to return fire. Blue and red bolts flew through the air as they exchanged fire. The ground near the tunnel was strewn with the corpses of the Tau caught in the initial confusion and Alpha company had established a beachhead.

The sergeant and his squad took cover as best they could in the shadow of a nearby building and began to fire at the Tau as the grenadiers began to stream out of the tunnel. What Tau there were left in the area had dug in around their objective, the anti aircraft battery, but they were fewer in number than the tide of Troopers flowing out of the tunnel. Most of the alien defenders would have been called to the front when the artillery fell and the men began massing in anticipation of an assault. This area was relatively lightly defended. The foul Xenos had clearly underestimated their cunning and thought they would just dash themselves against the walls until they bled dry.

It was clear to him, it would not be long before they took the objective now. They would advance slowly but surely, with squads leapfrogging from cover to cover as the remainder laid suppression fire on the Tau until they were close enough to engage them in melee and finish them off. Then, with the defenders vanquished, they would be able to plant the charges and blow the guns. They'd done it hundreds of times in drills and in the field. He could see it all play out in his mind.

The Death Korps it seemed however, had different plans.

He stared, as the grenadiers charged out of the tunnel and just kept running, straight into the teeth of the Tau. They ran past the men of Alpha company as they took cover, and continued to run across the open ground. Ensconced safely behind a wall of human shields in the center of each squad, was a Trooper with a meltabomb.

The Tau poured fire into the oncoming grenadiers, but they barely even slowed their charge as men leaped over the bodies of the fallen, or trampled them under foot. The lead squads melted away, ceasing to exist as the fusillade took it's toll, but the squads behind them gained ground for every body that fell to the earth. They ran on, as they littered the ground with bodies, until they jumped over the barricades the Tau hid behind and fell on them with Bayonets and Entrenching tools. They bludgeoned and stabbed the xenos, spraying their uniforms with bluish-purple blood, as the Batavi men stared.

It took less than two minutes. Barely even one. The charge, the slaughter that followed. Over in seconds. As the Grenadiers began to set up the meltabombs and the Quartermaster and his servitors began to move among the dead Thijmen Haanrath voiced what every man in the squad was no doubt thinking.

"Emperor above..."He murmured and made the sign of the Aquila.

Rochus blinked once, twice, and then his mind caught up with what had just happened.

"Well what are you standing around like a bunch of Schola Juvies for" He shouted "Get to cover, dig in! That made a lot of noise and the Xenos will have heard it. It isn't over"

Snapped out of shock his men leapt to do as he said, and around him he could see other squads doing the same. In short order they established a perimeter facing outwards towards the rest of the Tau encampment. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Grenadiers joining the line, and then the meltabombs went off with a boom that he could feel in his chest and made his ears ring. They'd opened the skies.

Or more accurately, the Death Korps had opened the skies. Their attack had been pure brute force and zeal, without any semblance of what the sergeant thought of as proper tactics, but it had gotten the job done. 'Far quicker' he admitted to himself grudgingly, 'then we could have done it ourselves'. And every second counted on a mission like this. The vox officer would be reporting their success, and soon the Valkyries and Vendettas would fill the sky and rain death from above.

He turned back to see if any more grenadiers were coming. There were a few stragglers hurrying towards the line, but it looked like most of them were already in position. The only trooper not rushing to get into position was the Quartermaster, who was still working among the dead with his servitors. Sergeant Brinkerhoff turned just in time to see the quartermaster strip the mask off of a fallen grenadier and slip it onto a hook on a servitors back.

'By the golden throne' He thought to himself 'he's little more than a child'. The dead grenadier's face was free of any hint of stubble. His cheeks were smooth and his features soft with youth. If he had been even seventeen Rochus would eat his helmet. He couldn't have been any older than his little brother Agner back on Batavi. Throne, he was probably younger than Agner was at this point.

Any further musings were cut short by the shout of "Incoming" from down the line. He turned back to face forward and saw that the Tau were approaching in the floating APCs the men called "Devilfish". He held his fire for now, no point wasting ammunition if there wasn't anything his Hellgun could damage. Down the line a trooper popped up with a tube on his shoulder and launched a missile at one of the oncoming Devilfish. It flew true and struck the Xenos vehicle on the nose, knocking it to the side. More missiles began to fly and the men cheered and shouted obscenities at the aliens as their advance faltered.

As Tau began to emerge from the downed vehicles Rochus and the Troopers around him opened fire, scything down the enemy soldiers as they disembarked from their burning transports and sought for cover.He smiled. This was nothing like fighting heretics on Trieste had been, the aliens really were as pathetic as it said in the prime-

BOOM

To his left one of the squads with heavy weapons and the outcrop they were sheltering behind disappeared in a flash of blue light and heat. His eye followed it back to it's source and he blanched. What in the warp was that?

It looked like, like some perverted Xenos version of a holy dreadnought was descending from the sky on wings of fire. And it wasn't alone, there were two more. The foul xenos...things, alighted on the rooftops and leveled their obscenely large guns at the Imperial Guard line before opening fire. Under cover of their cannons, the Devilfish began again to advance.

As the floating APC's grew closer they opened up with their forward mounted cannons, hosing the guardsmen's line with pulse fire, and smaller robots detached themselves and brought their own turrets to bear, further increasing the deluge suppressing Alpha company and the Grenadiers. Safe from retaliation Xenos warriors streamed out of the vehicles , before beginning to move to flank the Guardsmen's position.

From behind cover the servants of the Emperor tried to resist as best they could. Reaching around the sides or popping up over the top to fire at the enemy. Rochus squeezed off a volley from his hellgun, and was rewarded as the bolts struck a Tau warrior in the chest and it fell to the ground limp like a puppet who's strings had been cut. Blue energy whizzed by his head as he ducked back behind the outcropping. On his right another squad disappeared in a flash of blue light as the cursed Xenos walkers fired their guns.

To his side one of his troopers fell to the ground clutching his shoulder and began to scream. It was Baiman. The bolt that struck him had burned a hole straight through his armor and then on through his shoulder the size of Rochus's fist, charring the surrounding flesh as it had burrowed through him. Pender was calling for a medic. The sergeant popped out again and fired another volley at the Xenos. He couldn't do anything for Baiman now, and if they didn't fight their way out of this they were all dead. Alpha and the Grenadiers were nearly encircled now. Soon the Tau would begin closing the noose.

He saw it just seconds before he heard the supersonic boom and felt the shock-wave of the aircraft's passing. A sudden flash of red in the upper left hand corner of his peripheral vision as fire engulfed one of the Tau "dreadnoughts". Then a second flight flew by overhead , unloading their missiles into the hulking Xenos monstrosities that had been raining death down on their line and the alien APCs.

The Troopers cheered as the enemy heavies went up in flames. No longer forced behind cover they began to fire in earnest at the advancing Xenos infantry. The air grew thick with blue and red bolts of energy as Hell-guns and pulse-rifles spat death and hatred across the battlefield.

Rochus was sighting down the barrel of his gun at an alien when he heard the whine of Valkyrie engines overhead and the enemy exploded under lasfire from above. The first flight had swung back around and was now hanging over them, strafing the Tau. The Valkyries opened up their holds and disgorged troopers, who fell rapidly before firing their grav-chutes, arresting their momentum and expertly touching down safely on the ground.

Despite the cacophony of weapons fire and shouting suddenly it seemed quieter. He realized it was because he could no longer hear Baiman screaming. He looked over expecting to find the trooper dead, but found instead that Pender's desperate cries for a medic had been answered. The Quartermaster was there, working on Baiman with swift practiced efficiency.

He watched as he pulled out the injector he had just used to pump Baiman full of pain killers and laid the wounded soldier down. When he turned back again after firing off another round at the Xenos the Quartermaster was packing the wound, and when he looked a third time between taking shots he was wrapping it.

"I need something i can use to prop up his feet 30 centimeters" The Quartermaster said in his raspy monotone. Pender pulled off his pack and proffered it to the medic.

"Will this do?" He asked

"That equipment is-" The Krieger began but Pender cut him off

"Will it do?" He insisted.

The Quartermaster stared at him for a moment before grabbing the proffered pack. "Yes" He said curtly, a bit of pique coloring his tone as he slid it underneath Baiman's feet.

His work finished the Quartermaster turned to face him and said "Sergeant, I've done all i can at this time. His wound is not fatal and he has been treated for shock. He should live. I will require covering fire to get to that position" He said pointing at a nearby squad where a man was on the ground clutching at the stump of what used to be his leg.

Rochus nodded. "Understood. On three then." He paused for a moment and then said "and thank you" while motioning towards Baiman. Baiman was one of the few men left from his original squad. They'd been recruited at the same time out of Ultrecht hive on Batavi and survived 10 years together on Trieste. He wouldn't say he was a friend, but he knew he could rely on him when the chips were down. He was grateful he wouldn't be adding a new name to the list of fallen comrades in his head, wouldn't be adding another memento to the collection he used to remember them by. Disturbing he may have been, but the Quartermaster knew his business.

The Death Korpsmen nodded and then readied himself to run. Behind their cover the sergeant counted down on his fingers to the rest of the men. 3, 2, 1. They popped out from cover and hosed the tau with suppression fire as the Quartermaster sprinted towards his target. Though a few blue bolts of energy licked at his heels he made it to cover unmolested.

With the support of Valkyries and the additional troops that had dropped into the battle they quickly mopped up the remainders of the Tau counter offensive, and then word came down the line. The drop troopers had come with new orders. Command wanted them to push up and assault the Tau defensive line from the rear. Even with air superiority the assault was struggling. The Xenos resistance was stiff, and the 208th was taking heavy casualties trying to gain a foothold. They were to crush them from behind and open the way for the rest of the Regiments' troopers.

The wounded, including Trooper Baiman, were evaced in a Valkyrie and the Company and the Grenadiers began to move out in the direction the Tau counter assault had come from at a fast trot. As they double timed it through the Tau encampment they could soon hear the sounds of pitched battle ahead. Rounding a final corner they saw the back of the Xenos line.

"Charge!" shouted the captain, and the men ran at them bayonets first firing bursts as they sprinted towards the Tau. Their approach was far from silent, and the aliens wheeled about to face them, but they were too slow to stop the charge and the men of Alpha company and the First Grenadier company slammed into their ranks.

Letting his gun hang by it's shoulder strap and slide across his back Rochus drew his chainsword. As he thumbed the igniter it whirred to life. As a Tau warrior tried to club him with the but of it's gun he knocked it's weapon asside, and then dragged his screeching blade across it's chest. The chainsword dug a furrow through it's armor and tore into it's torso, spraying Rochus with chunks of purplish blue viscera. Tearing his sword free from the corpse he pushed it to the side, and launched himself at the next nearest Xeno. In training he had proven to have a talent for the blade, a talent which he had honed in desperate fights for his life in the close confines of the hives of Trieste. He tore through them, the xenos proving unable to offer any significant challenge.

The attack from the rear created a break in the Tau firing line, and guardsmen streamed into it. Death Korps troopers poured over the wall and joined them in the melee. Soon the entire Tau line was consumed in a desperate struggle to survive. As Rochus stepped over the mangled corpse of his latest kill he saw a member of the Death Korps run through by a Xenos holding a blade. Raising his chainsword he roared a challenge and charged the Tau warrior.

The blue alien raised his blade overhead and ran to meet the sergeant. They met in a clash of steel as the Tau warrior brought his blade down at Rochus's head, and he interposed his chainsword in it's path. Their blades locked and they struggled to gain dominance over one another. After a moment Rochus began to overpower the Tau, but before he could shove aside his sword and break through his defenses the Xenos broke his blade free of the deadlock.

The exchanged blows furious blows, weaving a deadly web of steel between them as they slashed and parried. Rochus was the stronger of the two, but the alien was faster and possessed of a foul cunning. His blade slipped past Rochus's defense and sliced across his bicep, opening the flesh of his arm.

The Xenos cried out in triumph as his defense faltered, and brought it's blade down for the killing blow, but Rochus deflected it off of his gauntlet and then drove his Chainsword to the hilt into the Tau's chest. Blue blood trickled from the corners of the aliens mouth as it gurgled it's last breaths and then died. The carcass slid slowly to the ground pulling free of his Chainsword as it fell. Around him the last of the Tau were slain and troopers poured into the Tau encampment. The battle was over, they had won.

After the battle Rochus found himself in an aid station with a cloth pressed to his bloody bicep waiting for a medic. Eventually, after he had been there for an hour or so a harried looking trooper with a medikit stitched up his wound. The man slid the needle in and out of his skin in quick jerky movements, barely pausing as he went. When he was done Rochus looked down at the uneven and in places crooked criss-cross of stitches across his bicep.

"Ten years you've been in the Guard as a Medicae and you can't do better than this?" He griped to the man

"If you don't like it sergeant you can redo it yourself, i've sixty men more to go behind you, now get" The man said as he brushed past Rochus to the side of the next man, who was holding a bloody pad to the right side of his face. Rochus turned to retort, but saw that he had been entirely forgotten as the Medicae pulled back the pad and attended to the gash that had, barely, missed the troopers eye.

So dismissed, Rochus left and headed towards platoon command, intending to ask the lieutenant about Baiman. Warp take that Medicae, couldn't even patch a bloke up right in an aid station. What good would he be in the field? He grumbled a bit more as he finished his trek to the bunker and poked his head in.

"Permission to enter sir?" He asked

"Come in Sergeant" Said the lieutenant, and he walked in and sat down when Goossens gestured for him to do so. "How's the arm?" The Lieutenant asked

"Well the Medicae made a right hash of it, but i'll live" He replied

"Don't they always?" said the lieutenant and they shared a short laugh. When they finished chuckling the sergeant opened his mouth and asked what he had come here to find out.

"Sir, whats the word on Trooper Baiman?" He said.

The lieutenant sighed "Lambert has been removed from active duty. They're gonna have to replace his whole arm and shoulder, and then once the prosthesis has been grafted on he'll have to go through therapy until he can use it. He's not an officer, and there are a lot of soldiers waiting on prosthetics, so he's out of the fight for the foreseeable future." He replied.

"Understood sir" Rochus said. At least he was alive, and he would recover, some day. "Will my squad be receiving a replacement?"

"About that" said Goossens " The 208th took massive casualties in the battle, including the regiments' Colonel and most of it's officers. It has been decided that the remainder of the 208th will be seconded to the 602nd until such time as we are able to join up with the Death Korps 457th Siege on the northern front. So yes, you will be receiving a replacement. A Krieger."

"Understood sir" Rochus said again, then paused. Now there was a thought. Maybe he could get his arm seen to properly after all. "Sir, could i make a request?" He asked.

"What is it Rochus?" replied the Lieutenant

"Baiman's replacement sir, i would like to request the Quartermaster from the First Grenadier company for my squad" He said

The lieutenant raised an eyebrow "What does your squad need a supply officer for?" He asked

"It's what they call a Medicae sir" sergeant Brinkerhoff replied.

Goossens frowned "I don't have the authority to do that Rochus, the Captain will be in charge of assignments."

"Come off it Adrianus" Rochus said "We both know you have the Captains ear. If you asked he'd listen. Do me a solid here, you owe me. Remember that time on Trieste with the cultist pretending to be a joyg-"

"Alright alright" the Lieutenant interrupted and leaned in and pointed at Rochus "I'll get you your Medicae, but you never bring that up again ya hear? I'm sick and tired of you bringing that up"

Sergeant Brinkerhoff chuckled at how flustered the Lieutenant was and dragged his finger in an x over his chest "Cross my heart sir, never again. Just get me my Medicae" He said.

The lieutenant nodded and then said "Agreed, now get out sergeant"

The next day Baiman's replacement arrived.

The masked trooper reported at the crack of dawn. When Rochus woke that morning it was to a pounding headache and a bladder full to bursting. Groaning he got up to relieve himself, and when he stepped outside he found Baiman's replacement standing by the entrance to the squad's dugout. It was the Quartermaster. The Krieger snapped to attention and said

"Sir, reporting as ordered sir"

"At ease trooper" the sergeant grumbled. It was way to early for this, considering he'd gotten plastered last night after the battle, and was suffering the consequences. "Wait inside, i'll see to you when i get back"

When he returned from taking care of his business he found the newest member of the squad standing just inside the entrance of the dugout on the right hand side of the door and the rest of his men dragging themselves up and leaving to preform their morning ablutions.

"Right then, let's get you sorted out" He said "First things first, what is your name Trooper."

The masked guardsman paused for a moment before answering "I am sorry sir, i have not been informed of my new designation."

Rochus stared at him for a moment before finally replying "What?"

"I am sorry sir, but following my transfer i was not made aware of my new designation. My previous designation was Quartermaster Seven zero Nine attached to the Death Korps of Krieg 208th Infantry Regiment first grenadier company fourth squad, however this designation is no longer accurate. Are you aware of my current designation sir?" He said

He began to suspect the gasmask was pulling his leg. "Your name soldier. Give me your name" He insisted, irritation coloring his voice.

The trooper began to reply in the same monotone "My designa-"

"Emperor's bowels" he growled. "Fine. You don't have a name? Fine. Your the medicae, you understand?"

"Understood sir, my new designation is 'Medicae'" The Guardsmen replied.

The sergeant sucked in a breath between his teeth and then released it slowly. "Right then Medicae, This is your bunk" He said and pointed to the space Baiman used to occupy. "We have second watch in the Mid afternoon. Mornings and evenings are free for the most part."

The Medicae nodded "Understood sir." He replied.

After introducing the Medicae to the men the rest of the squad wandered off to find breakfast while their newest member stayed behind to settle in. The Krieger Joined them that afternoon for watch duty exactly as the watch began, and quietly manned his post for the duration of the watch. When the watch ended and he left to play cards with Alpha companies' other sergeants for the evening he didn't even give the Krieger a second thought until the topic of the new additions to the regiment came up.

"All they do is just stand there and stare" Said sergeant Teunissen " I got three of em now, and they aren't even trying to get along with the rest of the men"

"Well it's only the first day" Said Sergeant Claasen "Maybe they'll loosen up"

Teunissen snorted "Right, loosen up. You know what they did when i asked for their names? Started spouting some tripe about designations and telling me their ranks and serial numbers like they'd been captured and i was an enemy interrogator!"

"My new man did the same thing" Piped up Rochus "It was bizarre"

At this point Sergeant Dirchs, who had been silent until this point chimed in. "Way i hear it they've all been conditioned that way. Raised from birth to be soldiers for the Emperor."

"What like Cadians?" Asked Claasen

"You think the gas masks are anything like those boys we met on Trieste?" Dirchs sneered "They're a different breed entirely"

"Born to die" Said Rochus quietly, thinking back to his conversation with the Quartermaster in the tunnel.

"What?" said Teunissen

"Something one of them said to me" Rochus replied " He said that they were 'born to die for the Emperor', or something like that"

The table was silent for a moment and then Dirchs said "If they were told that from when they was in diapers it's no wonder they're a bit different"

It was quiet at the table after that. The mood was subdued and it was difficult to enjoy the game. Sergeant Brinkerhoff left early to return to his men. As he walked he couldn't stop thinking about the Death Korps. The Grenadiers who had charged to their deaths against the Tau to deliver the meltabombs. What Dirchs had said about their indoctrination from birth. The former Quartermasters' fervent declaration that he was born to die in the Emperor's name. And most of all, he couldn't stop thinking about the young face that had stared up at him when he had seen what lay behind their masks. It painted a bleak picture.

He was so caught up in his thoughts he didn't notice it at first. He took a few more steps before the sounds registered in his brain. There was shouting coming from his squad's dugout.

He started to run. Now that he was paying attention, he could hear Otten's wheezing laughter, and determined that it was Mulder shouting.

"-swear by the Golden Throne if you don't tell me where you hid my tunes YOU are gonna need a Medicae" Mulder Bellowed. The sergeant was nearly to the dugout, he was approaching the entrance. Had Otten finally up and gotten rid of the source of his irritation? No, that didn't seem right. Oh please don't let it be the-

"Non-regulation Equipment is unnecessary weight and a waste of space" Said the Krieger in his monotone voice "In accordance with standing orders i have confiscated all non-regulation equipment until i am able to deliver it to a superior officer"

Warp take him it was. He rounded the corner and entered the dugout just in time to see Mulder raising his hand to strike the masked trooper "I'll show you unnecessary you-"

"MULDER" He roared, and everyone in the dugout froze. Rochus may never have been a drill sergeant, but he had the lungs for it. "You're out of line trooper. Now someone explain what in the Emperor's name is going on here!" he demanded as he stalked towards them. The men of the squad, with the exception of Otten who had been on his bunk laughing and was now trying to come to attention, were surrounding the Medicae in a loose circle.

"It was the gas mask sir" said Trooper Achterberg " He went through our things and knicked our stuff while we was away"

He blanched and shoved past them to his bunk. Behind him he could hear the argument starting up again as the Krieger insisted for a second time that Non-regulation items were unnecessary and could only negatively effect the ability of the squad to preform it's duties. He went to his bunk and opened the box he kept under it. Boer's yo-yo, the wooden horse Hendriks had carved, Langbroek's lucky coin, Raske's Aquila pendant, Gone. The mementos he kept to remember dead friends and brothers - Addens, Jans, Meisner, Lauwers - all missing.

He wasn't sure how long he knelt there looking into that empty box. He was trying very hard to calm himself and think things through before he did something he would regret later. The men had grown quiet and turned to watch him. They knew what that box and it's contents meant to him.

"Fek" Said Ramaaker, breaking him out of his thoughts. He needed to deal with this mess. Taking a deep breath he stood and pointed at the Medicae.

"You" He growled "Come with me. The rest of you sit tight, i'll sort you out when i get back"

He trudged out of the dugout with the Krieger trailing behind him. Once he had gotten out into the trench he just kept walking, taking deep breaths and letting the motion bleed off his anger. He didn't wanna look at the Krieger, let alone try to address this, until he had calmed down a bit. After a few minutes when he had cooled off he ducked into a blind alley where they could talk unobserved.

After they were in the blind he paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. His immediate reaction was of course to berate the Medicae for overstepping his bounds, but he powered through that. The Medicae had just done what he thought was his duty. The Krieger wasn't like them, he shouldn't be surprised if there were a few incidents along the way. He looked down at the gas-masked guardsman, who was nearly a head shorter than him, and was reminded again of how young he probably was and thought of his little brother. Agner had been an annoying little git, but most of the time he hadn't meant to be. Yelling at him had just bred resentment. He'd had far better results when they were able to talk things out calmly. That was the final impetus he needed to make his decision. While he would need to make sure it didn't happen again and that the trooper understood that he should not have gone through the men's things, tearing him a new one wasn't the solution. Best to start by hearing his side of it.

"Explain to me what happened trooper" He said.

"While stowing my gear i became aware of several items inside the squad's dugout that were not sanctioned equipment. Upon Further inspection i discovered that nearly all members of the squad were in possession of items that were not regulation equipment. In accordance with standing orders i removed the items in question in order to turn them in for inspection at the earliest opportunity." Said the Medicae

"Which standing orders Medicae?" He asked. He didn't recall reading about that in the primer or hearing about it. I mean sure there were lists of banned items, but non of the men had been in possession of any as far as he knew. His mementos certainly weren't contraband and the Medicae had take them as well.

"General order 16 sir, A guardsmen shall not alter or supplement the equipment issued him, nor shall he posses items not issued him by the regiment" The Krieger Responded.

"Soldier that order does not exist in the Batavi 602nd infantry regiment." Replied the sergeant after a moments pause. " In the Batavi 602nd infantry regiment it is not against regulations for a guardsmen to have personal effects. The items you took are very important to the men. They are critical for the maintenance of unit moral."

The Medicae was silent. It was difficult read Kriegers. The masks hid their faces and their greatcoats and armor obscured their body language, but the sergeant thought he saw him stiffen.

"You are no longer Quartermaster of a Death Korps Grenadier company, you are a Medicae in our Alpha company. Your duty is to ensure the health and safety of the men. It is no longer your duty to see to equipment. You overstepped your authority. Do you understand." He said, and the Krieger nodded. He stared a moment to see that the message had gotten through before softening slightly. As difficult as this situation was for him, it was likely equally difficult for the Medicae, if not more so.

It was a bit like the situation with Kranz. Both were outsiders, not really part of the unit. But in Kranz's case he at least was from Batavi. He understood the men and how the regiment operated. For a former member of the Death Korps of Krieg joining their regiment would be like entering a whole new world all alone. Even for a stoic member of the Death Korps that would be hard, and he was probably just a lad to boot. Rochus decided he would take the kid under his wing, help get him through this. The image of the Krieger alone and surrounded by the rest of the squad flashed through his mind. It put a sour taste in his mouth. He wouldn't let it end like that.

"Of course you had no way of knowing about our regulations" He said in a softer tone than he had before "You were trying to follow your orders, and that is commendable, but in this instance you have made a grave error. An error which could have been avoided if you had consulted me first. In the future if you have a question, or a problem, you will bring it to me. Understood?"

The masked man nodded and responded "Yes sir, i understand sir. What is to be the punishment for my Infraction sir?"

Sergeant Brinkerhoff clapped him on the shoulder. "It was an honest mistake trooper, disciplinary action won't be necessary. Just take me to where you stashed everyone's things"

The Guardsmen stared at him for a moment and then nodded weakly. Before removing his hand from the other man's shoulder Rochus opened his mouth to say one last thing.

"Listen" He said "Things are going to be different here from what you are used to. It will be difficult. Just remember, i'm here to help. Alright?"

After he stared at the Krieger for a minute the other man finally nodded acknowledgement. "Good" Said the sergeant, who then gestured for the Krieger to lead the way. "Let's get going then."

The Medicae lead him into the section of trench that had once been the domain of the Death Korps, but was now sparsely manned by others, to a dugout the sergeant presumed had been occupied by his squad. He stepped inside. There, arrayed on the empty bunks, were the men's things. He gave everything a quick once over before moving to make sure that his mementos were all present and undamaged. Yo-yo, horse, pendant, coin, lighter, marked deck of cards, ring, lhogar cutter, all present and accounted for and seemingly none the worse for wear. He breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Sir" Said the Medicae "Permission to ask a question sir"

"Granted trooper" Said Rochus. He would need to work on that, the kid needed to loosen up a bit, but one thing at a time. At least the Krieger seemed to have listened when he told him to ask if he had questions. 'Probably thought it was an order' he thought and snorted

"Those items sir" He said pointing at sergeant Brinkerhoff's mementos "What is their significance. They appear to be a collection of random detritus"

He did not answer immediately, and his mouth pulled into a frown. After a moment the Medicae spoke up "I am sorry sir i-"

"No" Said Rochus "No, it's alright. I'll answer the question." He paused for a moment more and collected himself before he spoke again.

"These" He said "Belonged to brothers in arms who fell in service to the Emperor. I carry them with me in order to remember them, and the sacrifice each of them made for mankind." It was difficult to say that, on multiple levels. For one it was uncomfortable to talk about something so personal. Also, it brought memories to the surface he'd rather not think about. He like to look at these and remember the good times. Hustling members of other squads with Jans and his marked deck, enjoying a smoke with Meisner, watching Hendriks carve animals to give to children because he said they reminded him of his niece and nephew.

He didn't like to think about how they died. About how Lauwers jumped on a grenade for them, or how they turned around one day on patrol and Raske was missing from the end of the line. How they found his mutilated body the next day hanging from a hook. About the ambush that scarred Lieutenant Goossens and cost them Addens and Boers. It was painful.

But he pushed through and said it, because it was important. He'd told the kid to ask questions. If he refused to do so the first time he did he probably wouldn't ask any more. So he said it, to show the kid that it was alright. That he could ask questions, ask for help, and he would be there to answer. He just hoped the Medicae understood that.

It was quiet in the dugout for a moment and then the Krieger spoke. "I did not mean to disrespect the honored dead. Forgive me sir, i will accept whatever discipline you deem appropriate."

"You did not know Medicae" The sergeant said "You were just trying to do your duty. I will not punish you for ignorance. Just remember to come to me in the future so we can make sure nothing like this happens again. Understood"

The masked man nodded, more emphatically than he had before in the blind alley and said firmly "Yes sir, understood sir"

Rochus smiled. It was a start. "Good" He said and reached down to grab Mulder's music "Then help me grab all this stuff, we need to get it back to the boys before they start a riot"

"These items are that important to the maintenance of moral sir?" asked the Krieger in a dull, but somewhat hurried, monotone. Then without waiting for an answer he said quietly "My error was more serious than i had realized" and then began hurrying to grab things off of the bunks and rushed out of the dugout.

Rochus was left alone, staring at the exit holding Mulder's tunes in one hand and his mementos in the other.

Rochus grabbed the rest of what was on the beds and hurried after him. The Krieger had apparently decided that the possibility of a crisis of moral warranted all due haste, and was jogging as quickly as he could in the confined space of the trench. Fortunately Rochus had the longer legs of the two and he was catching up despite the other man's head start. He imagined they must have looked quite odd to anyone who saw them pass by, a masked member of the Death Korps being chased by a member of the 602nd, both with their arms full of odds and ends.

After a moment he caught up and called out "Stop." The Medicae slowed down and then came to a halt.

"Sir why have you ordered me to stop? We must deliver these items quickly" He said

"There won't be a riot Medicae" He said as he came to a stop next to him. "It was an exaggeration, a joke." There was a momentary pause before the Krieger replied.

"I fail to see what is humorous about a break down of discipline within the unit sir" He said. Rochus wasn't sure how to respond to that honestly. Best just to ignore it.

"In any case they can wait a few minutes more for us to bring their stuff back to them." He replied, and then after a moments thought added "And if we were to continue running we may damage something."

"Understood sir." said the Medicae.

The walk back to the dugout was quiet after that. Rochus had nothing to say, and it seemed neither did the Medicae. When they entered the dugout the Krieger did something Rochus had not expected. After placing the items in his arms on the bunk nearest to the entrance he came to attention, and spoke to the rest of the squad.

"I am sorry for taking your personal items" He said "Please do not allow this incident to negatively effect squad moral. They have been returned undamaged."

Rochus blinked. A bit odd, but it was an apology. He hadn't expected that. He hadn't ordered one, and he hadn't thought the Krieger would offer one.

"Well then" He said as he dropped his load next to where the Krieger had dropped what he had been carrying "Here's your crap boys, come and get it." He went to go replace his items where they belonged as the men went to the bunk and collected their things. He watched to make sure everything went smoothly, and then when everything had been collected without incident he said "Mulder, could i speak with you for a moment please"

It got quiet in the dugout when he said that, and Mulder's movements were stiff as he followed him out of the squad's quarters. He found himself leading the man to the same blind alley he had spoken to the Medicae in. Hopefully coming here wouldn't be a regular occurrence. As he turned to face him the other man opened his mouth and said "Sir I'm sorry, my conduct was unacceptable."

"Yes, it was" the sergeant replied. Mulder he knew, and Mulder he knew to know better. "You know the punishment for fighting. You want to get strung up and lashed?"

"No sir, i don't sir" The man replied and then said quietly "Rochus you're not gonna-"

"Tell command? Hand you over to he commissar?" He asked and then shook his head "Nothing happened, there's no need for it to go beyond the squad, but this can't happen again Mulder."

"It won't sir, i promise" He said

"You've been arguing a lot with Otten lately" Said the sergeant "When i heard the shouting, i thought it was the two of you fighting."

Mulder stiffened and said "With respect sir, maybe you should be talking with Otten then."

"It's not just Otten Aldert" Rochus said "He's just the most vocal about it. The music has been getting on everyone's nerves. It even gets on mine. We've been listening to the same songs for the last four years, and lately it seems like you play them just about every day."

"You can't take away my music Rochus, you can't" the man said desperately "I need it sir, i don't think i could keep doing this without it"

"i'm not going to take away your music Aldert" He replied softly "But you need to be less confrontational about it. Turn it down, or take it with you and find a quiet place to listen." Honestly this had been a long time coming. The men had tried to be understanding, Emperor knows they all had their own quirks, but it was long past time this should have been addressed. Mulder hadn't always been this bad about it, they'd been able to handle it on Trieste when it was only after combat or when things got festive, but it'd gotten to be a problem ever since the second week after they were sent here to the trenches.

"Yes sir, i understand sir" replied Mulder, and he looked down.

"Listen" Said Rochus "It's not that we don't like your music, it's nice to listen to on occasion, it's just we've heard the same songs so many times i think i could sing them backwards. If you put on something new i'm sure no one, not even Otten, would object."

"And how am i supposed to do that Rochus?" He asked despondently "Those tunes is all i have"

"Well i've been thinking" He said "Lotta men in the regiment. You can't be the only one with music. I'd bet someone else found something on Trieste, or maybe brought something from home. We'll ask around, and when we find it i'll cash in that favor the cog boys owe me and get it copied for you"

"Really sarge?" Aldert asked

"Of course" He replied "You know i look after my men. we'll get this sorted out." Mulder straightened out and smiled

"Thank you sarge. I'm sorry for the trouble, i really am." He said.

He smiled back and said "Good, i'm glad that's settled then."

As they started to leave Mulder asked "Hey sarge, how'd you get the gasmask to apologize? you musta really ripped the stiff a new one"

Rochus stopped and said "Mulder"

"Yes sarge?" replied the guardsmen

"I never want to hear you call him gasmask again. He's part of the squad now, and i expect you all to treat him as such. Pass the word around, if i catch anyone mistreating him i'll have them doing burpees till they puke"

"Understood sir" Replied Mulder quickly "i'll spread the word sir."

"Good" Said Rochus, and then he started walking again. After a moment Mulder followed after him, and they went back to the dugout.

They marked the days until the time of the projected arrival by the Tau reinforcements. They reinforced bunkers and threw down the xenos fortifications they had overtaken. A quiet tension overtook the regiment as they pondered what was to come in three days time. How many ships? How many Aliens? They didn't know. If Command knew they were less than forthcoming with the details, so the men of the Batavi 602nd were left to gossip among themselves.Everywhere he went he could hear troopers from other companies whispering to each other when there weren't officers around.

As for Rochus, he thought about the alien "dreadnoughts", and worried about what Xenos tech sorcery they would bring to bear in the next engagement. But he kept his thoughts to himself. A sergeant was supposed to inspire his men to courage, not to worry. If his squad worried about what was to come they kept quiet same as he did. They were Alpha company, they were above nattering like old women.

When he wasn't working Rochus was trying to smooth things between the Krieger and the rest of the squad, or trying to find Mulder some new music. On both fronts he was having little success.After he had spoken with each of them the men had respected his request that they not mistreat the Medicae, and that they try to include him, but while he never heard a slur spoken again in the dugout the effort made by the men to socialize with the Krieger was half-hearted at best. It didn't help that the Medicae himself made no effort to get to know them, or to tell them about himself. He could also be irritatingly blunt and tactless. He'd had to have several conversations with members of the squad to smooth things over after more than one faux pas. The only person the Krieger really talked to was Rochus, and even then sparingly, mostly just when he had something he needed answered.

He was, amazingly, having even less luck finding new music for Mulder than he was getting the boys to interact with the Krieger. He'd asked around the rest of Alpha company, and had even tried some of the boys he knew in Beta, but he'd come up empty. Before he would have gone to Baiman, that man had "friends" everywhere and had been able to get his hands on anything, but without him the best he could do now was put out feelers and wait.

So when Mulder came to him on the second evening after their talk and asked if he'd had any luck he had nothing to say but "I'm sorry Aldert, i haven't been able to get anything yet. Give it time" Mulder sighed and nodded his head in acknowledgement. Then, unexpectedly, someone behind him chimed in.

"If you are attempting to find new music in order to maintain squad moral, why have you not asked the Quartermaster if he has any he could issue you?" Inquired the Krieger.

"What" Asked Mulder before he could say anything.

"The Quartermaster" replied the Medicae."During my time as Quartermaster i kept the recordings used by the regiment on remembrance day. If this regiment has musical recordings beyond those you have been issued, the logical person to have them is the Quartermaster."

"The Death Korps carries music with them?" Asked Rochus incredulously, far to intent on this new question to explain to the Medicae that he had already asked the Quartermaster, unlikely as it had been that he would have anything. "The Death Korps?"

"Yes sir. It's standard issue sir, for use on remembrance day" Said the Medicae.

"Oh i have got to hear this" Said Kranz, who had apparently been listening in from his bunk. Indeed Rochus too was quite curious. It seemed out of character for the stoic and fatalistic regiment he had come to know. Furthermore he knew of no "Remembrance day".

"Could you acquire this music" He asked

"If you ordered it sir, yes" Replied the Krieger.

"Consider it an order then" He replied.

The Krieger nodded, and then walked out of the dugout. The men gathered round and waited. Everyone wanted to know the answer to the question. What kind of music would the Death Korps keep as standard issue for their regiments? After a short time the Medicae returned carrying a data slate, which Mulder then plugged into the speakers for the Vox. What emanated from the machine could only be described as hauntingly beautiful. Over the backdrop of the symphonic sound of a full orchestra a woman sang in a language he couldn't understand, but even though he didn't know what she was saying it stirred something in him.

"Medicae What is this?" He asked.

"It is an opera sir." The Medicae said. "The last opera written on Krieg, about Colonel Jurten and the Long War."

As he listened the woman was replaced by a man. He sang passionately, and as he sang he slowly increased in volume and the tempo of the music gradually sped up, until the sound of it poured forth from the Vox fast and furious. He could feel the defiance and the righteous fury in the man's voice, and it resonated with him.

"Who was Colonel Jurten" He barely heard Haanrath ask.

"He was a hero corporal" The Krieger said "By his hand was Krieg saved, and every year we remember his sacrifice and remind ourselves of our duty to live up to his example"

Rochus resolved to ask for the specifics later. It occurred to him he knew next to nothing about his Medicae's planet of origin. He would need to rectify that. But not now. For now he just wanted to listen to the music. It seemed the whole squad shared the sentiment, because they all sat there quietly and listened until the music ended. The last number was different from the rest. It was purely instrumental, with no singer, and was easily the most beautiful in his opinion.

"What was that last one?" He asked "Does it have a name."

"Yes" Replied the Krieger. His voice sounded thicker than usual "It's called Regentropfen"

The squad sat there for a moment after the last notes of "Regentropfen" faded away, and then Trooper Gelen spoke up.

"No offense but i never would have expected you ga-Kriegers" He caught himself as Rochus looked at him out of the corner of his eye "of all people to be into opera"

"Krieg was once one of the most cultured planets in the Segmentum Tempestus" replied the Medicae. "before the aristocrats dragged us into madness and Colonel Jurten was forced to burn the sky. In the long war that followed we had no more use for music or sculpture, but before the arts died the last of Krieg's artists among the loyalists created works to inspire future generations."

He could see the questions on the men's faces, after all he shared them. Long war? Burn the sky? What did the Medicae mean by that? But he thought it best to end it here for now. He worried that if this continued it might feel like an interrogation to the masked man, and decided the questions could wait for another time.

"Thank you for sharing this." He said gesturing to the data slate. "May Mulder hang on to it, or do i need for a tech-priest to make a copy?"

"The data slate is the property of the Death Korps" replied the Medicae "I was able to requisition it temporarily, but it will need to be returned"

"Understood" He replied "May i hold on to it until the morning, so that i can get it copied"

The Medicae was quiet for a time and then said "If that is considered appropriate in this regiment, then i have no objection to this course of action. I will return the recording tomorrow after you are done with it"

"Thank you" He said.

The men separated and went back to what they had been doing before, and the sergeant walked over to where Mulder was detaching the data slate.

"Will it do Aldert?" He asked

"Yes sir" replied Mulder "It was wonderful sir"

"Good" Rochus said " I'll go get it copied for you onto a fresh slate in the morning"

"Thank you sir" He replied and smiled.

The following morning it was quiet in the dugout. The men spent the time before their shift in their carapace. Just before their watch started Rochus heard shouting coming from outside in the trench. He hurried out with the men trailing behind him, and saw the guardsmen on watch pointing to the sky. Arcs of fire traced across the heavens and then disappeared over the horizon as ships passed through the atmosphere.

"They ain't landing near here" muttered Ottens "It looks like they're headed-"

"North" Said the Krieger "They appear to on a trajectory that will set them down near the northern front."

As Ottens glared at the Medicae for interrupting him and Rochus sighed quietly Kranz said "Well that's good innit. Means they aren't going to hit us"

"Yet" Said Rochus "It means they aren't going to hit us yet. They'll hit the 457th seige first, and then if they break them, they'll come for us. Get everything packed up and be ready to move out I'd bet a years scrip that command'll order a push to try and join up with the 457th."

His prediction proved to be correct. That night the orders came down to make ready, in the morning they began the push through enemy territory to link up with the Death Korps 457th siege on the northern front. It was just over 60 klicks between them and the Death Korps regiment. They would reach them on the second day of the march, if enemy engagement did not slow their progress.A highly unlikely prospect considering that orbital imaging had shown they would have to cross the Xenos' defensive lines no less than three times.

That morning as they sallied forth the mood was grim. Without the chance to wear them down before hand or find a way to circumvent the Xenos' defenses an assault would be costly. Rochus looked to where the colonel was perched on his command Chimera fifteen yards away and wondered what the man was thinking. As he watched the officer looked through his scopes , and then a peculiar thing happened. He watched as the Colonel threw back his head and began to laugh.

"Unmanned" he overheard the Colonel say to someone in the Chimera "The fortifications are completely empty. I told you that force we crushed was the bulk of what they had left. They've pulled back.They mustn't have the men to try to hold their lines. Once we've crushed their reinforcements between us and the 457th up north the planet will be as good as ours"

Their advance was halted temporarily as they sent in teams to make certain there were no booby-traps, but they continued in short order when the teams returned with the all clear. They made excellent time, reaching the second emplacement before nightfall. They found it deserted, same as the first had been.

It worried Rochus. Sure the Colonel thought it meant they were pulling back their lines, reducing the amount of ground they had to defend because they were low on manpower, but that didn't make sense to him. They'd just watched the Xenos receive reinforcements. Some gut instinct told him this wouldn't be as simple as the Colonel thought it would.

That night they bivouacked in a copse of trees. Command didn't want to quarter the men in Xenos fortifications, even temporarily, so they dug themselves foxholes for the night rather than use what they had just passed by. They split off into pairs to work, and the sergeant buddied up with the Medicae. It didn't take them long to dig a hole big enough for the two of them, and the sergeant was pleased to discover that the Medicae had empty sandbags in his pack they were able to fill with what they dug out and place around the lip of the hole. He was informed that they were standard issue in Death Korps regiments. He had to wonder why he had never been issued any. They seemed dead useful.

When they were finished they hunkered down for the night. Over the top of the sandbags he could see the rest of the squad and the other members of the company disappearing into their own holes. He dropped back down and turned to the Krieger.

"You good to take first watch?" He asked. "Or would you rather have second?"

"I will take the first sir" the masked man responded.

"Understood" He said, and then tried to make himself comfortable as the Krieger moved to look over the lip of the sandbags. As he watched the Medicae it occurred to him, if all went well it wouldn't be long before the man left the squad. Once they joined up with the 457th the remnants of the 208th would rejoin their fellow Kriegers. Seemed a shame to loose him now when things were just starting to look up. After he had shared that opera with them several of the men, most notably Mulder, had warmed up to him considerably. As he settled in and made himself comfortable the Krieger spoke up.

"Sir" He said "Permission to speak freely?"

"Granted Trooper" He replied, somewhat confused by the sudden request.

"Thank you sir" Said the Krieger "For assisting me. I have spoken with other members of the 208th. Each of them has faced considerable difficulty compared to myself. I am aware of your efforts on my behalf, and i wish to thank you now in the event i do not receive another chance to do so."

"You're part of my squad" He replied after a moment of silence to process what had just happened. Once again the Krieger had surprised him. "I look after my own."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a while after that, before Rochus had a thought. If the Medicae was going to be leaving soon, this may be his last chance to get answers to the questions he had about Krieg. He decided to ask. He sat up a bit and turned to look at the man next to him in the foxhole.

"Medicae" He said "If it is alright i'd like to know what you meant when you said Colonel Jurten 'burned the sky', and what the long war was." The masked soldier didn't reply at first, and the sergeant worried he may have gone to far, but then the Krieger spoke.

"Yes sir, i would be willing to tell you" He said. He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts and then continued "As i said, Krieg was a rich world. Soft and decadent. In the 40th millennium the leaders of Krieg declared independence, renounced the emperor, and attempted to secede from the Imperium"

He fell silent after that. Rochus waited with him in silence as well, until he was able to continue speaking.

"We still bear the weight of their sins." The medicae said "And we will continue to do so until the record is washed clean with blood. Colonel Jurten was the commander of the 83rd Imperial Guard regiment, and the leader of the loyalists. Hopelessly outnumbered the Colonel chose to unleash forbidden archeotech weapons rather than surrender the planet to the rebels. When he used the bombs Krieg burned.The planets' surface was reduced to radioactive ash and the skies filled with poison clouds. The people of Krieg were forced to retreat under the planet's surface to survive. After the bombing we spent the next five hundred years purging the rebels and reclaiming the planet inch by inch. That was the long war."

"I see" He said quietly. He didn't know what to say after that. The pieces were starting to come together. The gas masks, the fanatical desire to die for the Emperor, it was beginning to make sense in a twisted sort of way. He found that he didn't have the desire to ask any more questions, and it seemed that the Krieger didn't have any more to offer, so he rolled over to sleep. He was just getting comfortable again when he heard the Medicae's dull monotone

"Sir" said the Medicae "Would you be willing to tell me about Batavi?"

"What?" He asked, uncertain he had heard clearly.

"Batavi sir" Replied the Krieger. "In this situation i believe that the appropriate thing for me to do is inquire about your home world. Is this not correct?"

"Well no, no your right, i just didn't expect that." the sergeant said."I guess i can tell you about Batavi if you want"

"Yes sir, that would be appreciated Sir." the other man in the foxhole responded. The sergeant nodded, though the other man wouldn't be able to see it, and thought for a moment before he answered the question.

"Same as any other hive world i suppose." He said after a bit of thought "The Arbites keep the those from the lower hive and the under hive from causing trouble for the upper hivers, and the PDF keeps the muties and the gangs from getting out of control if the Arbites can't. The manufactorums churn out goods for the Administratum, and each hive city gets tithed once a year for men or materials. I was born in the lower levels of Ultrecht-Hive, the largest hive on Batavi . Our Hab block was overpopulated and dirty, but it could have been worse. We had enough to eat when i was younger, and as long as you kept your head down you were safe."

"When did you begin military training?" Asked the Krieger

"I joined the PDF youth group when i was sixteen" He replied. Actually he had been fourteen, but he had been big enough to fake it and they had needed the money.

The Krieger turned and looked back at him "Your world waits that long to induct it's soldiers into training cadre?"

"Well yes. Actually i joined a bit younger than most do." He replied. "Why" he asked "When did you begin training?"

"I was four when i was inducted into a Death Korps juvenile training cadre" the man said as he turned back to watch.

"Four!" He exclaimed. He knew he'd been told they were raised to die for the emperor, but this just seemed absurd "And your parent's were fine with this?"

"Parents sir?" The medicae asked "I am unfamiliar with this term. Please elaborate."

"Your parents" He said. Throne, how could he not know what parents were? "The people who gave birth to you."

"Ah, you mean my progenitors" Said the Krieger "According to standard procedure i was separated from my female progenitor after weaning."

The sergeant stared, at a loss for words, as the Krieger continued to speak.

"You had contact with you progenitors?" Asked the medicae "Was this normal?"

"Yes" he replied finally "It is normal for people to have contact with their parents" He said laying stress on the the term. Every time the man said progenitor it made him shiver.

"For what purpose?"He heard him ask.

"Typically" He responded slowly, unable to believe he had to say this "parents care for, teach, and raise their children"

"Is that not the purpose of Juvenile instructors?" Asked the Krieger.

"We do have teachers as well" He said "But children are cared for and raised primarily by their families."

"Families" The krieger said slowly "Is this a synonym for parents?"

"No" He said beginning to grow exasperated by the conversation. "It is a group of people who are related, that usually live together."

"So it is like a squad" Said the Krieger. "We were not assigned to squads until we graduated from the training cadre into a provisional regiment"

Rochus was finished with this conversation. "We're done" He said "I need to sleep"

"Understood sir" Said the medicae "I will wake you when it is time for your watch"

He grunted a response and closed his eyes. What seemed like moments later the Krieger was shaking him awake. In silence they traded places, the Krieger lying down and the sergeant getting up to peer over the edge of the sandbags. To his surprise the night was uneventful. Nothing happened during his watch, and come morning the regiment was unmolested. He helped the Krieger empty out and stow away his sandbags, and then they gathered their kit and joined the rest of the men where the regiment was mustering to resume the march.

They moved quickly that morning, reaching the third and final of the defensive lines between themselves and their objective before midday. Like the other two before it the third line was vacant. That, not even the Colonel had expected. As they passed it he could see the outline of the earth-shakers in the distance. They were nearly there, but where were the Xenos? As they drew closer he saw that something was wrong, the outline of the cannons seemed distorted. Before much longer he could see it clearly. The artillery pieces had been destroyed. Their barrels were melted and slagged or broken off, and the pillboxes made to house autocannons and bolters looked like they'd had big chunks burned out of them. There was no sign of the 457th. They were gone.

"Emperor preserve us" Said Pender.

Command called for a halt, and then ordered Alpha company in to reconnoiter. The men of Alpha approached the trench like they were expecting to get lit up any moment, but they made it without being attacked. Silently the Lieutenant signaled with his hands for squads to break off and search the trenches.

About five minutes after they had broken off from the rest they found the first body. It was a grenadier, who was missing half of his face. A hole had been blown through his head, and they could see the white of bone and little bits of flesh peeking out from behind his ruined mask. More disturbing than the wound that killed him, was the fact that the trooper had been eviscerated. Something had torn great bloody chunks out of his torso, leaving the severed ends of his guts spilling down across his lap.

He heard Gelen curse as he asked the medicae quietly"You've been fighting the Xenos longer Trooper, have you ever seen something like that?"

"No sir" Replied the Krieger "In the three years we have fought the Tau for this planet i have never seen this."

He nodded and then whispered to the men "Keep moving."

As they continued further into the trench network the bodies grew more numerous, which was bizarre to him. Normally you would expect there to be more bodies closer to the front. Looking at the distribution of the corpses Rochus tried to picture the battle in his mind. The only thing that made sense was troopers rushing back from the front in response to an attack from behind or inside the lines.

As they continued to move forward they drew close to what would have been regiment command. Here, the trenches were carpeted with the dead. Some had holes burned out of them. Some had been blown to bits. Many of the carcasses had great gashes in their flesh or appeared to have been shot with conventional projectile weapons rather than the energy guns he had seen the Tau employ in the last engagement.

Every so often they would pass a corpse with chunks of flesh missing like the first one they had seen. There were guardsmen with chunks missing from their thighs. Guardsmen whose heads had been split open and their brains scooped out. He passed a pile of bones that appeared to have been gnawed on and cracked open to get at the marrow. The trench had become a charnel house

To the men's credit if the grisly scene disturbed them they did not allow it to effect their performance. They were veterans, and this was not the first time they had seen such horrors. They moved with a detached professionalism, registering the bodies as they went but not allowing them to distract them from observing their surroundings for signs of the enemy.

"Mulder get on the Vox" He said "Let them know we've found no survivors and have not encountered any Xenos, then request further orders"

Mulder got on the Vox and relayed the message, and then they waited. The other squads reported the same. The trench was quiet as the grave, and there was nothing but corpses.

Rather than turn back and spend the night in the open trying to return to their previous position, the Colonel ordered the regiment into the trenches. A work detail was created to dig a mass grave, and men spent the afternoon dragging out the bodies of the slain son's of Krieg to be buried en mass while the regiments engineers tried to make their position more defensible. Rochus shared his observation with lieutenant Gossens that the Death Korps regiment did not appear to have been assaulted from the front. Most of Alpha companies sergeants had had similar thoughts. These observations were kicked up the chain of command to the Colonel, who ordered a watch be placed on all sides, and that they be made ready to repel an assault from the front and the rear.

Rochus and his men took their turn on watch in the evening as the day turned to dusk and then dusk gave way to the night. When they were relieved Rochus was tired enough not to care too much that he would be sleeping in a dead man's bunk, he just needed to rest. They had been assigned to a small bunker for the night. Once they were inside their temporary barrack he began to remove his body armor and was getting ready to turn in for the night when the Krieger approached him.

"Sir may i wake the men for a morning stand-to?" Asked the Medicae.

"A what?" He said. He'd never heard of a 'morning stand-to'.

"A stand-to-arms sir." replied the masked man "the probability of an enemy attacking a trench under cover of darkness prior to the dawn is regarded by Death Korps officer's to be high. Therefore, in the Death Korps, it was standard procedure that each morning the regiment 'stand-to' an hour before dawn and be prepared to repel an attack."

"Why haven't you mentioned this before?" He asked

"This is not a Death Korps regiment." the Krieger said "and as you have said standing orders here are different. Therefore i accepted that there was not a morning stand-to. However, as we are currently occupying a position that has previously been overrun by the enemy, i believe it prudent to take all possible precautions."

Rochus mulled it over in his head for a minute. The men wouldn't like it, getting kicked out of their bunks early to go stand around and wait. But if he explained it to them, they would do it, even if they grumbled a bit. He decided to follow the Krieger's suggestion.

"Gents" He said "We're gonna get up a bit early tomorrow. When the medicae comes round in the morning to wake you get up and get your gear together. Word is the Xenos might attack around dawn, and i want us to be ready"

Most of the men just nodded or said "yes sir" before retiring to their bunks. Otten and corporal Hanraath however approached him.

"You sure that's wise sir?" asked Hanraath "we won't be getting much sleep."

"We can go back to the barrack sleep in the morning when the 'stand-to' is done before we go back on watch" He replied "Besides, it's not like this will be the first time the men have gone without. They'll manage."

Haanrath nodded and then left, and Otten trailed off behind him. With the rest of the men settling in Rochus made his way to his own bunk, and laid down to sleep. Needed to get as much as he could before the morning "Stand-to" after all.

He got a few hours sleep before the medicae woke him. He rolled out of the bunk and reached for his gear. Around him the rest of the men grabbed their kit, and when they were all ready they stumbled out of the bunker groggily and followed the medicae to the trench's fire step. The men on watch eyed them curiously, and the sergeant looked at Rochus and raised an eyebrow when he joined him on the step.

"Don't ask" He said.

It was cold and dark. Fog had moved in while he was asleep and the air was wet. The sun wasn't up yet, and between the darkness and the fog he couldn't see a thing. He began to see the Krieger's point. He could easily understand how an enemy could launch a sneak attack before the regiment could be roused, even with men on watch. Looking out into the fog he imagined he saw shadowy shapes moving in the darkness. He knew it was probably nothing, just his over active imagination, but his gut was telling him not to ignore it.

"Gelen" He said quietly "Run and rouse the lieutenant. Tell him i think he should get alpha ready."

The trooper's face was pale and he had bags under his eyes. He nodded and the stepped off of the step into the mud at the bottom of the trench and ran off into the fog.

"Mulder" He whispered "Get on the vox and call for a flare." If the Xenos were out there in the fog, they would already know where the regiment was. You couldn't exactly give away the position of a trench. If they were there, the flares would reveal them, and if they weren't well then at worst he'd get a slap on the wrist.

He heard Mulder whispering urgently into the mic, and he looked up over the lip of the trench and waited. He heard the thump as a mortar fired a star shell into the sky. As the burning light ascended into the sky it illuminated the no mans land in front of him, revealing the tall long limbed aliens that had been creeping towards them.

"Incoming" He shouted as the Xenos raised a ululating battle cry and charged.
He grabbed at his bolt pistol and snapped off a shot over the lip of the trench at the mass of Xenos. The aliens were densely packed and close enough that it hit one, blowing a chunk out of it's hip as the projectile detonated. They were big ugly things, perhaps half a head taller than even Rochus, and as many as two heads taller than the rest of the men in the squad. Rather than run like a man they skipped and hopped towards the trench, their long wiry legs propelling them forward in leaps and bounds. It reminded Rochus of watching a bird hopping on the ground. Their skin was greenish brown and leathery, and they had elongated heads that ended in massive beak like jaws. They carried long weapons that ended with a rifle butt on one end and sprouted scything blades at the other, which they brandished in the air as they ran howling at the guardsmen.

They ate up the ground at an absurd pace, covering the remaining distance in seconds. He drew his chainsword and thumbed it to life shouting "Bayonets! Form ra-" but they were upon them before he could finish giving the order.

His face was sprayed with arterial life blood as the man next to him, the sergeant of the other squad, caught a blade to the throat. The man was nearly beheaded by the blow, and the corpse fell to the ground with it's head hanging on by a scrap of flesh and lolling to the side.



He raised his blade overhead and deflected a slash meant to end his life before shooting the alien point blank with his pistol, reducing the Xeno's torso to a fine mist and small chunks of gore that splattered onto the sergeant and a few of the aliens. Next to him the men rallied and formed a bristling line of bayonet points.The enemy crashed into them, and though several were impaled they broke the guardsmen's formation, and the fight devolved into a chaotic melee.

He caught an alien in a backhanded swing and lopped of it's arm at the elbow. As it screeched and recoiled in pain Kranz stabbed it in the chest with his bayonet, sinking the blade up to the hilt in the Xenos' torso. He watched as a second Xenos leaped at Kranz, his shout of warning dying on his lips as the alien grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him closer before biting down on where his neck met his shoulder. Piet screamed for a second, and then fell silent as the monstrous alien snapped it's jaws shut and tore a fist sized chunk out of him. As the alien raised it's head from Kranz's corpse and dropped the body to the ground Rochus screamed and buried his chainsword between it's eyes, bisecting it's skull.

A sudden blow from the side knocked him sprawling to the ground and his chainsword slipped from his hand. He rolled over and looked up to see the Xenos that had struck him with the but of it's weapon swinging it around over it's head in preparation to bring the curved blade down on him.



He reached desperately for his chainsword, but he knew he wouldn't reach it in time. On instinct he threw up his arm, futile as it may be, but the blade never came down. The medicae tackled the Xenos and dragged the whirring blade of his reductor across its stomach disemboweling it. Its steaming guts slipped from the gaping wound and coiled at it's feet as the carcass fell backwards.

His hand closed around the hilt of his sword, and he slashed as he rose to his knees and cut through a nearby Xenos leg at the thigh before it could slash Otten. Clawing his way to his feet he knocked aside a swinging scythe. They were being pushed back off the step into the trench proper, leaving behind the bodies man and Xenos alike. It looked like his squad had made it for the most part. The protection provided by their carapace had kept the men intact. Kranz was gone, and Ramaaker had a nasty gash on his right arm, but they were still standing and were beginning to regroup. The other troopers had not been so fortunate. The Xenos blades had parted their flack jackets with ease, and only one was still left.

They were surrounded by Xenos, and more poured into the trench behind them. Hopelessly outnumbered Rochus was certain they wouldn't last much longer. Intent on taking as many with him as he could he raised his blade and shouted "Ave Imperator". Taking his chainsword in both hands he began to trade blows with one of the aliens. This alien was taller and paler than the others, and the feathers sprouting from the back of his head were decorated with brightly colored ornaments.

Before either of them could strike the decisive blow a red bolt flew in from the side and burned a hole in the aliens skull. He looked over to see Lieutenant Goossens and Trooper Gelen with most of Alpha behind them in various states of undress. But though not all were in full carapace, all were armed.

"Charge" roared the lieutenant, and they ran screaming at the aliens.



The men of alpha crashed into the Xenos in a wave of flesh and steel. Caught between lieutenant Goossens' force and Rochus' squad the aliens were crushed. A few tried to flee, but they were gunned down as they ran. As the last Xenos fell Rochus turned to count his squad. Fortunately they had taken no further casualties, and the Krieger was seeing to Ramaaker's arm. His squad accounted for he jogged over to lieutenant Goossens

"Well Rochus you were right" Said Goossens "I was ready to take it out of your hide when your man got me out of my bunk, but you were right"

"Can't take credit sir" replied sergeant Brinkerhoff "It was my medicae who suggested the possibility"

The lieutenant nodded and hummed before saying "Well i suppose a Krieger would know about trench warfare. We'll have to see if they know anything else useful." Goossens trailed off and looked down at the corpses, and though he wasn't saying anything Rochus could see his mouth moving as he counted silently to himself. His brow was drawn down in concentration, and he was frowning slightly.

"Is something wrong sir" Rochus asked.

"I only count forty Xenos." He muttered "Even if i missed a few, that's hardly enough to kill a whole regiment. Why waste soldiers in an attack like this?"

"I don't think it was meant to come to an open confrontation sir" sergeant Brinkerhoff replied "When the flare went up they were nearly on us. A moment more and i think they may have killed us all and got behind our lines before we had time to raise the alarm."

"An infiltration team then" The lieutenant said slowly with the same look of concentration on his face

"Yes sir, it would seem that way sir, but they failed obviously" Rochus said.

"Tell me sergeant" replied Goosens "If it were you would you send only one team?"



The looked at each other for a moment before Rochus said "No, impossible. We made enough racket the whole regiment must be up and on alert. If there was another team then we'd hear the fighting, or someone would have Voxed it in."

"Not if they were killing them fast enough" Said the lieutenant "Not if they were killing them before they could fight back or call it in."

They shared another look, and Rochus felt his gut sinking as he realized the lieutenant was right. Forty odd Xenos moving quickly through the trenches would be able to effectively silence any men they came across as they stumbled out of their dugouts half awake and unsuspecting of enemy combatants already behind their lines.

Rochus had already turned and started running towards his men when he heard Goossens start shouting for men to go secure the motor pool, to check on their food stores, to rouse the rest of the regiment, and to check up and down the line to make sure no other aliens got through. Rochus's squad and one other were assigned to secure the regimental command bunker.

They ran as best they could in the muddy confines of the trench. When they were about a hundred yards out from the command bunker, they saw the first body. He shouted for Mulder to call it in over the Vox and then picked up the pace. There were Xenos inside the lines.



They ran down the zig-zagging trenches and rounded the final corner. A group of the Xenos were standing watch in front of the entrance to the bunker that doubled as regimental command and the colonel's quarters. The men shouted and opened fire with their hell-guns. Caught in the open the aliens were mowed down by the hell-gun fire. They ran closer, and Rochus could hear the sounds of fighting emanating from within the bunker

"In in in" The sergeant shouted and Otten and Pender ducked into the entrance before he ran in after them. As they emerged into the room there was a loud crack, and the back of Ottens skull was blown out all over his chest and the bottom half of his face, adding to the gore coating his body. Sidestepping the falling corpse he entered the room and trained his pistol on the first alien he saw. The ugly birdlike Xenos was standing over the colonel's slumped body. He shot it twice in the chest. The first shot of the double tap hit it dead center of mass, and blew open it's rib cage. The second shot hit it slightly higher and destroyed it's shoulder, severing it's arm from it's body when the bullet exploded.

In the confined space of the bunker the Aliens had eschewed the use of their longer weapons and fought with knives. He gunned down one more, and then the men engaged them with detached bayonets and trench knives and he was unable to get a clear shot. When the last Xenos was dead he stood in the blood soaked room. The colonel was clearly dead. The feathered hilt of a Xenos knife was protruding from between his ribs.

"Fek" said Pender. Rochus found he couldn't agree more. Fek. The colonel was dead. They had been too late.



It was a mess getting things sorted out in the aftermath. There had been two groups of Xenos that had made it behind their lines. Fortunately the second group had been intercepted before they reached the motor pool, so the regiment's armor was still intact. That morning when dawn broke over the horizon it cast it's light on men digging their second mass grave in as many days.The butchers bill for the attack was nearly half a companies worth of troopers.

He had sent two men to collect Kranz's body. They would need to collect his weapons and armor, and before the bodies were carted away to their final resting place he wanted the men to have a chance to pay their last respects. The regiment's priests would say their bit at the burial. There were too many dead for them to attend to each of the slain personally, so the squad prayed to the Emperor for Piet Kranz and Quirion Otten themselves before the corpse detail came and carried away their bodies.

The men were somber and quiet as they returned to their dugout. Rochus moved as if in a haze. Two more dead. Two more of his men killed right in front of him. It hadn't really hit him at first, it never did really hit him until after it was over and the bodies were being carried away. He knew he'd get over it and move on, he had in the past, but for the moment it was an open wound. Inside the dugout they boxed up the dead men's things, and Rochus selected a memento for each of them.

Kranz had loved to play Regicide. Most of the men didn't care for it, but Rochus had indulged him a few times even though he knew he couldn't beat the man from Assen-hive. He added the small fold up set to the box. To remember Otten he grabbed a worn paperback book that the man had carried with him for as long as he'd known him. Quirion must have read it hundreds of times, but he'd still see him thumbing through it every now and again. The book joined the other odds and ends, and then he closed up the box.



Rochus found he didn't care to try and go back to sleep after what had happened, and it seemed niether did the rest of the men. Mulder hooked up his copy of the Krieger opera and Pender broke out the moonshine. He reminded the men that they had the watch in a few hours, and they kept the drinking to a minimum. Just a bit to take the edge off as they listened to the man and the woman singing in the foreign tongue of Krieg and played a hand of cards. They all pointedly avoided speaking about the two men who were missing, or looking at their bunks. After half a glass of the product of Penders' still and a winning hand Rochus felt mostly human again. Noticing the Krieger sitting off to the side alone he motioned for the man to join them.

"Come on" He said "Play cards with us"

The Krieger nodded and walked over to where they were sitting in a circle and plopped down next to the sergeant. "What is the purpose of this activity?" He asked.

"It's gambling" said Rochus " You each offer up something as collateral, and then you play the game. The winner takes the items or money staked by the other players."

"How is the winner determined?" Asked the soldier

"Well each man is dealt cards, and then when they have their cards they choose whether or not to bet. In the end, the man with the best cards wins" He responded

The Krieger looked at the cards in his hand and then at the regimental scrip and lho-sticks that had gone into the pot before saying bluntly "This seems like a pointless activity."

"The point is that it's fun" He said. The medicae looked at him, and he was sure if he could see behind the mask he would see an expression of incredulity. Time to try a different tactic "It helps keep up moral"

"Then as my moral is not in need of improvement i need not participate" said the masked man as he got up to leave the circle



He blinked twice and then sighed and let the man go. The masked soldier grabbed his weapon and then walked out of the dugout. He'd probably be there waiting for them when they started their watch. It wouldn't be the first time he went ahead and spent his free time at the front. Emperor save him from Kriegers he thought as he turned back to the game.

"S'not like he coulda played anyway sarge" said Ramaaker after a moment before throwing in a pack of lho-sticks. "least ways not without taking that mask off, and i don't think i've ever seen him without it."

"I don't think he ever takes it off" Said Gelen as he snorted and folded. The stocky ebony haired man had been cleaned out on the last hand, and he was playing it safe now. "I'd bet he slept in it if i ever saw him sleeping. Seem's like he's always awake when i turn in and up before i get out of bed"

The conversation moved on after that, as the men turned back to the game and continued betting, but the idea got stuck in Rochus' head. He'd never seen under the medicae's mask. It hadn't really bothered him before, and he hadn't thought too much about it, but now that it had occurred to him it seemed bizarre that after all this time he still had no idea what the man looked like. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just his mind latching on to this new distraction, but he was suddenly intensely curious. He decided to make sure the medicae ate with them today. He always seemed to slip off around meal times, but this time Rochus would insist they ate as a squad, and he would have to take off his mask to eat.

Satisfied with his solution, the sergeant turned his thoughts back to the card game. About halfway through the next hand a trooper who wasn't part of the squad entered the dugout. Rochus rose to his feet and turned to face him.

"New orders for you sir" Said the trooper as he saluted "Major Junkheer has ordered the watch doubled. Your squad is to report immediately."



Major Junkheer had been been Colonel Koning's second in command, and had apparently succeeded him. It was equally apparent that he didn't want to go the way of his predecessor. Rochus returned the salute and said "Understood trooper. We'll report immediately"

The man nodded and then left. The sergeant turned around and walked over to were he had stowed his carapace. He'd wiped the worst of the blood and gore off of it earlier with a wet rag he'd used to clean off his face following the battle, but even though the plates were clean now he could still see them flecked with Otten's brain matter and splatters of blood from the troopers and aliens that had died around him. There was no helping it though, he couldn't report for duty out of his armor, so he pushed the images aside in his mind and reached for it. He'd long since become accustomed to donning carapace armor, and soon he was pulling on the last pieces.

When he was finished suiting up he turned to look at the room. The rest of the men were ready and waiting with their helmets held under their arms. The men looked tired. Most had bags under their eyes. Pender, who had a rather pronounced brow, seemed like his hazel eyes were sinking into his skull. Their hair was filthy. When they'd left to begin the push north they had done it the day before his squad's wash day, and they hadn't had a chance to clean up in more than a week. You could barely tell that Mulder was blonde, and Ramaaker's bright red mop had lost it's sheen. Yet despite having just fought a battle, and having been woken far earlier than they were accustomed to, his men stood straight and tall. All of them, from Corporal Haanrath who stood just shorter than Rochus, to the smallest man on the squad Alfons Eikenborn. They all stood before him ready to report for duty. It filled him with pride.

He lead the men out of the dugout and on to the front, where they found the Krieger waiting for them, and they took up their positions.



Soon after they arrived Lieutenant Goossens came and delivered their orders. They were to remain on watch for the remainder of the day. Another squad would relieve them in the evening so they could rest and get some sleep, and then they needed to be in their carapace and back on the firing step before first light. The men grumbled a bit, but they knew there was no helping it.

The morning was long. At frequent intervals he'd use a parascope to look out over the top of the trench and see if there was any movement, but as the hours dragged by he didn't see a single sign of Xenos activity. He would make periodic rounds and nudge men at their posts, signalling them to get up and switch places with another member of the squad to keep them awake. Being caught sleeping on watch was a serious violation of regulations, and he didn't want any of his remaining men getting put up against the wall by the regiment's Commissar. Doing rounds to check on the men had the added benefit of keeping him awake as well.

At noon when the sun was directly overhead they were temporarily relieved so that they could eat. Since they were eating here right next to their post he didn't even have to insist the Krieger eat with them, he was already sitting down to do so on his own. He watched intently as the rest of the men pulled off their helmets and reached for their MREs. The Medicae's hand delved into his pack, and emerged carrying two small foil packages. Rectangles to be precise. As the rest of the men opened up their MREs the Krieger pulled back the foil revealing two chalky looking off-white bars. He watched as the Krieger reached up and grasped at the bottom of his mask. He leaned in a bit, and he noticed Mulder and Eikenborn doing the same. The Medicae took the edge of his mask firmly in hand and pulled it up just enough to smuggle one of the bars under it into his mouth. It lifted just high enough for him to see the Krieger's lower jaw, but no more than that.



His jawline was smooth, and a lot narrower than Rochus had expected. The mask made his face seem a lot thicker than it was. The sight of his slim hairless jawline convinced Rochus of his earlier assumptions. The Medicae was younger than them. Considerably younger.

As the Krieger dropped his mask back down and started to chew Alfons' face fell and Pender threw back his head and cackled when he saw his expression. Eikenborn's face colored and he whipped around, but before he could say anything Rochus attempted to defuse the situation by pointing at the greyish bars sitting in front of the Krieger and quickly asking in a loud voice " What are those medicae?"

"These are my rations sir" Said the masked man. By now the sergeant was beginning to detect slight fluctuations in the Krieger's monotone, or maybe he was just imagining things, but it seemed to him that the Krieger sounded confused by his question.

"Well yes i can see that" He replied "but what are they?"

"Ration bars sir" said the Medicae "An efficient processed source of nutrition that contains all the proteins, carbohydrates,vitamins and minerals the body requires. The bars are compacted prior to packaging so that they do not take up unnecessary room in a guardsmen's pack, and they keep indefinitely. These qualities make them an ideal ration".



During this little speech the men had all stopped eating and turned to look at the Krieger. They were silent for a moment, and then Corporal Haanrath looked down at the gluey noodles and mysterious meat byproduct that had come from his MRE. He looked back up and said "I never thought i'd see or hear of anything less appealing than a MRE."

"How can you eat that?" asked Ramaaker as his lips curled in disgust

"It fulfills my dietary requirements" Replied the masked man

"Is that all you eat?" Asked Rochus

"No" Replied the Medicae "However it is not possible to consume regular rations without removing my mask, which is part of my uniform. I cannot be out of uniform while we are on duty. I would ordinarily consume liquid rations through the access port built into my mask, but i have run out of liquid rations. Ration bars are the next best alternative, as i can consume them easily without fully removing my gas mask"

"What's it taste like?" Asked Gelen, his eyes alight with curiosity.

"It is difficult to describe" responded the Krieger "The ration is sweetened to aid consumption, however there is a distinctive after taste. If you wish you may sample one"

"I think i will" said Koenraad with a grin on his face.



The men leaned in as he sliced off a sliver from the bar with his knife. Gelen made a show of it. Striking a dramatic pose he lifted the morsel slowly into the air above his head in an exaggerated arc before tipping his head back and dropping it into his open mouth. He went around the circle looking each man in the eye as he slowly chewed it before swallowing.

"That's not half bad" He said "Don't know what you are talking about, i'm not getting any after taste" When he finished speaking he took a pull from his canteen, and then his face screwed
They all laughed for a bit after that. Even Gelen joined in. The only one who didn't laugh was the Krieger. After the laughter had died down they quickly shoveled their food into their mouths. They knew they would have to go back on watch soon and if they didn't finish eating before then, then that was their problem.

Pender bent over and pulled the ration close to his lips. He moved his utensil in a rhythmic fashion, continuously shoving food into his mouth. The man ate so fast it looked like he was practically inhaling it. Ramaaker had tipped his head back and was letting gravity do his work for him and slide the ration down into his gullet. Mulder and Gelen ate at a slightly more reserved pace. They remained upright and took the time to chew a bit before swallowing. Albeit their jaws worked frantically. Eikenborn started out eating normally, but after a moment decided to emulate Pender and raised the ration up to his face.

Of them all the Krieger was the only one who wasn't hurried. He would calmly grab a bar with one hand, grasp the edge of his mask with the other, and then pull it up just enough to slip the bar under it just as he had before. He repeated this process five times before the ration bars had been fully consumed, and then sat and waited as the rest of the men finished up with their MREs. Rochus watched him do this out of the corner of his eye as he ate his ration, hoping that the mask would get a little higher and he might see a bit more of the boy's face, but he didn't get his wish. He saw no more of the Medicae's face than his narrow jawline, but he did see the jagged edge of a lock of greasy blonde hair peeking out from behind the boy's jaw. It was better than nothing he supposed.

When they had finished up with their meal they returned to their posts. The afternoon dragged on just like the morning had. When the time arrived for the evening meal they didn't have the energy to do much more than eat in silence.


 up in a grimace "Ugh, there it is. That's absolutely foul". As his face contorted the men hooted in laughter.

"Yes" Said the Krieger "As i said it is distinctive, however if you do not drink for a time after consumption you can avoid the worst of it"

"Why didn't you warn me before i drank then?" asked the grimacing guardsmen.

The Krieger looked him straight in the face and said in a completely level monotone "You said you wished to experience the taste. I did not wish to deprive you of the experience"



They all laughed for a bit after that. Even Gelen joined in. The only one who didn't laugh was the Krieger. After the laughter had died down they quickly shoveled their food into their mouths. They knew they would have to go back on watch soon and if they didn't finish eating before then, then that was their problem.

Pender bent over and pulled the ration close to his lips. He moved his utensil in a rhythmic fashion, continuously shoving food into his mouth. The man ate so fast it looked like he was practically inhaling it. Ramaaker had tipped his head back and was letting gravity do his work for him and slide the ration down into his gullet. Mulder and Gelen ate at a slightly more reserved pace. They remained upright and took the time to chew a bit before swallowing. Albeit their jaws worked frantically. Eikenborn started out eating normally, but after a moment decided to emulate Pender and raised the ration up to his face.

Of them all the Krieger was the only one who wasn't hurried. He would calmly grab a bar with one hand, grasp the edge of his mask with the other, and then pull it up just enough to slip the bar under it just as he had before. He repeated this process five times before the ration bars had been fully consumed, and then sat and waited as the rest of the men finished up with their MREs. Rochus watched him do this out of the corner of his eye as he ate his ration, hoping that the mask would get a little higher and he might see a bit more of the boy's face, but he didn't get his wish. He saw no more of the Medicae's face than his narrow jawline, but he did see the jagged edge of a lock of greasy blonde hair peeking out from behind the boy's jaw. It was better than nothing he supposed.

When they had finished up with their meal they returned to their posts. The afternoon dragged on just like the morning had. When the time arrived for the evening meal they didn't have the energy to do much more than eat in silence.


They remained at their posts until the sun began to set. The men's eyes were drooping, and he saw Ramaaker reach down for his snuffbox and take a hit of the stimulant he kept in it to stay awake. When their watch was over they then stood on the firing step with the rest of the men for the newly instituted nightly stand-to until after the sun had descended beyond the horizon and it was well and truly night. When they were finally released to their bunks for the night he could hear Eikenborn muttering quiet thanks to the Emperor for their deliverance.

They stumbled back to their dugout, and when they got there the men barely paused to strip off their armor before falling into their bunks. Rochus flopped onto his cot and closed his eyes. He heard one of the men shuffling around, and then the light snuffed out. He heard a few more footsteps heading towards the exit and then the dugout fell silent. Whoever hit the lights must have had his bunk near the entrance he thought and he settled in to sleep.

However despite his weariness sleep eluded him. He tossed and he turned in his bunk. He felt grimy, and even though he knew he had wiped it off he could imagine the sticky feeling of semi-congealed blood on his face and neck where the other sergeant's arterial spray had hit him on the firing step. He felt like the gore had gotten into his skin. He needed to clean up, to scrub himself raw so he could feel clean again, but their wash day wasn't for another two days.

'Although' he thought to himself 'at this time of night everyone is either asleep, on watch, or on a night work detail. The showers are probably empty. I could pop over and have a quick wash, and then hurry back and get to sleep. As long as i don't get caught by the Commissar it'd be fine, and it's not like he's gonna be watching the showers. If he's awake he'll be doing rounds, keeping an eye on the men on duty.'

He nodded to himself, his decision made, and quietly got up and grabbed his towel.
He moved through the dugout as quietly as he could. He didn't want to wake the men. As he moved past each bunk he would stop for a second and look to make sure he hadn't roused them from their slumber. He made it out without incident, but when he passed by the Krieger's bunk he noted that it was empty. The Medicae wasn't in the dugout. He shook his head in the darkness. 'Crazy Krieger' he thought to himself. If he passed the boy on his way to the shower he would order him back to the dugout to get some sleep.

He hurried through the trenches towards the showers. It was a bit of a walk, but he made good time. Fortunately this trench network had been made by the Death Korps just like the one they had occupied before, and as such had the same layout, so he knew where he was going and didn't have to waste any time looking for it. The trenches were empty. He didn't pass anyone on his walk, and was able to stick to the duckboards since there was no one to crowd him off into the mud.

He arrived at the bunker that housed the regiment's showers and stepped into the changing room. As he stripped off his fatigues he could hear a shower running. Looking around he saw a neatly folded great coat sitting on a bench across the room. On top of the coat were a gas mask, a Death Korps helmet, and a Medicae's reductor. Sitting on the ground next to the coat, leaning against the bench, was a medikit. Stenciled on the side of the bag was DKK 208th 1G 4S QM 7-0-9. He recognized it. That was his Medicae's bag.

'Huh' He thought as he stripped off his pants 'looks like the kid had the same idea i did.' He smiled as he left the changing room and walked into the showers. It looked like he'd get to see what the Medicae's face looked like today after all.



As he stepped into the shower he saw the Medicae standing under a spray of water facing away from him. The first thing he noticed was the Krieger's hair. The Medicae's fingers were threading through their blonde locks working up a lather, and the motion drew his attention to it before anything else. The Medicae had thick blonde hair that was cut to about jaw length. The ends were uneven. The Krieger's hair looked like someone had taken a knife to it and sawed off the extra until it was at the desired length.

His eyes followed the motion of the Medicea's hands to their arms. They were slim, but he could see their well developed muscles moving under the skin as they coiled and uncurled, moving the Krieger's hands back and forth and up and down over their skull. Next his eyes followed the Medicae's arms down to where they met the Krieger's shoulders. The Medicae's shoulders were much narrower than he'd expected. The Medicae looked rather dainty now that he saw them out of their armor and great coat. He'd known the Krieger was shorter than him and most of the other men on the squad, but he'd expected more bulk even if they were an adolescent.



His gaze slid down the Krieger's back. Their torso gathered in around the waist before flaring out into round full-bodied hips. His mind stopped then for a fraction of a second before he processed what he had just seen. Wait wait wait, hips? Nice curvy feminine hips? A round tightly muscled derriere? Long shapely legs?

He must have made some sound when he entered the shower, because as the truth began to dawn on him the Krieger whipped around to face him. Oh sweet God Emperor the Medicae had tits. They were modest, far from the largest he'd seen, but they were definitely not small. The Krieger's breasts were full and rounded and gloriously perky. It really hit him then. By the Golden Throne, the Medicae was a woman! A woman with tits and hips and the best ass he had ever seen. A woman who was standing in front of him naked and wet and glistening. A woman who was saying something.

He tore his eyes up to her face. Her jawline was slim and elegant and she had high cheekbones. It was apparent that her nose had been broken at least once before, possibly multiple times, but even still she had a very pretty face, Perhaps not classically beautiful, but pretty nonetheless. Her grey eyes opened wide with surprise and when her full lips moved and she spoke her voice trembled.

“Sergeant?" she said quietly the question plain in her voice "What are you doing here?”



She was clearly distressed. The signs were subtle, but they were there. He could see the fear in her eyes. He wouldn't have thought a Krieger could show that much emotion before today. Of course before today he never thought he'd meet a female Krieger either. In the back of his mind he thought that if he were in her position, an attractive female who'd had a large naked man barge in on them while they were showering alone in the night, he'd probably be pretty afraid too. He needed to handle this carefully, and tactfully.

So of course when he opened his mouth what came out was an exclamation of “What in the Emperor's name is this?”

A pained looked crossed the Krieger's face and she stepped closer to him and said “Please Sir, I can explain”

“Explain what” he bit back “why one of my men has breasts and I didn't know about it?”

He knew this wasn't the way to handle it, that this wasn't helping anything. His mind was screaming at him to stop, but his mouth was running on it's own and dragging him along for the ride.



He couldn't keep himself from looking down after he mentioned her breasts, and a drop of water running along her chest caught his attention. He watched it slide across her right breast and continue down between them. His eyes followed it as it ran along the taut skin of her stomach to her naval, and then he caught himself and pulled his eyes up before they roamed any further.

He was painfully aware that this was the first time he had been alone with a woman in more than a year. The first time since the regiment's old commissar had bought it leading a charge against some dug in cultists and his replacement had cracked down on troopers seeing Joygirls. He hadn't been this close to a naked woman since then, and he couldn't help but be aware that the Medicae was a very attractive woman. Other parts of his anatomy were rapidly becoming aware of her as well. He needed to get out of here. Now.

He wheeled about and stepped towards the exit. It didn't make sense. Why hadn't he known? Why hadn't he been told? There was no reason for Goossens to have kept this from him. The Lieutenant wouldn't have kept this from him, unless...

She grabbed him and held him fast. "Please sir, please don't report me" the Medicae said in a small voice.

Unless the Lieutenant hadn't known.



He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Oh throne he shouldn't be doing this. "You said you could explain" He said in as level a tone as he could manage "Please do so."

"yes sir, right away sir" She said, returning to her normal monotone. His eyes flicked over against his volition. She had still made absolutely no attempts to cover herself or hide her nudity. It seemed that modesty was a foreign concept to her. In retrospect he suspected her distress had been because he had discovered her gender, rather than the fact that he had intruded on her in the shower. He suspected her reaction would have been much the same if she had been fully clothed and all he had seen was her face. Still, just because she didn't know she should cover herself and apparently had no problem standing in front of him naked didn't mean he wasn't taking advantage of her by looking. He fixed his eyes on the ceiling as he listened to her explanation.

"When i was an infant the Administratum ordered the formation of a mixed gender regiment to serve as a long term garrison on a fortress world." She began "Both genders in my creche were inducted into the training program. I preformed very well. I scored highest in my training cadre on tests for memory, hand eye coordination, and fine motor control. It was determined that i would receive further training as preparation to serve as a Quartermaster, and i began to have additional sessions with the Ministorum priest in charge of our cadre's religious instruction."



She paused and took a breath before continuing "However shortly before we completed our initial training and were to graduate to our provisional regiments the order was rescinded. As the formation of a mixed gender regiment was no longer necessary, Command ordered the female members of our training cadre be transferred to the recruitment program. I did not know how to respond to this. I had been told i was born to die for the Emperor. To be a finger in the Emperor's fist was my purpose. I did not know what to do when it was denied to me. I reported my failing to the priest who had instructed me, informing him that my faith was not strong enough to accept the will of the Emperor as communicated to me by my superiors, and submitted myself to him for punishment."

"Rather than reprimand me he asked what i would be willing to risk in order to serve the Emperor. When i told him i would willingly give my life, he offered me a chance. He altered the records to show that there was an additional male trainee. By disguising my gender behind my uniform i was able to serve. He informed me that if i was discovered i would likely be executed, and that if i was not i would be mistreated and then ejected dishonorably from the Korps, but i would not be deterred. With the help of the priest i entered a provisional regiment, which survived and was selected for the honor of fighting for the Emperor. We shipped out first to Kranadok, then here to Planetoid 14412567 alpha, and i have served the Emperor as Quartermaster, and now as Medicae"



Having finished she fell silent. It took him a while to process what the Krieger had told him. He was stunned honestly. That she could have gone this long without detection seemed like a miracle, but she had, and now he needed to figure out what to do next. Technically, he should report this. She had enlisted under false pretenses, and there was probably a regulation against that somewhere, but that seemed pointless. She had made it this far, and was a perfectly fine soldier. She was a good medic, and had been a valuable addition to the squad.

His regiment may not have been mixed gender, but he'd heard of mixed gender regiments. He was given to understand there were quite a few. The Krieger could soldier even if she had different plumbing, and If he reported her she'd be gone. The mental image of a Commissar putting the Medicae up against a wall and pressing a bolt pistol to her head decided it for him. She was part of his squad, and Rochus Brinkerhoff looked after his own. As long as nobody found out then there would be no harm done. The rest of the men didn't know, so it couldn't effect squad moral or performance. He'd just keep the Medicae's secret, and things could continue as they had been for the most part.

"To the best of my knowledge" He said slowly "There is no regulation against women serving in a Batavi regiment. I see no reason to report this, and no reason we can't just keep this between us."

"Thank you sir" the Krieger said and released her hold on his arm, and then she spoke up again "Sir, may i ask you a question?"



Out of habit he turned to face the Medicae without thinking first. "What?" He asked

As he turned she dropped down into a squat in front of him. Her face ended up inches from his enlarged member. As she lowered herself down she had spread her legs. Oh throne he could see everything. He felt his face heating up. Apparently unaware or uncaring of what she was showing him she cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips as she stared at his erection.

"What has happened to your genitals sir?" She asked "Is it a medical condition?"

She reached out a hand towards him, but he shoved it away. "It is a perfectly natural and healthy biological function" He said quickly "which we will not discuss. Now i really must be going"

As he turned and started to hurriedly walk away she said "Sir, did you not come here to use the showers? You have not yet washed, and there are many unoccupied showers you could use. I do not understand why you are leaving. There is more than enough room for both of us. Is something wrong?"

"I think i'll wait till wash day after all" He called back over his shoulder. There was no way he was going back in there with her now, not after that last display. "Goodbye Medicae"

He pulled on his pants as quickly as he could in the changing room, and ran out before even bothering to pull on his shirt.


He had trouble getting to sleep after he made it back to the dugout. While fortunately he was no longer imagining the phantom feeling of gore on his skin, unfortunately the sensations that had troubled him had been replaced with imaginings of a different but equally problematic nature. He struggled to banish them, but despite his best efforts the images would not leave him. He eventually fell asleep, but sleep did not provide release as the images followed him into his dreams. Therefore come morning he was tired, frustrated, and guilty. Along with the rest of the men he got up, geared up, ate quickly, and then headed for their post.

The first half of their watch that morning did nothing to improve his mood. It was cold, and the duckboards were slick. When he slipped and his foot landed in the mud at the bottom of the trench he sunk up past his ankles into the muck. Even though he understood the necessity it was tedious to sit around and stare out over the no-man's land beyond the trench. And as the icing on the cake whenever he would pass the Krieger's position on his rounds to look and see if the men were still awake he'd find himself staring at her backside and imagining what it had looked like without the Greatcoat obscuring it. It was ridiculous. He wasn't some hormonal Juvie. He shouldn't be acting like one just because he was hard up.

Rochus was grateful when they were relieved to eat lunch for the break in the monotony, though he wasn't much in the mood to socialize. He avoided eye contact and stayed silent as the men talked, and just concentrated on his food. He grimaced when he opened his MRE. He'd gotten "sausages" today as his main course. He looked at the withered cylinder of "meat" for a moment and debated eating it, before shrugging and popping it in his mouth. Food was food.

About halfway through the meal the Medicae suddenly turned to Haanrath and said. "Corporal, may i ask you a question?"

The Sergeant smiled. The Medicae was opening up to the squad and interacting with them. This was good, it meant that his efforts to integrate her were working.

"Well alright" replied the Corporal "What's the question?"

"I have observed that male genitalia are capable of growing considerably larger and becoming stiff such that rather than hang down they stand erect" Said the Medicae "However during my medical training we did not discuss this phenomena. Do you know why this happens? It happened last night, and i am concerned it may be an indication of the onset of an unknown medical condition"

Oh no no no, dear Emperor no. This was not good. He could feel his Jaw drop, and across the circle Eikenborn choked and shot his rum ration through his nose. Alfons clutched at his face and moaned.

"What?" Asked the stunned Corporal Haanrath

"I have observed that male ge-" The Krieger began to repeat before Haanrath cut her off

"I heard what you said" He said as he waved his hand in the air "it's just...how can you not know that?"

"As i said it was not covered during my medical education, or my instruction as a soldier." She replied.

It was quiet for a moment then Ramaaker said weakly "Soooo no one ever told you about what happens between a man and a woman. You know, sex?" As he spoke he made a circle with the pointer finger and thumb of his left hand, and then he poked his right pointer finger through it.

"I am not familiar with this word." said the Krieger "Is that the medical terminology for the phenomena which i described?"

"Well no" said Pender as he raised an eyebrow and looked over at Rochus "but it's definitely related"

It was at about this point that Gelen threw a meaty arm over the Kriegers armored shoulders and said loudly "Ah, our boy's becoming a man." As he wiped an imaginary tear from his eye he pulled the Medicae closer and then leaned in and said with a smile on his face "Don't worry lad, i'll tell you everything you need to know."



With one arm still around the Krieger Gelen took his other hand and waggled his pointer finger under the Medicae's gas masked nose.

"So the first thing you gotta understand is that it's gonna get hard sometimes" he began " and that's okay. It's supposed to do that, cause if it didn't get hard then you wouldn't be able to stick it into a woman"

The sergeant dropped his head into his hands. 'Oh this is terrible' he thought. His mind whirred. He needed to find a way to stop this, but he didn't want to get involved. 'Maybe i'll just let Koenraad explain it' he thought to himself 'I mean how bad could it be?' While he agonized over what to do Gelen paused to take a breath before continuing , and the Medicae interjected.

"Trooper Gelen, i believe you are attempting to deceive me." Replied the Krieger "It is unreasonable to believe that a man's penis could be capable of penetrating through a person's flesh, even if it became stiff."

"No no no you're not stabbing them with it like it was a knife." responded Koenraad with a huff "Don't interrupt, i wasn't finished yet. Course it don't make sense if you cut me off. Now as i was saying it gets hard cause if it weren't you couldn't get it in them. See where you got your pecker a woman's got a hole. You stick it in there. Usually at least. Sometimes a broad will let you put it in her mouth, and a few birds will even let you shove it up their a-"

"Gelen" Rochus cut across him before he could continue. Letting Gelen do it had been a terrible idea he thought to himself. "I think that's enough. If we let you explain it you'll make the Medicae into a Slaaneshi cultist." The men chuckled a bit and Rochus gathered his thoughts before continuing. Emperor preserve him there was no helping it now, he was just gonna have to give it to her straight as clinically as possible.



"The phenomena you described is referred to as an erection." He said while looking away. "It is a natural function which facilitates sexual intercourse between a man and a woman, which is when a man's genitals are inserted inside a woman's genitals for the purpose of procreation." 'there' he thought to himself 'that sounds like something right out of a text book. Hopefully now that she's got her answer she'll move on and forget about it'

"Sarge that was terrible. You make it sound boring when you say it like that. Don't listen to him" Gelen said to the Krieger "Sex is great, and it's so much more than just pumping a broad to knock her up like Sergeant stick-up-his-ass over there is saying. I remember there was this one Joygirl on Trieste that-"

"Koenraad" the Sergeant bit out "shouldn't you be eating? It's nearly time we went back on watch, and it would be a shame if you didn't finish your rations before then"

The man cursed and then applied himself to his food. Having been reminded that they didn't have long the whole squad focused on finishing their meals and the conversation was forgotten temporarily, but deep in his gut he knew it wouldn't be forgotten forever. Gelen would bring it back up, and if he didn't the Krieger probably would. 'Oh Emperor what did i do to deserve this' he thought. He'd just have to take each of them aside and see to it that neither of them brought it up. 'No wait' he thought to himself 'that's a terrible idea.' He could tell the Medicae not to listen to Koenraad. That he was trying to pull her leg. 'That might work' he thought, and decided to give it a try unless he thought of something better.

They finished eating and returned to their posts, but they weren't there long before Lieutenant Goossens came and pulled Rochus aside.

"Cap'n wants to see you" He said "I'll take over for you here"

"Yes sir" Sergeant Brinkerhoff said, before snapping a salute and leaving. 'What could the captain want?' He wondered.


When he arrived at the captain's bunker he found the captain waiting for him along with Sergeants Dirchs and Teunissen. Slightly confused he came to attention, and then took a seat when the captain gestured towards a chair in front of him. As he sat down between Dirchs and Teunissen the captain spoke.

"Good, now that all three of you are here we can begin the briefing." Said the Captain from behind his small desk. "As of 0300 last night the Imperial Navy drove off the final remaining elements of the Xenos fleet, and achieved orbital supremacy. We control the skies. Unfortunately, the Xenos have retreated and hidden in a dense forest 20 klicks from here which encompasses roughly 300 kilometers. The Navy has been unable to ascertain where the Xenos are inside of that forest. Therefore teams are being sent in to find the Xenos, and then transmit their location for Orbital strike. Your squads were selected."

"Permission to speak freely sir?" Asked Rochus

"Granted Sergeant" Replied the Captain

"Why doesn't the navy just glass the whole forest? Throne, why don't they just pull us out and glass the whole continent to be sure?" The Sergeant asked. In his opinion sending Hivers into a forest to hunt Xenos seemed like a loosing bet.

"Because Sergeant the powers that be want as much of that forest intact as possible when the colonists arrive." Replied the Captain.

"Colonists?" Said Teunissen "What colonists Sir? I thought we were just here to clean off the Xenos to prevent them from using this world as a possible staging point in the event they launched an invasion."

"Those were our original orders yes" the Captain said. "However in light of this planets proximity to other worlds held by man in this region it has been decided that the surest way to secure our position is to establish a permanent presence on this planet. Once we have removed the last of the Tau we are to be left as a garrison for the new colony."

Following this revelation each of them sat up a little straighter and leaned in slightly.

"If we find the Xenos how do we call in the strike?" asked Sergeant Dirchs. Whether or not they would willingly accept the mission was a forgone conclusion now. For a chance at garrison duty and being given a planet to settle on they'd gladly risk it.

"Each squad will be given a homing beacon" said the Captain. "When you have located the enemy you are to approach as close as you can, and then input the Xenos location relative to your location into the beacon. Once you've done that, you activate it and then you run."

"How long is the window for us to get clear once the strike has been called in?" asked Teunissen. Rochus could see the gears turning in his head as his brow furrowed. No doubt he was trying to decide how close he could get comfortably without being caught in the blast.

"The strike will happen less than a minute after the beacon has been activated.The Navy assures me that it's safe, and that the barrage will be accurate within meters of the intended target" replied the Captain sardonically "However since they failed to specify how many meters, best to be safe about it and put a little distance between you. I'd rather not loose any of my men to friendly fire, and i don't trust the squids."



"Understood sir" Rochus chorused with the other two sergeants before asking "Sir, may i tell my men about the change in our regiment's orders?"

"Of course sergeant" Replied the captain. "If you believe it will increase their moral. It's going to be general knowledge soon anyway, no reason your men can't hear it first."

"Thank you sir" said Rochus. Garrison duty. He felt something bubbling in his chest every time he thought about those two words. Garrison duty. After ten years of service the Emperor had decided it was time his men had their reward, if they could just see this last mission through. He just had to get them through one more mission, and then they'd be safe. No more dead friends, no more mementos.

"You'll be airlifted to the edge of the forest tomorrow morning. Rest up, and get your men ready" said the Captain before handing each of them a sealed envelope. "These, are maps marked with the area's you are to search. We've divided the forest into equal portions, and will have teams sweeping each zone. This will allow us to thoroughly search the entirety of the forest in short order. While you are in the forest maintain radio silence. May the Emperor be with you"

"The Emperor protects" They said in unison as was the customary response in a Batavi regiment, after which they were dismissed and each sergeant left to inform his squad of their new orders.



That night was spent in focused preparation. Whatever weariness the men had felt after their duty shift had evaporated when he told them the news. They had all perked up immediately after hearing those magical words. Garrison duty. There was no overt celebration, they hadn't won yet, but the mood as they gave their weapons and armor a final once over that night and got their packs ready was light. The only one who didn't have a grin ear to ear was the Krieger, and for all he knew she was smiling under that gas-mask same as the rest of them. When their preparations were complete they dove into their bunks.

In the morning as they geared up and made their way to the flight pad where the Valkyrie would be waiting for them the mood was much more reserved. The fact that they had one last mission before they earned their easy living, and that it was a dangerous one, had hit like a load of bricks. There were no smiles as they boarded the aircraft and lifted off, just visages of grim professionalism.

After the Valkyrie dropped them off at the edge of the woods they raised their weapons and slowly crept into the trees. They had only gone a few paces before Ramaaker stopped at a puddle of mud and crouched down. He then reached in a hand and drew out a scoopful of liquid filth and began to smear it onto his armor.

"Trooper what are you doing?" hissed Rochus quietly

"I saw it on a vid about Catachans sarge" He whispered back "If you smear yourself in mud and leaves the Xenos can't see you"

"That sounds like groxshite" He replied

"Listen sarge, i don't know the first thing about forests and neither does anyone else on the squad. Now it may have just been a vid, but it was a vid about the most woodsy madmen in the Imperium." Ramaaker quietly said back "So maybe this is stupid, but maybe it actually helps my odds of making it through this to see the arrival of that colony ship. I'll take my chances"

They all ended up smearing themselves with mud and leaves.



They swept through the trees and foliage as silently as they could, but knowing how to move silently in the under hive did not necessarily translate into being able to move quietly through the woods. They made a lot more noise than Rochus was comfortable with. He prayed to the Emperor the Xenos didn't find them before they found the Xenos. Every so often they would stop, and he would triangulate their position on the map using a compass and a some mountains for landmarks. It slowed them down, but it was necessary to make sure they covered their search area. The Sergeant was fairly certain that they were within their search parameters. At worst they may have deviated and overshot their boundaries by half a klick, but he figured as long as they covered all the ground they were supposed to it wouldn't kill anything if they covered just a little bit more.

They didn't find the Xenos that first day, but he hadn't really expected they would. He suspected that they would be further in where the trees were thicker and provided better cover from the air.

As the shadows began to lengthen and it grew more difficult to see Rochus decided it was time to stop for the night. They set up camp underneath a small overhang. Apparently determined to do everything he had seen in the vid Ramaaker gathered up fallen leaves and other detritus from the forest floor and piled them over himself when he lay down to sleep. The rest of the men didn't bother though. They set a watch, and then turned in for the night. They lit no fire, as the light would have betrayed their position. Even Hive boys like them knew that, so they spent the night in darkness. There was no conversation, just silence and the sounds of muted breathing.

Rochus took first watch with Eikenborn. He stared out into the darkness. With the trees obstructing his line of sight, and the canopy overhead blocking off most of the light, he couldn't see far, but he didn't think he saw anything moving in the trees.



The night passed without incident, and after eating a breakfast of cold rations they resumed their sweep of the Forest. They slowly moved ever deeper into the forest looking for signs of the Xenos. Honestly Rochus wasn't entirely certain what tracks were supposed to look like. He'd been born in a hive and his father had been a waste processing plant worker for the Emperor's sake. He'd never even seen a tree before they got deployed to this rock, but he figured that if an entire army of Xenos had been through here they would have to have left some sign of their passage obvious enough that even he could recognize it. After they had been searching for a few hours his hope was realized when Pender came running up to him holding a broken off branch.

"Sarge I think we got something over here" He said. With his helmet on Rochus couldn't see his face, but his tone was jubilant, and the sergeant could imagine his buck toothed grin. The trooper lead him off about twenty feet to where he had been searching. The ground was churned up a bit, and the undergrowth stamped down, but the most damning evidence was the scrape marks along the side of a tree where a branch had been torn off by something large passing it. Raising his hand Rochus signaled for the squad to converge on his position.

"This is it boys" He said when they were all gathered "Has to be. We're gonna follow this right back to them. Keep to the treeline, and stay low. They may have left behind watchers, so we prioritize stealth over speed, and keep your eyes peeled"

The men nodded and then they moved into the trees along either side of the path that the Aliens had cut through the forest. They ghosted from tree trunk to tree trunk and hid behind bushed when tree's weren't available. They followed the path for Hours. Fortunately they didn't run into any Xenos pickets, but when night fell they still hadn't caught up to the army, and Rochus signaled the squad to fall back into the trees to make camp.



After they had moved a ways away from the path Corporal Haanrath walked up next to him and whispered "Sir, why are we stopping?"

"Too much can go wrong in the dark" He replied "We could loose the trail, or run into an ambush. We'll continue in the morning"

"Sir we don't know how close we are to their camp" said the Corporal " I don't think that remaining stationary is wise, and we could use the darkness to sneak up on them."

"And if they can see in the dark better than we can?" He asked

"We have no way of knowing that Rochus, but if we just sit here we may be missing out on our chance!" Haanrath said emphatically as he brought a fist down on his thigh next to where he had strapped his favorite knife.

Rochus thought about it for a minute. They could be set upon by the enemy here just as easily as they could while on the move. Hunkering down for the night was no guarantee of safety, and the cover of darkness would increase their chances of sneaking up on the Xenos and catching them unawares. But they didn't know how far it was. If they pushed through the night and then didn't find them then that could leave them exhausted. After mulling it over for a few second more he decided Haanrath was right. They had better chances of pulling this off without getting seen now than they did in the morning. He came to a halt and then began to signal to the men to return to following the trail, and to stay in sight of one another.



Perhaps an hour after the sun had set they began to hear the noise of crackling fires, Alien voices, and movement. Rochus signaled for the squad to drop, and they inched their way forward slowly on their elbows and knees, until finally they had crawled close enough to see the Tau encampment. They'd covered their vehicles and suits with netting and branches to hide them from the air, and likewise disguised the structures they had built to shelter in. They huddled around fires built in pits, with branches hanging over them to hide the light and disperse the smoke. Most of the Aliens Rochus could see were the tall avian ones that had staged the surprise attacks. They outnumbered the blue skinned Tau perhaps three to one, and both races of Xenos kept to their own groups.

He reached down and grabbed the homing beacon from where it was attached to his belt. They were maybe 100 yards out, it was hard to tell the distance in the dark while lying prone. He punched in his best guess and then set the beacon on the ground. Around him the men readied themselves to get up and sprint when he gave the signal. He hovered one hand over the activation button on the beacon and put up three fingers on the other.

He had put down the first finger, and started to curl the second, when a loud crack rang out and out of the corner of his eye he saw Mulder's head jerk to the side. As the corpse fell limp they all started shouting, Rochus couldn't tell who was shouting what. He slammed his thumb down on the button and then shot to his feet and roared "RUN!"



The men clawed their way to their feet and turned and sprinted for cover. Behind them the sergeant could hear the Xenos shouting and more shots being fired. He had been in the lead when they had approached the Xenos camp and now had the farthest to run. In front of him he could see the men who had been in the back of the group make it to cover. Gelen and Ramaaker ducked behind a rock outcropping and then leaned out and started to return fire. They laid down a few bursts of red bolts from their Hellguns, and then Ramaaker rocked as if he'd been struck and dropped. He fell face first and his body hung over the edge of the rock outcropping. Gelen continued to fire, and as more of the men made it behind trees or stones they opened up with their Hellguns as well.

Rochus's heart thundered in his chest and he pumped his legs furiously as he ran towards the large tree he had marked as his target. He wished he had the presence of mind to count seconds, to try and guess how long they had until the bombs started falling and hopefully took some of this heat off of them before the aliens got them all, but all he could think about was getting to cover and the bullets whizzing past.

He watched as Pender, he was pretty sure it was Pender based on the size, pitched to the side and then stumbled and fell just short of cover. The rest of the men had all made it behind something by now and were trying to cover him as he crossed the last few feet to get to the tree. He was almost there, just a few more steps and he'd made it.

With maybe ten feet to go Rochus had planted his right foot and began to lift his left leg when he felt a terrible pain and his leg gave out from under him, sending him crashing to the forest floor. Reflexively he reached down and grasped at his thigh. The sergeant could feel the break in his armor where it had been split by the passage of the projectile, and his hand and the plates started to feel slick. He'd been shot.



He grimaced and then began to pull himself along the ground towards the tree. 'I'm not gonna make it' Rochus thought to himself as he started to feel light headed. His arms started to feel weak. They gave out and he landed on the ground with a thump. He was so close, just a few more feet. He struggled to raise himself up, but he couldn't get his torso off the ground, and then he felt hands wrapping around him and grabbing him under his armpits. He looked up and saw a familiar skull faced mask. The Medicae had broken out of cover and was dragging him towards the tree.

She dragged him behind the trunk and then propped him up against it. He watched as she dragged her Reductor across the plates encasing his thigh and sawed through them and then pried them away, exposing his leg. He frowned. 'Why'd she go and do a thing like that?' he thought to himself. The armor was expensive. The supply sergeant was gonna give him an earful for that. He might even get called to the carpet by the LT. He was vaguely aware of Corporal Haanrath joining them behind the tree. He could hear snatches of their conversation, but it was hard to focus. All he got was "Massive blood loss", "-trying", and "Hold them off".


He looked up at the sky and smiled. He could see shooting stars. Bright lights falling from the sky. So pretty. He should make a wish. As he pondered what he would wish for there was suddenly a flash of bright light, and then his visor darkened. He could hear and feel thumping, and the ground shook. That was important, he knew it was important, but he couldn't remember why. Maybe it was Emperor's day and those were the fireworks. Agner had loved the fireworks. Rochus would carry him on his shoulders so he could see over the crowd.

His visor started to lighten up and he could see again. The Medicae's hands were moving over his leg, but he couldn't tell what she was doing. It was getting hard to breath. He could hear himself sucking in air in rapid short little breaths inside his helmet. Had he been doing that this whole time? His eyes fluttered. 'Where had Haanrath gone?' he wondered. He turned his head to the side. 'Ah, there he is' he thought.

The last thing Rochus saw before he blacked out was Haanrath standing in front of a pair of Xenos back-lit by a massive fire, and then his eyes closed and the world went dark as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Rochus woke up three days later in a field hospital, though at the time he woke up he didn't know it had been three days. He opened his eyes slowly. The light was so bright it hurt at first before they adjusted. He was lying in a room filled with beds, most of them occupied by men swathed in bandages. He slowly propped himself up to get a better look around the room trying to figure out why he was here, and where here was.

"Glad to see your still with us sarge" said a voice to his left. It was familiar, though he hadn't heard it in a while.

"Baiman?" He asked as he turned to face the bed the voice had came from.

"In the flesh sarge" He said. His chest was a mass of bandages, and his arm was gone entirely, but his complexion had a healthy sheen to it and he was grinning. "I'd say it was good to see you here, but i think we'd both have preferred it if you were here under different circumstances."

"My leg" He exclaimed remembering how the mission had gone south and he'd been shot. He threw back the sheets and looked at it. It was wrapped up tight and held in place so he couldn't move it, but it was there.

"Yeah you still have your leg" Said Baiman "You got lucky and the bullet missed the bone. I asked the doc and he says with proper care he expects you'll make a full recovery. No need for mechanical replacements, which i think is a shame. Think of how hard you could kick someone in the ass with a metal leg. I mean at first i was pretty unhappy about loosing my arm, and then i realized i'd have a literal iron fist, and i felt better about it."

Rochus snorted. Baiman had always had a way of making the best of things. Maybe it came from having been born in the squalor of the Under Hive, but if you told the man it was raining and the trenches were gonna be filled with mud he'd respond that at least he'd get to wash off some of the sweat and grime from his body in the downpour first before it filled his boots with muck.



"Oh sergeant, you're awake" said a voice from behind him. He turned and saw a medical orderly with a clipboard standing nearby. "Wait there please, the Lieutenant wanted to speak with you when you got up"

The orderly turned and hurried out of the room. The sergeant wondered why he had been told to wait, it's not like he was going to get up and walk anywhere anytime soon.

'Force of habit probably' he decided. 'Or manners maybe.'

He sat back and decided to talk to Baiman until the LT arrived. "So how long have i been here?" He asked.

"They brought you in three days ago sarge" replied the trooper.

"They bring in anyone else from the squad?" He asked

"No sarge, just you" Baiman said as he shook his head.

After that he made some inquiries on how Baiman had been. He was informed that it was alright here. Baiman was bored, but comfortable ,and the food was actually better than what they got out of their MREs. When he ran out of questions they lapsed into silence. It seemed Baiman didn't have anything to ask him, or rather was afraid to ask for fear of hitting on a painful subject perhaps. In any case he sat there with his thoughts for several minutes before the Goossens arrived.

"I hope you'll forgive me if i don't come to attention" He said as he raised his arm to salute him

"Course " The liuetenant said as he lazily returned the salute. "So how do you like the accommodations?"

"Well sir i've been here for all of thirty minutes and i already want out" He said. They both laughed for a moment and then he asked "What happened to the rest of my squad sir?"

The Lieutenant's face fell. "You lost troopers Ramaaker and Pender, along with Vox operator Mulder and corporal Haanrath. The rest made it back alright, but with you out of commission and with most of your men dead the squad is being dissolved, and the survivors are being reassigned to fill in holes in other squads."



"But-" He started to object, but the Lieutenant spoke over him.

"Rochas, it's done." Said Goossens. "I'm sure you'll still have opportunities to see them, in fact once we're done here i'm going to go tell them you're up because they wanted to know so they could visit you, but they aren't your men anymore. You've all been reassigned, it's just the way things are. I'd do something if i could, but it's beyond me."

"Understood sir" He said resignedly, and then a thought occurred to him and he asked. "Sir, where am i being reassigned if they've disolved my squad.?"

"For now your assignment is this hospital and your mission is to get your PT done and get back on your feet" the Lieutenant replied. He seemed hesitant for some reason, and it put Rochas on edge. "As for your reassignment...I don't know any other way to say this than just to say it. When the colonists get here you should be healed up, and you're getting seconded to the Governor to help form a PDF for the colony."

"What?" the sergeant exclaimed. He had to have heard wrong, that couldn't be right.

"The Major has been in Astropathic communication with the future Planetary Governor" said Goossens. "They've decided that due to the possibility of future Tau incursions a PDF should be formed to supplement us in defending the planet in the event of an attack. The Governor asked for personnel to act as Instructors to help get them off the ground. You were selected."



That...well it was good news, but at the same time Rochus couldn't help but consider what that would mean. He was probably bedridden. He hadn't been told he couldn't leave the cot, but with his leg like this he doubted he could get up. That mean he'd need help bathing, and probably need to use a bedpan. He'd really rather the Medicae not help him with either of those. She probably wouldn't care, but he was certain he would feel awkward. Still he knew he would be glad to have another familiar face.

"That is good news sir" He responded "Thank you for coming in person to inform me sir."

"It's not a problem Rochus, I'm glad to see you up again." Said the Lieutenant "I'll go tell your men you're awake. Good day sergeant"

"Good bye Goossens" said the sergeant as he left.

It wasn't long after the lieutenant left that Gelen and Eikenborn came into the field hospital carrying four boxes on a litter. Rochas's heart sank, he knew what they'd brought.

"Hey sarge" said Gelen with false cheer "Came as soon as the Lieutenant told us you was up. You're looking good"

"I'm in a hospital bed" He replied

"Yeah, but you're whole" Koenraad said, and then added as a hurried afterthought . "No offense Baiman."

"None taken" Said Baiman "Just wait until i get my iron fist, I'll smack you with it and you'll wish you had one"

"Riiight" said Eikenborn "Anyway Sarge we brought their stuff so you could ah...well we figured you'd appreciate it." He sounded kind of uncomfortable bringing it up. Rochus could understand that, he wasn't comfortable talking or thinking about it either, but it had been considerate of them.

"Thank you Alfons, Koenraad, I appreciate it" He said and they laid out the boxes next to him on the bed. It hurt to open those boxes, to be forced to accept that half of what had remained of his squad had been lost, but they deserved to be remembered. He opened up Haanrath's first. After rummaging around a bit, he pulled out the Corporal's favorite knife.



"That's groxshite" He said, uncaring of how he was addressing his superior as his temper took hold of him. "I'm better than that. For the Emperor's sake i'm part of Alpha! One of the more decorated non-coms in Alpha! They can't just take my men and send me to the PDF!"

"They already have Rochus" said the Lieutenant "They already have. You may have been over qualified, but you were the one who was available, and the Major told me when he told the Governor who he was getting he practically creamed himself. You're not getting out of this."

Rochus wanted to continue to object, but he knew it would do no good, and it wasn't Goossens he wanted to yell at anyway. So he he kept his mouth shut and seethed as the Lieutenant kept talking.

"There is one piece of good news" He said "You'll have at least one friendly 'face' as it were around here while you're recovering. Your squad's Medicae got reassigned here. He'll be assisting with your treatment and rehabilitation"



The blade was five inches long and had a grip that sheathed and protected the fingers. Hanraath had had it with him when he joined the squad. Rochus has never asked him where he had gotten it. He wished he had now. He set the knife to the side and then reached into Pender's box. He rummaged around in it but didn't find anything that seemed appropriate, and then he had a thought.

"Have you taken down Pender's still?" He asked

"Still have it hidden in the dugout" said Gelen "Why?"

"Would you box it up for me?" asked Rochus "If we're gonna be garrisoned here it's not like i'll have to worry about space too much, and i can't think of anything better to remember Pender by than his still." The man had loved his drink, and had made a fine moonshine. Rochus himself had no interest in producing any booze with it, but there were plenty of good memories associated with that still and it's product.



"Yeah sarge we can do that" said Alfons "Do you want us to bring it to you then?"

"Where are they keeping all my stuff?" He asked. He didn't see it here by his hospital bed, and he didn't think there was room for it to be hidden somewhere nearby.

"They have it all in storage till when you get out" said Eikenborn

"Just add it to my boxes then" the sergeant said and then pulled over Ramaaker's box. He knew just what he was looking for, and found it after a few moments of searching. It was a small snuffbox with fake mother of pearl inlay. Ramaaker hadn't been able to smoke lho-sticks on duty, the Commissar hated them and had passed new regulations concerning the narcotic inhalants, so he carried snuff to get his fix. He set it down next to the knife and then pulled over the last box.

Mulder had been a bit of a collector. When they had been on Trieste if he had seen something that interested him he'd grabbed it and stuck it in his pack for latter. Most of it had been thrown back out but he'd kept more than a few odd items. Still, Rochas had no interest in the knickknacks. He knew exactly what to remember Mulder by. He reached in and pulled out the data-slates with Mulder's music on them.



With the respective memento for each dead man collected he passed the small pile to Eikenborn and said "Put these with the rest please Alfons"

"Of course sir" replied the trooper.

"Do either of you know where the Medicae is?" he asked "I'd like to thank him."

"No sarge, i haven't seen him for two days, not since we got the transfer orders. Thought he'd be here actually" said Gelen

"What Medicae?" Asked Baiman.

"After you were removed from duty your spot in the squad was filled by a member of the Death Korps, a Medicae. The same one who treated you in the field after you got shot actually" said Rochus.

"Oh" said Baiman "You know they told me whoever had got at me first had done a good job all things considered. I should probably thank him when i meet him."

"He probably wouldn't care if you did" replied Eikenborn "Or he may ask why, since he was only doing his duty. He can be a bit odd sometimes."

"Yeah the gas-masks are pretty weird" said Baiman "I've tried talking to a few of them in here, but they just ignore me. Oh, actually now that i think about it we did have a new gas-mask medic start showing up around here lately. Probably the one you're looking for. He got sent to bring back some surgical supplies for the head doc from the supply depot a little before you woke up. He'll probably be back before too long"

"Thank's Baiman, that's good to know" replied the Sergeant. He'd talk with him about the pejorative way he referred to the Kriegers latter when he got the chance. No sense being rude to men they'd probably spend the rest of their lives working with. "If he comes in point him out to me please"

"Sure thing sarge" said Baiman.

They made small talk with Gelen and Eikenborn for a bit longer, but they soon had to leave. After replacing the boxes onto the litter they lifted it up between them and left the field hospital.



"So they replaced me with a gasmask eh?" asked Baiman

"Yes, your replacement was a Krieger" said Rochus, laying a small amount of emphasis on the more proper name. Whether or not Krieger was actually the proper way to refer to them he wasn't sure, but it's what they all called them, and it was better than gasmask. "It wasn't the same without you, but he was a good addition to the squad."

"Really? I mean I've been hearing stories, especially for the last few days" said Baiman

"What do you mean?" asked Rochus.

"Well i mean like i said they don't really talk much, kinda rude you know? And they're busybodies, always going on about regs and efficiency and how we're soft. Plus, recently it seems like they've all gone suicidal and they're dragging whoever happens to be with them along for the ride."

"Well you have to engage them a bit to get them to open up" said Rochus. "But you can get through to them if you try, and they're used to a very different culture from ours. You can't just expect them to be exactly like us. As for that last one, it sounds like hogwash to me. The Medicae was never anything but professional when we were on the job. I can't see him as a suicidal glory hound."

"Tell that to them over there" said Baiman pointing at a collection of heavily bandaged men asleep on their cots at the far end of the room "After they bombed the snot out of the Tau's main encampment and wiped out most of them they started sending in lotsa patrols looking for any remaining Xenos. Those boys were out in the bush when they spotted some aliens. Their Sergeant was happy to call it in and wait for backup or an air strike, but the Kriegers they had on the squad up and started a fire fight. Three quarters of their squad dead or wounded and the Xenos rabbited and got away."



That didn't make sense to Rochus. It didn't sound like something the Medicae would do, and it wouldn't be something he'd expect of any other member of the Death Korps either. Then he remembered that first conversation in the tunnel. "Born to die for the Emperor" she had said. He thought about how the Medicae had risked her life for a chance at the Korps and dying for the Emperor, and it clicked in his head.

Garrison duty. They were being assigned to garrison duty. Which meant it was quite possible, probable even, that they would spend the rest of their days here in peace. For your average guardsmen this was as good as it could get. You'd done your service, the Emperor had protected you, and now it was time for your reward. A nice cushy job looking after the adulating citizens. But for a member of the Death Korps it must have seemed terrible. After being taught your entire life that your purpose was to die for the Emperor to have lived, and to be denied the chance to continue to fight for Him on Terra, would be a special kind of torment. It would mean you had failed. Rochas didn't really know the intricacies of Krieg's ideology, but he didn't have to in order to understand that faced with the prospect of failing the Emperor and possibly incurring His displeasure, a Krieger would surely become desperate.

He'd been so caught up in the euphoria when he heard that he hadn't stopped to think about what it might mean to the Medicae. It had slipped his mind before, but now it moved to the forefront of his thoughts and his insides curdled like old milk.



The thought of the Medicae dying violently after committing suicide by Xeno filled him with dread. A series of images flashed through his mind. The Medicae lying on the ground clutching at a steaming hole in her side where a blue pulse from a Tau riffle had burnt it's way through her guts. One of the avian Xenos swinging it's blade down in an arc and slicing her head from her shoulders, the hiss of air from the bifurcated breathing tube and the spray of bright arterial blood as the corpse fell and the head rolled off to the side. He saw her lifted up in the arms of one of the Xenos, struggling against it's grip and trying to break free as it clamped it's jaws down on her body and she went limp. The images went through his mind, a slideshow of horror, and he recoiled.

He did not want her to die, could not stand the thought of her dying. He'd already lost so many. He'd just barely gathered mementos for four more of his men who were now gone to the Emperor's side, he couldn't bear to loose any more of his people. True she hadn't been a member of his squad for very long, but she was still one of his damn it.

It had been difficult at first, but he'd grown to enjoy her company. The frequent cultural clashes and misunderstandings had been irritating in the beginning, but they had slowly come to be endearing. She was earnest and she tried very hard, and Rochus respected that. He couldn't help but appreciate that despite how difficult it must have been she kept trying, and had been making good progress integrating with the other men in the squad before all of this. She wasn't just some Krieger or a medic for the squad anymore. She was his Medicae, and he didn't want to loose her. Not now, not after he had already lost so many and the rest were being taken from him. He couldn't stand to loose one of the last links he had to his squad.



He took comfort in the knowledge that the Medicae had been assigned here to the field hospital, and that it was highly unlikely that she would have any opportunities to martyr herself fighting against the remaining Xenos while this far behind the lines tending to the wounded. He let out a sigh of relief. The images in his head wouldn't come into reality. He smiled as he felt his worry slip away momentarily, before it was replaced with guilt. Sure it made him happy to know she would be safe, but it probably made her miserable. He felt selfish for feeling glad about something that would make her unhappy. Guilty that he wanted her around for his own comfort regardless of how hard that might be on her. He knew it was her dearest wish but he did not want her to die, not even for the Emperor.

He made the sign of the Aquila and whispered a muted apology to Him on Terra for that last thought, but he knew that Heresy or not it was still true. He wanted her to live, and he was glad she was safe here. Glad that unless something went terribly wrong she would live. Then he thought about what would happen after. After the last of the Xenos were cleared out of the woods, and after the colonists arrived, what then? The Medicae would be alive, but all she had known was war. How would she be able to adjust to peace? How would she be able to adjust to peace while feeling guilty for having lived? Would she be able to take it? Would it be too much for her? Would she end up eating the end of a bolt pistol?



He shuddered at that last thought. No, no he wouldn't let that happen. He'd taken her under his wing and tried to ease her into the squad before, and he'd do it again. When the colonists came he would be there to help her adjust to their new life on this planet, and he'd keep an eye on her to make sure nothing untoward happened. He'd be there. He'd be able to help her, and when she was ready he'd be there for her to talk to to help her work things out. It'd work out. It had to. He'd make it work. As he made his decision he was pulled from his thoughts by a voice coming from off to the side

"Sarge, hey sarge you in there?" asked Baiman slowly as he waved a hand in front of Rochas's face. "Hello, sarge?"

"What?" He said and jerked up as he realized he'd been sitting there lost in his thoughts while Baiman was trying to talk to him. "What is it?

"Damn sarge you were out of it, you need a doc?" Asked the one armed trooper with a look of concern on his face.

"No" said Rochus as he waved a hand in dismissal "No i'm fine,i just got lost in thought there for a moment. What was it you were trying to say?"

"Well i was trying to say i'm off to the mess to grab something to eat, and that the Krieger i told you about just walked in a minute ago" said Baiman as he first jabbed a thumb over his shoulder towards the door, and then pointed over to the far corner of the building. Rochus followed his finger with his eyes and saw the Medicae handing several packages over to a man in surgical scrubs, who took them and then disappeared into an adjoining room.



"You want i should grab you anything sarge?" Asked Baiman "It's good food, they even have freeze cream. When was the last time you had freeze cream sarge?"

"Two years" He answered absent-mindedly.

"I'll get you some then" said Baiman "See you in a minute sarge"

"Goodbye Baiman" He said as the man got up and left. He tried to catch the Medicae's eye, and when she noticed him and stopped he waved her over. She approached his bed quickly and then stood next to his cot.

"I'm glad to see you are alright" He said

"As am i sir" She replied "When you passed out after being shot i feared that you would suffer serious and permanent harm from the blood loss, perhaps brain damage, so i am pleased to see that you appear to be in good health."

"It'll take more than this to kill me" He bragged while gesturing to his leg "And i had the best medic in the Regiment there to look after me." He said and smiled and looked up at her.

"Sir exaggerations of my prowess serve no purpose. I am aware of my capabilities and my limitations, and i merely did my duty." The Krieger replied. Now that just wouldn't do. He'd need to teach her to accept a compliment.

"It's called a compliment Medicae" He said. "It's purpose is to communicate my appreciation to you, and to express the high regard i hold you in. In the future it is likely you will receive many compliments. The polite response is to thank them for the compliment and then tell them they think too highly of you."

"Then these 'compliments' are comparable to a favorable performance review?" She asked.

"If you wish to look at it that way, i believe that is an apt enough comparison" said the Sergeant.

"Understood sir. Thank you for the favorable review of my performance, but i believe you have exaggerated my abilities." Said the Krieger



Rochas smiled. "So i understand you've been assigned to my care then" he said.

"Yes sir" the Medicae replied. "You are one of the individuals i have been assigned to care for in addition to my other duties. It is time to change your bandages. Please pull your gown to the side so that i may see the wound."

"Of course" He said, a bit startled by her sudden demand, and shifted the gown so that his leg was fully exposed. The entirety of his thigh was wrapped in layers of bandages, and he could see the beginning of a small spot of discolor radiating out from where the wound was. The Medicae placed one hand under his thigh and leveraged his leg into a position where it bent at the knee and raised the back of his leg off of the bed before slipping a round block of wood with some padding around it underneath his knee to hold his leg up. She then began to unwind the bandages.

He watched as her hands passed back and forth and under and over his leg, slowly unraveling the layers of white cloth that swathed his thigh. As she began to remove layers he could see that the further down they went the larger the spot of discoloration was as something seeped slowly through the bandages. Eventually she removed the last layer and he could see the wound itself. It looked awful to him. He could see where the jagged edges had been stitched together with thick heavy sutures, and it weaped some manner of fluid. The flesh looked tight, like it was pulling against the threads holding it together. As he looked at the wound he was amazed he wasn't feeling significant pain.

"Medicae, am i on drugs?" He asked



"Of course sir. You were put on a regimen of painkillers and antibiotics after the operation " said the Krieger as she lightly ran her hands along his thigh around the wound and looked at it. " This is looking very good Sergeant. There is no discoloration of the flesh around the wound that would indicate infection, and no signs of mortification. You appear to be healing well."

"You're telling me that looks good" He said pointing to, what seemed to him at least, the ruined flesh.

"Yes sir" she said as she cleaned the wound and then began to wrap fresh bandages around his thigh "You appear to be responding to treatment favorably."

"Well that's good i suppose" He said as she quickly finished wrapping up his leg and tied the bandaging off before removing the block and slowly lowering his leg back onto the cot. "Thank you Medicae."

"I am only performing my duties Sergeant" she said as she began to turn towards one of the other patients. "If you require help or the use of a bedpan, call for me."

"Understood" He said as she walked away, but what he thought was 'no way in the warp'. He ddin't mind her helping with other things, but if he needed a bedpan he'd wait until she was out and call for one of the orderlies or something.

The remainder of the day was quiet after that. Baiman came back and gave him a small bowl of freeze cream, which he enjoyed, and an orderly came around and brought him and the other bedridden soldiers their meal that evening, but nothing much of note happened. He talked to Baiman for a bit, but they ran out of conversation topics before long, and he found himself just sitting in the Field hospital alone with his thoughts for the most of the day. After dinner he fell asleep for a bit, and then woke up briefly before going to sleep for the night.



The next day was just as boring as the afternoon and evening of the last day had been. The only thing remotely interesting that happened was the discharge of a trooper who was deemed to have recovered sufficiently to return to his unit. Other than that nothing really happened. The orderlies and medics bustled around and looked after the men, changing bandages and distributing medicine. Those that were able would get up and move around or leave the hospital for a bit, but for Rochas who was stuck in his bed there wasn't much to do. He ate, he made conversation with the orderlies who came to give him his drugs along with Baiman and the patients around him, and he napped. Throughout the day he saw the Medicae making her rounds and helping her other patients, and he wanted to talk with her, but he didn't want to distract her from her work so he stayed silent and watched her pass. He went to sleep that night having exchanged only a few words with her when she came to check on him.

By the third day he was seeing a pattern. The morning meal came at the same time as it had the second day, and the same orderlies came and gave him his drugs. He was once more left to his own devices there on the bed. 'If i don't find something to do' he thought to himself 'i shall surely go mad'.

The morning passed slowly, but that afternoon something interesting happened. Shortly after he ate lunch the Medicae approached him. She was pushing a wh
He could feel his face heating slightly as he undid at the knot at the back of his neck that held the gown up and pulled the garment off of his body and cast it aside. He refused to acknowledge his embarrassment. She had no problem with this, so neither would he. This was a matter of maintaining hygiene and proper medical practice, nothing more.

With the Medicae's help he got up out of his wheelchair and onto the bench. Once he was seated she crouched down behind him out of his sight. He stared straight at the tiled wall in front of him. He heard her swishing the water around in the bason and then wringing out the sponge, and then he felt something warm and damp being run across his shoulders. As she slowly dragged the warm sponge across his broad back he realized she had stripped off her gloves. Every so often he would feel a knuckle or the tip of one of her fingers dragging across his skin as she applied the sponge. Once or twice he felt the brush of the heel of her palm during her methodical sweeping motions. She had reached about his mid-back and he was just starting to relax and enjoy the sensation when she spoke up.

"Sir, may i ask you a question?" the Medicae said.

'Oh no' thought Rochas. 'This can't be good'

"Some time ago when i inquired about Batavi you informed me that you were not inducted into a training cadre until you were sixteen, and that prior to that time you lived with your progenitors, who you referred to as 'parents' in a unit called a 'family'." said the Krieger "If it is acceptable, i wish to learn further details concerning your adolescence."

He breathed a small sigh of relief. It wasn't anything overly embarrassing, just something rather personal. Oddly enough he found he didn't really have a problem sharing a bit about his childhood with the Medicae.

"Alright" He said as she moved the sponge across his lower back "give me a moment to think about it, and i'll answer your question."


eelchair in front of her. She came to a stop at the end of his bunk and said "Sir, it is time for your bath."

"Alright" He said "If you'll just help me get to the washroom, i'll take care of that myself."

"That is not possible sir" the Krieger replied "It is important your wound does not get wet. You cannot follow your regular hygienic procedures. Instead, i will be giving you a sponge bath."

"Couldn't i just give myself a sponge bath?" He asked hesitantly



"Negative" she replied emphatically. "You do not know the proper procedure for maintaining proper hygiene without aggravating your wound, and there are areas you could not reach. I will assist you."

He wanted to argue the point, but he knew he wouldn't win. "Very well then Medicea, help me into the wheelchair and lets get this over with." he said resignedly.

She nodded and then helped him stand on his uninjured leg before lowering him into the wheelchair. Once he was seated she began to push him, and they moved away from his bunk towards the back of the building on the opposite side of the exit. He could see there were several doors along the back wall, and could only assume that they led to bathing areas, since that was where they were headed. It felt fantastic to get out of that bed he thought as the moved through the room.

"Medicae" he began "Would it be possible for me to use a wheelchair or crutches to get up and move around a bit during the day? It's rather boring to just sit there."

"I do not have the authority to grant you this request" She said "However i see no reason it should not be possible. I will inquire with the Head Surgeon and inform you of his decision."

"Thank you Medicae" he said as they reached the door. He could hear water running from behind the adjacent door as the Medicae opened up the one in front of him and pushed him into the room. It was a small space. The floor was tiled and there was a drain in the center of the room. Projecting from the back wall was a tile bench of sorts, which is where he assumed he would sit. There was a spigot in one corner with a small tub underneath it, and several shower heads spaced slightly apart along the walls.

The Medicae crouched down and used the spigot to fill the tub, which she then slid across the floor until it was next to the "bench". Then she looked up at Rochas and said "You will need to remove your gown before we can proceed."


After thinking about what to say for a minute he began to speak. "As i said before i was born in the lower levels of Ultrecht hive. I was the first child of my parents to survive to birth. My mother had difficulty conceiving and carrying a child to term. Father blamed the living conditions in our hab. In any case when i was born, a big healthy baby boy, they were ecstatic."

He paused a moment before continuing. "My father was a technician at a waste processing plant, as had been his father, and his father before him, but he wanted something better for me. He took extra shifts so they'd be able to afford getting me an education. I never saw much of him when i was a kid.He tended to come home in the night after i was asleep and leave in the morning before i got up on most days. Only ever really saw him at church or on holy days. My mother was a seamstress. She would work while i was in class. I was training to be an administrator. We were happy enough i suppose, it wasn't like we were destitute or anything. My father made good money for a lower hive laborer."

The Medicae was silent as he spoke. She just kept scrubbing his back as he droned on about his childhood. "That was what life was like until i was about nine, and then things changed. My mother got pregnant unexpectedly. My parents didn't expect it to live, but the baby survived. My little brother Agner. He was a tiny little thing, but by the Throne did he have a set of lungs on him. I swear you could hear him wailing from across the street."

Rochas smiled at the memory "I was such a twat then. I hated him for getting me up in the night and taking my parent's attention. My dad had to sit me down and explain to me that Agner was my little brother, and that as big brother it was my job to look after him and love him,and that he was disappointed in me. After that i straightened out, and we got along great. He was nine when i shipped out. I still remember him crying when i told him i had to leave."

He was pulled out of his musings by the sound of the Medicae's voice. "Sir, may i make a further inquiry?"

He snorted at how she always asked and said "Of course Medicae"

"You said you were training to be an administrator, why were you selected for military service?" the Krieger asked.

"Well I wasn't selected, I volunteered" He said with a frown. "And as for why...when I was thirteen my father died in an accident at the plant where he worked."

The Sergeant hadn't intended to talk about this, but it just kind of came spilling out. " The containment unit for the chlorine gas used to treat the waste material had been corroded, and the facilities' overseers had either not noticed it happening, or failed to replace it if they did. The tank ruptured and the compartment my father was working in flooded with chlorine gas. He and four other workers were killed."

"Your father was killed by a chemical weapon while working in a waste processing facility?" The Krieger asked. If she had been anyone else he was sure her tone would have been incredulous. As it was he thought he could detect some fluctuation in her monotone.

"Yes" He said. "Chlorine gas is good for killing a lot more than just people you know. If you use it to aerate waste water it kills the bacteria as well. It's dangerous to handle, but it's cheap and efficient so it gets used. As long as you follow proper safety procedures it's safe enough, but a lot of facilities don't. Protective gear is expensive after all." That last line came out bitter. He had never forgiven the plant for his father's death. If they had at least had masks they might have lived, but that would have cut into profits.

"After that things were hard" Rochas said quietly "Without father's income mother struggled to put food on the table. I dropped out of the program and looked for odd jobs to help make ends meet. I ended up in a factory for a while, then one day when i was on my way back to our home after a long shift i was approached by a recruiter for the PDF youth group. He had me sold as soon as he said there was a steady wage and quoted me what i could earn. I followed him back to the recruiting station that night and signed up then and there after lying about my age. Mother was furious with me, but what was done was done, and the money was enough to get us back on our feet and even pay for Agner to get an education since I did well in the entrance testing and they moved me into the advanced program. A few years after that when i was a member of the PDF proper the tithe came up and i was selected for the honor of joining the Guard as a member of the new regiment's Alpha company."

His story finished he fell silent. He felt better than he usually did after something reminded him of his father's death, almost light.

"Thank you for answering my question sir" The Krieger said after pausing a moment to make sure he had finished speaking.

"It's not a problem Medicae. Thank you for listening" Rochas said. It kinda felt good to have someone who was interested in his past. "Medicae, if you don't mind, would you tell me about your childhood? I know you were surprised when i told you i hadn't joined up until i was a teenager, but i was equally surprised to hear you'd been put into training when you were a small child. I'm curious what it was like."

She was silent for a while after that and she stopped washing his back with the sponge. He was worried he had somehow upset her when she said "I am not certain i wish to tell you sir."


"Why?" He asked, unable to understand her reluctance. She didn't seem capable of embarrassment, so he wondered why she would be unwilling to tell him.

"I believe it would negatively effect your opinion of me, and i do not wish that to happen" the Krieger said. "Based on your description our experiences were radically different, and i believe that you would find the details of my training to be disturbing based on my understanding of your culture."

Well that answer in and of itself was somewhat concerning, but Rochas figured he could already guess the gist of what he would hear if she opened up and told him. He knew that she had been inducted into the military when she was four, that they had a rigorous training regime which she had done well in, and that she had been raised to believe her purpose in life was to die for the Emperor. He figured she'd tell him about learning to strip a lasgun and reload an autocannon as a little girl, or about how they were indoctrinated. Honestly he didn't see how it could get much more disturbing than the fanaticism that Krieg instilled into it's soldiers. He was of course willing to die in the Emperor's service himself if necessary, but he would much rather live to continue to serve Him, and he was sure even the most devout member of the Regiment would agree with him on that.

But while perhaps somewhat disturbing he could accept that her faith in the Emperor was slightly different than his own. After all they still both worshiped the Emperor and wanted to serve Him, and he was given to understand there were planets in the Imperium with far more esoteric beliefs. He was sure that whatever the Medicae told him it couldn't be that bad, and in any case whatever had happened in the past he knew her now, and he trusted her.

"Medicea" He said softly "I promise you that nothing you tell me will change how i think of you."

After a moment she answered quietly "Very well then, i will comply with your request"



"I was inducted into training cadre 3-0-0-6-5 as Juvenile trainee seventy two zero five hundred, the seventy second of the five hundred children in my training cadre. Each morning we were instructed in the function and maintenance of the Emperor's holy armaments. How to strip and service an autocannon and how to maintain a lasgun. My cadre was intended for the infantry rather than an armored regiment, so our morning instruction was relatively brief compared to others. Following morning instruction were drills and practical exercises, including obstacle courses and physical conditioning. We were then sent to the priests who instructed us in the worship of the Emperor. We were taught to hate the mutant, the psycher, the heretic, and the foul xeno, as well as of our own debt to the Emperor and our duty to pay it."

'Well that doesn't sound too bad' thought Rochas. 'About what i had expected.'

"Weakness and failure were punished promptly and severely. Counterproductive emotional displays and actions were not tolerated. Trainees who continued to fail or show weakness were removed from the training cadre and executed" She continued.

The sergeant winced when he heard that. After all children make mistakes, and children can be somewhat emotional. Imagining himself as a child being punished for an emotional outburst, or for making a mistake, knowing that if he didn't correct his behavior he may someday die for it he thought that would be absolutely crushing. No wonder the Kriegers were all so emotionally stunted. 'Alright that was pretty bad' he thought 'but it couldn't get much worse then that right?'



"When i was seven and a half years old i was given an infant to care for, as was each other member of my training cadre. It was not explained why i was given this infant, and i did not ask. On the day that my training cadre turned eight we were informed that the infants we had been caring for were mutants with genetic defects that made them unclean in the eyes of the Emperor and unworthy of life in his service, and ordered to terminate them. I carried out that order. Those who were unable to comply with the order were separated from the rest of us and then those of us who had obeyed that order were then formed into groups, and each group was assigned to a trainee who had failed to carry out the Emperor's will. We were then ordered to beat the unworthy cowards to death and purge our cadre of weakness. We complied."

He was sure that his face reflected the horror he felt. If the Medicae saw his expression it did not give her pause, as she continued to speak without stopping.

"Following this right of passage our training was increased. In addition to continuing weapons drills and religious instruction we began to be instructed in hand to hand combat by a Watchmaster. We practiced by fighting with other members of the cadre. The Watchmaster would provide instruction and then he would split us into groups and order us to fight. Sometimes the groups were even, sometimes they were not. Occasionally one trainee would be made to fight many, or the Watchmaster would order us to fight one another individually. Injuries were not uncommon, and several trainees had to be removed from the program. I killed a trainee during a scrum by driving shards of bone into his brain matter when i smashed his nose. The Watchmaster praised me for my ferocity."



"You already know how i was able to secure a place in a provisional regiment through the help of the priest who instructed me, but i neglected to tell you about my final test prior to my graduation from my training cadre. When i was twelve we were formed into groups and armed before being sent into the tunnels to hunt mutants. Several of my group did not return, but those of us who did were sent to Provisional Regiments and made Probationary Guardsmen. I and my regiment then waged war against other cadets on the surface of Krieg for two years before earning the right to be made a member of the Korps proper and being shipped off planet to fight for the Emperor" she said and then fell silent.

When she had finished speaking Rochas turned and embraced her, pulling her tight against his bare chest and ignoring the discomfort he felt as the corners of her armor dug into his flesh. It wasn't a conscious decision on his part so much as an instinctive reaction to what he had heard.

"Sir, what are you doing?" The Medicae asked.

"This" the sergeant said with a voice thick with emotion "Is called a hug Medicae. It is a gesture that serves many functions. In this instance it is meant to give comfort" Though rather that comfort was intended for the Medicea or for himself he wasn't really sure. By the Golden Throne that had been terrible to listen to. "Thank you for sharing that with me Medicae, i'm grateful, and i think no worse of you for it" he said. Though he did want to go find whoever had designed that program and introduce them to the bore of his pistol.

"Understood sir" Said the Krieger. "Sir, would you please release me? I have yet to finish bathing you."



He chuckled a bit and let her go. "Of course Medicae, can't forget why we are in here after all"

"No we cannot sir" She replied. "Sir, I have finished with your back. Please turn around so that i may wash your chest before we move on to your limbs."

Resigning himself to what was going to happen next he mutely shuffled around on the bench until he had turned to face her. After a bit more finagling they ended up in a position where he was seated facing her and she was kneeling in front of him between his legs. As the Medicae reached out towards his chest with the sponge the image of her face inches in front of his dick the night he caught her in the shower flashed through his mind. This image segued into the memories of the last time there had been a woman on her knees for him back on Trieste, a feisty little redheaded Joygirl with a button nose who could do some absolutely amazing things with her ton-

'Oh no no no' the Sergeant thought to himself. He was not going to go there. He was not going to think about it. He was absolutely not going to let his libido superimpose the Medicae's face over his memory of the Joygirl on Trieste with the talented tongue and run it on loop. No. He would not do that to her. Her presence between his legs was entirely asexual. Their purpose for being alone in this room was utilitarian. She was just helping him since he couldn't take care of himself at the moment. He would not let himself make this awkward.

He closed his eyes and took deep breaths while reciting numbers backwards until he calmed down a bit. Once the crisis had been averted he opened his eyes again and allowed himself to look down. The Krieger had just finished running the sponge across his chest and was now moving on to his abs.



He found himself focusing on her hands. They were by no means feminine hands. Her nails were cut short and looked like they had been trimmed with a knife. Her knuckles were dusted with old scars, and her right pinky finger was slightly crooked as if it had broken and then healed wrong. She had relatively few callouses, which was a little surprising to him, but he decided it was likely a result of her habitual use of gloves. Still, she did have long elegant fingers.

After a moments contemplation he decided she had pretty hands. In his opinion at least. True they weren't what was thought of on Batavi as conventionally beautiful, they weren't soft and unblemished with long painted nails like the hands of noble women or someone trying to imitate one, but they had the honest appeal of a working woman's hands. Rochas had known a lot of good women who hadn't had delicate pampered hands. Honestly they had probably been better women for not having delicate pampered hands. He looked up from her hands to the Medicae's mask. 'I wish i could see your face' He thought to himself. She had a pretty face too, and after what they had shared with each other the mask suddenly seemed a little bit impersonal.

"Do you wish me to remove my mask sir?" the Krieger asked bemusedly "I do not understand."

Throne, had he said that out loud? Emperor on Terra had he really just been mooning over her hands? Oh this was not good. He could not wait for the Colonists to get here. He needed to go skirt chasing and get some trim before he did something stupid.

"No Medicae, that won't be necessary" He said quickly. "I misspoke, think nothing of it."

"Understood sir" she said. Then her hands moved the sponge lower, and it passed off of his abs and down towards his nether regions, and he jolted up straight and grabbed her hand before she could go any farther.

"I'll wash down there myself thank you" He said



"Negative" the Medicae replied. "This area is in close proximity to the wound. If you were to make a mistake you could easily get water onto the wound, which cannot be allowed. I will be washing your genitals."

Stunned by her reply and the thoughts that began to run through his head the moment that she said "i will be washing your genitals"he failed to stop her from pulling her hand free from his grasp and beginning to gently caress him with the sponge.

'The Medicae is not fondling my balls, that is a sponge. The Medicae is not stroking my shaft, that is a sponge. This is not foreplay, this is a bath. This is not sexual, i will not get aroused.' Rochas repeated to himself in his head like a mantra, but his little guardsmen was rapidly becoming aware of the Krieger's ministrations. 'Dead babies, Techpriests, Commissar in a speedo, old people vomiting, Tap-dancing aliens' He thought in desperation, but his struggle was in vain.

"Sir, I believe you are exhibiting the beginnings of an 'Erection'" She said.

"A natural response to the stimulation" He responded hoarsely. Oh Emperor why? Oh Emperor how did he get out of this one?

"Fascinating" she said as she continued to stroke his genitals with the sponge.

"Isn't it clean by now?" He asked in a strained voice, intent on moving on and ending this before it got any worse.

"Yes, but as i am unfamiliar with this biological response i wish to observe it further" the Krieger responded, before suddenly reaching out and running her fingers along his cock and then taking it in her grasp.



"Oaugh Emperor Warp damn it Fek" the Sergeant hissed as her fingers closed around his shaft and then squeezed tightly, transforming pleasure into pain. He double over in agony and clutched at his crotch as she released him and then skittered back across the tile floor. "Emperor's bowels why?"

"I am sorry Sir" She said more quickly than he had ever heard her speak before "I meant no harm, i merely intended to ascertain how rigid it was. I assumed it would be comparable to flexed muscle. I did not anticipate that my actions would cause pain."

"It's a very sensitive organ" he growled out, "It's a dick not a bicep! It's just tissue engorged with blood, not fekking muscle!"

He barely heard her apology "I'm sorry sir" She said quietly.

He sat there and held himself a moment more with grit teeth, and then the pain began to fade, and a feeling of guilt began to grow. Okay, so that had hurt a lot, but she hadn't really meant to hurt him. She hadn't known what it was, she just knew it looked hard. He looked over to where she was sitting on the floor, and he realized he didn't care so much about the pain, he just didn't want this to drive a wedge between them. He enjoyed her company, and it'd be a shame to loose one of the last "friendships" that he had over a simple mistake. Honestly this was probably a better outcome than the alternative. If that had gone on much longer Rochas didn't know what he might have done.

"It's okay" he said in a slightly strained voice."I'm sorry i over reacted. You didn't know that was going to hurt me. It wasn't your fault. Just ask in the future before you do something like that alright? If you have questions just ask."

"Yes sir" The Krieger said "I am sorry for disobeying your previous order sir, i will remember to ask in the future".

"Hey listen" he said as he placed a hand on the Medicae's shoulder. "It's fine, really, it was an honest mistake. I don't hold it against you, alright?"

"Understood sir" she said.



"Okay then" Rochas said. "Now that that's settled, i suppose that we should continue right?"

"Of course sir" the Medicae said as he sat back and she moved to resume her previous position "Let us resume your bath."

"Alright" the sergeant said, happy they appeared to have moved on, before adding as an after thought "Just uh, how about we move on to a different part of my anatomy now okay?"

"Yes Sergeant " the Krieger said "I too believe that would be appropriate."

The Medicae then began to once more dab at him with the sponge, although she pointedly went no where near his genitals and actually started in on his calves first before moving up his legs. The wounded thigh she bypassed altogether, and then when his legs were finished she moved on to his arms.

"I really don't see why i can't just do this myself" he said as she leaned in and ran the sponge across his left arm's triceps.

"I told you sir, you could make a mistake which would set back your recovery" the Medicae replied.

"Right right, you did say that" Rochas said, but the sergeant wasn't quite sure if he believed that. It still seemed kinda ridiculous to him for her to be helping him with this. In any case he fell silent after that and let her finish working.When she had finished bathing him she dumped out the tub into the drain, and then put the sponge into it.

"Please wait here sir while i get you a fresh gown" She said.

He nodded and then said "Medicae, before you go could i ask you a favor?"

"What is it sir?" the Krieger responded.

"Could you call me Rochas" He asked.

"Sir?" she said.

"Rochas" he replied. "It's my name. I think after you saving my life and us exchanging our life stories and all that you're entitled to be a little more familiar with me than just calling me Sir or Sergeant"

"Understood...Rochas" she said and then stepped out of the door.



He felt a little thrill go through him when she said his name. It felt good. She soon returned with a fresh gown, and once he was dressed she helped him back into his wheel chair and then pushed him back to his bed. After she had helped him to get back onto his cot the Krieger turned to leave and then spoke to him over her shoulder.

"I will inquire with the chief medical officer as to your request Si- Rochas" the Krieger said.

Once he recalled that he had asked about maybe using a wheelchair to get up and get around during the day he smiled and said "Thank you Medicae."

After she had left and he was once more left alone in his cot. Baiman was gone. He laid back and stared at the ceiling. He wished he had a name to call her by now that she was using his. Of course even if she did have a name it's not like he could use it when others were around since that would give away her secret, but for times when it was just the two of them he found himself wishing he had a more familiar term of address for her.

The sergeant supposed he could give her a name, but that didn't seem right somehow, at least not now. Maybe later, when the colonists came. She would need a name in order to interact with them. After all it would be hard to make friends or date if all anyone could call you was your title.

His insides tightened unpleasantly at that last thought. The Medicae dating some colonist. It put a sour taste in his mouth. After a moment he decided that his discomfort with the idea was because the Medicae deserved better. She was a wonderful woman, she deserved a great man. He'd have to keep an eye on that and make sure she didn't end up with some undeserving ninny. Still, even after coming to his decision his stomach roiled, and his mood was sour.



Perhaps twenty minutes later the Medicae returned pushing a wheel chair.

"I have inquired with the Chief Medical Officer" She said. "He is willing to allow you use of a wheelchair, however before leaving he ask that you inform one of the medical staff of your intended destination and how long you expect to be gone so that it will be possible to locate you, and so that you may be assigned an escort should it be required."

"Excellent" the Sergeant said with a grin on his face at the prospect of getting out of here for a while."That was much quicker than i had expected, thank you Medicae for doing that for me. In that case i think i'll go and visit lieutenant Goossens. Will i need an escort for that?"

"No sir, i do not believe an escort will be necessary. Once you have left the hospital turn left and then inquire after the location of Alpha company" The Krieger said after a moments thought. There was "Sir" again, but he supposed a habit didn't go away in a day and he didn't want to harp on about it. He'd wait and see if she kept doing it and then remind her latter.

"Well then i think i'll be off. Could you help me into the wheel chair please Medicae?" He asked

"Yes sir" She said and helped him out of the bed into the wheelchair "When should you be expected back sir?"

"Oh an hour maybe" Rochas said as he experimented with pushing on the wheels rocking himself back and forth to see how the chair moved.

"Understood sir" Said the Medicae. "When you return find myself or an orderly and have us assist you. Please do not attempt to enter your bed without assistance. "

"Understood" He said as he wheeled himself around to face the door. "Goodbye Medicae"

"Goodbye Rochas " She said as he pushed himself towards the exit, which only served to improve his mood. He was free from his bed and the Medicae was remembering to use his name. It was a good day.



Rochas pushed himself through the doors and looked around. Well they weren't in the trenches anymore. Apparently the regiment had pulled back and based itself in the depot. Which was good, he could get around in a wheel chair on the smooth ground at the Depot, he wouldn't have been able to go anywhere in the muddy trenches.

He paused for a moment once he was out of the doors to enjoy the feeling of warm sunlight on his skin before flagging down a trooper and asking for directions to where Alpha was billeted. The trooper told him they were off by the airfield where they kept the Valkyries.

It was surprisingly quiet as he pushed himself over to the air field. Considering the entire regiment was probably staying here now he would have expected there to be more troopers moving around, but he didn't see too many people on the way to the Airfield. As he arrived he saw a pair of Valkyries lift off, and he stopped to watch as the pilots opened up the throttle and they roared away from the base.

"Brinkerhoff, is that you?" called out a voice from behind him. He turned himself around to see who was talking to him, and saw that it was Sergeant Teunissen. The muscular ebony haired man was standing in full combat gear in front of his squad who were likewise attired. "Rochas you dog it is you. I knew it would take more than some Xeno sniper to kill you."

"I wish i had had your confidence in my ability to survive after i had been shot" Rochas replied. "Before the blood loss got to me and i started going loopy i was convinced it was my time and the Emperor was calling me to his side" a slight exaggeration, but it made for a better story. "You going somewhere? You seem a little overdressed" he said while gesturing at the man's Carapace.

"They have us on standby while Beta and Theta comb the woods" replied the other sergeant "They find the Xenos they radio in, and we get delivered by air to deal with them."



'Well then, that explains why the Valkyries left in such a hurry' thought Rochas.

"So there are a lot of Xenos left in the woods then? " He asked. Had the bombardment been unsuccessful?

"No" said Teunissen "not anymore. They were more frequent that first day, and the patrols found a few pockets of them yesterday, but that was the first time today that we got the call" he said while pointing to where the Valkyries had taken off from. Then he shrugged and said "honestly I think me and my boys are waiting around for nothing. We've scoured the Xenos off of this rock, it's ours now. Even if there are any aliens left out there in the forest there couldn't possibly be enough to threaten us."

"Well that's good news" said Rochas with a smile, and then his face slid into a slightly more nuetral expression and his brow furrowed. "So is the whole regiment not stationed here? It seems kinda empty."

"No the whole regiment is here, they just aren't all here right now."The other Sergeant said. In response Rochas raised a brow, silently asking him to elaborate further, which he did. "What I mean is a lot of the men are off on work details getting ready for the colonists arrival."

That made sense, sort of. "What sort of work?" He asked.

"Well when the colony ship arrives it'll have prefabricated hab blocks and some other necessities in the hold, so we don't have to worry about houses'n whatnot, but there are things you can't carry in a ship's hold you know? Roads, water lines and sewers, that sort of thing. They actually have a lot of the men making fields. Word is that once the initial supplies run out the colony is gonna have to be self sufficient for a while, so command has us preparing land for farming. You know anything about farming Rochas? "

He snorted and replied "no, of course not."

"Neither did I" said Teunissen "I always figured the guys on agriworlds just kinda stuck seeds in the ground and waited for the food to pop up you know?"



"I hadn't really thought about it" said Rochas. He honestly hadn't. In his experience food came out of processors, or from off world in a shipment. There weren't many farms on a Hiveworld after all. " So what do they have the men doing?" He asked.

"Well first they have them dig up a big plot of land and pull out all the stones" said the other Sergeant. "Then they set them to digging ditches and dividing it into sections. Apparently there's more to do before the fields are ready, but that's all they want us to do for now before the colonists arrive with the seeds to plant them. It's not like any of us are gonna be working the fields anyway, so I don't worry about it too much."

"Are the colonists from an agriworld then?" Rochas asked.

"Don't know" said Teunissen. "I haven't heard anything."

"Guess we'll just have to wait and see then" said Rochas. Rather than say anything the other man just grunted in agreement. After a moment Rochas asked "Do you know where I could find the Lieutenant, or any of the surviving members of my squad?"

"Well I don't know about your men" said Teunissen "but the LT should be over there in his office" he said and pointed towards a nearby building.

"Thank you" Rochas said, and then he turned himself towards the building. "See you around."

"Goodbye Rochas" he said. "Best of luck with the leg."



Thank you" Rochas called back over his shoulder to the other Sergeant as he pushed his wheelchair towards the lieutenant's office. Getting through the door was a bit of a trick, but he managed to enter the building without needing anyone to help him. He wasn't really sure where Goossens office was, but he didn't mind taking the time to look for it. It wasn't really like he had anything better to do.

After surveying the first floor and poking his head into each room he came to an unfortunate conclusion. Either the lieutenant wasn't in his office at the moment, or his office wasn't on this floor, and the building had no elevators or ramps.

He stared at the stairwell. The stepped tiles seemed to be mocking him. He looked to his left, and then to his right. He appeared to be alone. Now he could just accept that he wasn't going to be able to find the lieutenant at the moment and leave quietly with none the wiser, and in all honesty that was probably the smart thing to do, but he'd be damned if he let a few stairs beat him.

As he maneuvered himself to the foot of the stairs and grabbed the hand rail he imagined he could hear a husky monotone demanding to know what it was he thought he was doing. He could picture the light reflecting off the lenses of her gasmask as she stared at him disapprovingly, but he pushed it to the side.

They were just stairs, no big deal. He wouldn't put any weight on his injured leg, he would just hop up them on the good one while holding the hand rail for support. If he held the wheelchair in his other hand then he could just get back in it at the top of the stairs.

It would be fine. They were just stairs. He could handle stairs. He wasn't going to let this limit him. He knew he shouldn't do this, but he didn't care. He would not be helpless. He had come here to find the lieutenant and he wasn't going to let a few raised steps stop him. He was Alpha. He was a decorated combat veteran. He was going up these stairs.



He grasped the hand rail tightly and planted his foot firmly on the ground, and then he began to pull himself up out of his wheelchair. It was more difficult than he had expected it to be. He felt uncharacteristically weak. But though it required more effort than he expected he had soon gained his feet and was halfway out of his chair when he heard a voice behind him.

"Uh Sarge, what are you doing?" the voice asked.

Caught in the middle of his awkward one legged transition from seated to standing, with his knee bent and his posterior hanging half a foot above his chair, he finished straightening out before turning to see who it was. When he turned and looked he saw that it was Trooper Eikenborn and a few other men he didn't recognize. Probably his new squad.

"I'm looking for lieutenant Goossens" He replied.

"Unless i'm mistaken it looks like you came here in a wheel chair" Alfons said as the other men trailed off and left. They looked tired, and they were in full kit, but they didn't look like they'd been in combat. Probably just came off of standby. In moments Rochas was alone with the former member of his squad, who walked quickly towards him while continuing to speak. "which you really should sit back down in. If you need the LT someone can go and grab him for you, but i'm not letting you kill yourself trying to go up those stairs."

Slightly chagrined Rochas felt the need to defend himself "I would have been fine, they're just stairs."

"Sir, you came in a wheelchair" the Trooper responded as he reached Rochas and guided him back down into his chair. "What in the name of Terra made you think stairs were a good idea?"



Rochas paused for a moment. Honestly it was a terrible idea, and he had known that. This just made it even more blatantly obvious. "I don't know" He said "I suppose i was just sick of not being able to do things on my own. Last few days i couldn't even take a piss without having to call for someone to get rid of the bed pan for me. Guess i just wanted to do this myself."

"Nothing to be ashamed of sarge" said Eikenborn. "I mean you got shot. No one is gonna think less of you if you need a while to get back on your feet."

Rochas wasn't comfortable saying it out loud, but he supposed the man had a point. They sat there in silence for a moment before Alfons asked "Would you like me to go and get the lieutenant?"

"No" the sergeant said "No i'll speak to him another time. Actually, since you're here, do you think you could spare a moment? We didn't have much of a chance to talk when you and Gelen visited me before."

"Yeah i suppose i could stick around for a bit sarge." He Said "What do you need?"

"Well how have you been? Rochas asked "How's the new squad?"

"S'alright" Alfons said " Haven't had any problems with them, though i don't exactly feel close with them either. It is what it is."

"I'm sure you'll get along great once you've had a bit more time with them" He said. "Remember when you and Lauwers first got transferred in from the 47th? It was rocky at first, but before long it was as if you two had always been part of the squad. Give it a bit."

"Yeah you're right sarge" Said Eikenborn quietly. "I just miss everyone you know? We'd gone through a lot together."

"We certainly did" Rochas said quietly, and they sat there together in silence for a moment lost in reflection before Alfons spoke up.

"Hey sarge listen, i got something i want to say" He said.

"What is it?" the sergeant asked.

"I wanted to thank you" the Trooper said. " I wouldn't have made it through Trieste if it wasn't for you."



Rochas shifted uncomfortably in his wheelchair. "Nothing to thank me for" He said. "I just did my duty is all, same as anyone else." They fell silent again for a moment before the other man responded quietly.

"Duty didn't demand that you care" Eikenborn whispered before gaining a little volume. "You remember those Cadian boys we met? How they said only idiots and fresh meat made friends since they'd just die on you anyway? They didn't care, and as far as i'm concerned they can go sit on a chain-sword and spin, cause no matter what kind of fancy honors they have none of them will ever be half of the man you are. You bled for us sarge. You cared, and i'll never forget that."

"And how many are left?" Rochas asked. Oh Emperor this hurt. He didn't think about this, didn't let himself think about it, but the dam was bursting and it came pouring out anyway. He wasn't shouting, but his voice was loud and it was vehement. "What good did it do? I left Batavi with ten men, and only one of them is left and he's missing a fekking arm! And the men who replaced them when i let my men slip through my fingers? I lost most of them too! There's only three of you left! I failed them, i failed them and they're dead. They're dead and all that's left is trinkets in a fekking box!"

"You didn't fail anyone sarge" Alfons replied as he put a hand on his shoulder. "Sometimes there's nothing you can do. It's just the way it is, but i know you always did your best."

"I should have done more" he said. It came out a bit quieter. After his outburst he felt drained.

"You did more than enough Rochas" said Eikenborn. "You may not agree with me, but i stand by what i said. I wouldn't have survived on Trieste all those years without you looking out for us. Even if i'm not part of your squad anymore you'll always be my sergeant, just remember that. You didn't fail, and i know none of them would blame you."



Rochas swallowed and kept his mouth shut. He didn't trust himself to speak.

"Listen, if you don't believe me ask around" said the former member of his squad. "Ask Gelen or the Lieutenant or even the Medicae, i can guarantee that none of them blame you. The only one who blames you is yourself."

The sergeant grunted in response and Eikenborn squeezed his shoulder once before saying "Well i need to get some rack time. I hope you'll stop by again. Me and Gelen were thinking of trying to get a card game going this weekend. You'd be welcome to attend if you like."

Rochas nodded his head and said "Thank you Alfons, i'll try to make it." His voice came out thick with emotion, which irritated him. It was bad enough he'd broken down in front of Eikenborn like he had, but now he sounded like he was gonna cry or something. It was humiliating. The hollow feeling in his breast was quickly being replaced by churning emotions once more. Eiekenborn nodded and clapped him on the back before getting up and walking away. He slipped into a hallway on the right and disappeared like the other members of his squad had. The sergeant sat there in his chair for a minute before he sighed and then started to push himself towards the exit. He'd had enough social interaction for one day, and his cot was starting to seem real appealing.



He shunted himself along quickly, pushing himself just a wee bit faster than was probably wise. He made very good time. He frowned and cursed when he got to the doors and struggled to get through them. He wasn't really used to this whole wheelchair business, and even after his little jaunt and the practice he'd gotten he was still figuring out how to get around in one. It didn't help that he didn't feel like being patient about figuring it out and was trying to brute force his way through the problem. He was still trying to negotiate his way through them when someone came up behind him and pulled them open for him. He shot the trooper a glare, and then immediately felt bad for doing so. Man was just trying to help, not his fault Rochas was in a piss poor mood.

"Thank you" He said curtly and then moved through the now open doorway into the hospital. As he propelled himself along towards his bed he hoped that he would make it unnoticed, but fate was not kind. When he was about halfway to his cot he passed by the Medicae, who was reading another patient's chart. She looked up from the chart and saw him.

"Sir, you have returned early" she said as she fell in behind him and began to follow him. "Is there a reason for your early return?"

"Just felt like coming back" He said and pushed his wheelchair just a bit faster.

"Sir you must slow down" said the Medicae as she took quick strides to keep up with him. "This speed is not safe."

"Right" he said as he slowed down a bit. They were pretty much at his cot anyway. "Sorry."



"Hey sarge, you're back" said Baiman, who was lying down in his cot flipping through a worn copy of the primer. "Where've you been?"

"Out" Rochas replied in a clipped tone. "I was looking for the LT but i couldn't find him."

Able to sense that the sergeant was not in the mood for small talk Baiman said "Okay then, sorry to hear that" and then returned to his reading.

Rochas reached his cot and then placed both of his hands on it and began to prepare to lift himself up when the Krieger grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Sir, i have already informed you that you require assistance" she said "why are you disregarding my instructions?"

He wanted to bite off a retort at her. It was just getting into a bed. Surely he could be trusted to pull himself into a bed on his own. It grated to be treated like an invalid. He opened his mouth intent on telling her what he thought of her instructions, but caught himself. It wouldn't do any good to lash out at her. "Sorry, i forgot." He said and allowed her to help him into the bed.

"Sir, are you feeling well?" She asked once he was situated.

"I'm fine" He said.

"Understood sir" She said, and then she stood by his bed for a moment before leaving and returning to the bed of the patient whose chart she had been examining. Rochas watched the Krieger go, and then he laid back and stared at the ceiling and tried to fall asleep. Unfortunately sweet oblivion was slow coming, and he sat and stewed for a while before finally drifting off.


The nights rest did not improve his mood, for he did not sleep well. Seemingly called to him by his admission of guilt the specters of the men he had lost haunted him that night. They surrounded him. Silently watching him. Condemning him with their eyes. Each of the specters bore the wounds that had killed them.

Otten was missing half of his face where the bullet had blown through his skull, and Rochas could see through the exit hole. Raske had the hook he'd been suspended by in his jaw and strips of flesh missing where the cultists had flayed him and cut on him before hanging him up for them to find. He was carrying Lauwers' head. There hadn't been much of Lauwers left after the grenade had gone off. The other ghosts were holding his parts. Hendriks had what was left of Lauwers' left arm. He had several gaping holes in his chest and legs from where the spikes had gone through him. He'd been on point and had fallen through an undermined section of tunnel flooring into a pit. Boers, who'd had one of his legs cut off at the knee, leaned on Addens, who'd been eviscerated by the same axe. Jans' flesh was charred black and his eye sockets were empty. The organs they had contained had been boiled out when he got hit with a flamer. Meisner's corpse didn't have a head, it'd been taken. Kranz was missing a good chunk of his throat and some of his shoulder where the Xenos had bitten down, and Ramaaker and Pender had holes in them where they had been shot. Haanrath he hadn't seen die, but his mind conjured up the image of the Corporal covered in lacerations where the cruel curved blades of the Xenos had carved through his flesh.

He whirled about, but no matter which direction he span they were there around him, watching him with those dead eyes. He tried to run but they would appear in front of him. He screamed and shouted and begged them to just say something, anything, even if it was just to yell at him, but all they did was silently watch with cold eyes.

He jerked awake from his fitful slumber covered in a cold sweat. It was still dark inside the room. He'd woken up before the dawn it seemed. It was quiet. The only sound was the shallow breathing of the sleeping men and a few beeping machines. Rochas took deep breaths until he had calmed down, but even after his heart slowed his chest still felt like someone had carved out a hollow in it. He'd woken up from the nightmare, but the images refused to leave him. He could see them painted across his eyelids when he closed his eyes to try and go back to sleep. Guilt ate away at him as he lay there alone in the dark on his cot. He waited unable to sleep and unable to escape his thoughts for hours before the dawn came and the orderlies started to flick on the lights and check on the wounded men.

When an orderly came around to administer his medications and ask how he was doing Rochas just grunted at him and grabbed the meds. The sergeant swallowed them dry before the man could produce a glass of water for him and then waited for the orderly to leave. When instead of walking away he produced from behind his back a series of injections Rochas glared at him. He kept his mouth firmly shut and ignored the man's attempts to engage him in conversation as he jabbed him with the needles and pumped him full of Emperor only knows what. After the first few injections had been completed and Rochas still refused to respond to him the orderly stopped talking and they proceeded in tense silence. A few of the injections went into his wounded leg, and after they had been administered he felt what could best be described as a burning for a time. Eventually the man finished his work and moved on to the next patient. Baiman, who had watched the exchange, didn't bother to try and talk to him.


After the orderly had gone he was left alone with his thoughts once more, until that afternoon when the Medicae came to change his bandages.

"Please lift your leg so that i may change your bandages sir." She said, and he silently complied. Once his leg was lifted up and his knee bent she slid the padded block into place underneath his knee and got to work. Neither of them spoke as she unwound the wrappings and cleaned the wound. They still hadn't spoken by the time that she finished and began to wrap his leg again. He wasn't really in the mood for conversation, and without a reason to speak she seemed content with the silence. Rochas thought that once she was finished the Krieger would leave without saying anything, but once his leg was again bandaged and laid down on the cot she spoke.

"I will return to help you bathe after i have finished with my other patients sir" the Medicae said as she stood up, and then she abruptly turned and left the side of his bed and walked over to another nearby cot.

'Wonderful' he thought sarcastically as he flopped back onto his cot to settle in and wait. He didn't have to wait long, as shortly thereafter the Krieger came around with his wheelchair. She helped him in and then pushed him back to the same small tiled room. Once he was inside she closed and locked the door and he pulled off his gown, and then she helped him onto the bench.

"Lets just get this over with" He muttered and closed his eyes. He really didn't feel like dealing with this at the moment. He wasn't sure whether or not she heard him. He could hear her getting the tub ready and pulling off her gloves. And then e was surprised to hear a little more rustling and something else also being set down. Curious, he turned to see what it was, and saw that she had pulled off her gas-mask.



"What?" He said, slightly confused by what the Medicae had done.

"Last time you said you wished i had removed my mask" she said in her usual monotone. "I did not see the harm in doing so." Un-muffled by the mask she did sound slightly more feminine than usual, though her voice was still quite deep for a woman and husky. Some might describe it as mannish, but Rochas admitted to himself it was kinda smokey and sexy. To him at least. Not that he would ever voice that thought.

He nodded mutely. That made sense. She stared at him for a moment with unblinking grey eyes. It was a penetrating stare. It almost felt like she could see through him. It made him a little uncomfortable. She watched him a moment more, and then her full lips parted as she began to speak.

"Rochas since your return from visiting the Lieutenant you have deviated radically from your normal behavioral patterns. Is there something wrong?" The blonde asked. "Are you experiencing pain? If this is the case it is important that you tell me, as it may indicate complications, and i must be aware of your condition in order to administer treatment."

"I'm fine Medicae" he said. "There is nothing wrong."

"Sir prior to this i have never observed you behaving in a manner similar to your conduct since your return. I do not believe that your actions are without cause "she replied."The Chief medical officer informed me when i was assigned to this unit that it is not uncommon for Batavian men to attempt to hide their weakness or pain in order to protect their pride, and that i should be aware of this possibility while treating my patients. All signs indicate that you are attempting to hide something from me, which is causing you distress. Please Rochas tell me. Let me help you."



The sergeant bristled and turned away from her. He wanted to tell her he didn't need any help, that she was being silly and there was nothing to worry about. In fact he almost said so, but the words died on his lips. He knew she was right, and he knew that the Medicae knew that she was right. Denying it was pointless, but he still didn't want to talk about it. How could he? How could he admit his guilt? What if she blamed him as well? Rochas didn't think he could handle that. He was hyper aware of the sound of the Krieger's breathing behind him as she sat patiently and waited.

"I don't... it's not" he stammered out, unsure of how to say what he wanted to say. How he could satisfy her curiosity without provoking further inquiry into this painful subject. "I'm not in pain. There is nothing wrong with me, physically speaking." He said finally.

'There, that was a good response' he thought to himself. 'She's just concerned because she thinks it's something going wrong with my leg and she's in charge of patching me up. Once she knows it's nothing medical she'll let it be.'

"Then the cause of your distress is emotional?" She asked.

"Yes" Rochas replied. "Just something i need to work out for myself." He didn't see it, but he imagined her head nodding. Now that that was taken care of they could move on with the bathe, and then he could get out of here and away from this situation. He sat still and waited for the sensation of the sponge brushing across his back, but it didn't come. He was instead surprised when the Medicae wrapped her arms around him and embraced him, squeezing him against her armored form. It was as uncomfortable as it was unexpected, as the edges of her armor dug into his back.

Stunned he was unable to vocalize more than a confused "Why?"

"The purpose of this gesture is to bring the recipient comfort yes?" She asked rhetorically. "I believe you are in need of it. Am i preforming the 'hug' properly?"



Rochas snorted. 'Am I preforming the hug properly' indeed. Felt good to laugh, even a little bit, and her concern warmed his heart. Sure he couldn't hear it in her voice, she spoke in the same monotone as always, but her touch and her insistence made it clearer than her tone of voice ever could.

"Yes" he said. "You are preforming the 'hug' properly, and I appreciate it, but could you let me go now? It's a little uncomfortable to have your chestplate digging into my back."

"Understood sir" the Krieger said, and she slowly loosened her hold before releasing him. The lack of sharp edges digging into his spine was nice, but he found himself missing her presence nontheless. That did however lead him to a question.

"Why are you wearing your armor anyway?" He asked. " You can't possibly be expecting to end up in a fire fight here."

"Vigilance is a virtue sir, and a servant of the Emperor should always be prepared to serve Him." The Medicae said. "Is my standard response to that inquiry. It is accepted as a personality quirk that does not hinder my performance and is quickly forgotten. The armor hides my chest and helps to give me a more masculine profile."

"I see" He said. It did make sense.

"And it is technically part of my uniform." The krieger added. "It would be against regulations for me to be out of uniform, even partially."

"And removing your mask? " He asked

"Also constitutes a violation" the Medicae replied. "As you have chosen not to report me for unlawful enlistment I determined it was unlikely that you would report me for being out of uniform. The probability was further mitigated by the fact that you requested it."

Rochas laughed a bit more. He felt much better after talking with her and being distracted from his ruminations. "Thank you Medicae, I feel much better" he said. He thought of Alfons' suggestion that he ask and see what the others thought. He wasn't so afraid to ask now. "Medicae, may I ask you something?"



He turned to face her, and the Medicae replied "of course Sir."

Well now he was committed, but he wasn't quite sure how to broach the topic. Rochas didn't want to just blurt out 'do you think it's my fault the men in my squad died'. He may get an answer if he did, but it probably wouldn't be the answer he was looking for, and he didn't think that was the right way to go about this. Rather than just ask he'd need to establish some points of reference before he did so she would understand. He mulled over how to start for a bit before asking "Medicae were you ever in a command position? Have you ever given orders?"

She stopped to think for a moment before responding "My position as Quartermaster was outside the standard chain of command, but it was a position of importance. In seeing to my duties i had the authority to override a Watchmaster if necessary.
However with the exception of matters of supply and troop disposition it was not my place to give orders. The only times i provided orders in combat was when i required assistance to preform my duties, or if the Watchmaster had been slain and it was necessary that i fulfill his duties temporarily until a new Watchmaster could be assigned to the squad."

"So you have given orders in battle then?" He asked

"Affirmative" the Medicae replied. "On three occasions it became necessary for me to assume command of a squad during an engagement."

"And did anyone ever die while following your orders?" Rochas asked

"Yes" she said.

He paused and waited, but it seemed she didn't intend to elaborate, so he continued asking his questions. "Do you ever think of them? Ever feel...responsible?"

"I do not often spend time thinking of previous battles" she said. "Please elaborate on what you mean by responsible."

"Do you ever feel guilty?" He asked.

"Why would I?" She said "I did not fail in my duty or fall to cowardice. I obeyed my orders, and was able to achieve the objective. Why would i feel guilty?"



He was beginning to think that perhaps this wasn't a very good idea. She didn't seem to be grasping what he was trying to get at, which made sense actually now that he thought about it. After all on Krieg they were 'born to die for the Emperor'. Now that he thought about it for a Krieger having one of the men in your unit die probably wasn't a tragedy, it was just part of life. At worst it might be an inconvenience, as that would leave you a man short until you got a replacement. Did they even mourn the dead? Why would they, when the purpose of their existence was to martyr themselves? Throne, they probably celebrated. 'Hey did you hear about 408? He's with the Emperor now, lucky git.'

Apparently he'd been thinking to long. He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of the Krieger's voice. "Sir, what is the purpose of this line of inquiry? I do not understand why you are asking me these questions."

"Because i do" He said sharply without thinking, and then realized after it came out that what he had said probably made no sense to her, so he explained. "Because i do. Feel guilty that is. About the men who died under my command. Their deaths were my fault. I failed them." Well there it was. It was out in the open now, he couldn't take it back. She'd probably hate him now. He slumped down and rested his head in his hands.

The room was quiet, and then she spoke. "I do not understand. This assertion is not consistent with my observations."

"I failed them and they are dead" He said. "What's there to understand?"

"Did you disobey your orders?" the Krieger asked

"No" He said

"Did you not carry out your duties as sergeant?" She asked

"Well no, i wasn't derelict in the fulfillment of my duties" Rochas replied.

"Did you exhibit cowardice?" The Medicae said.

"No!" He said forcefully, angry that she would even ask him that. "No i did not."



"Then i do not understand how you have failed" She said. "During my time in your squad i have observed you to be a devout and skilled servant of the Emperor. You exhibit good judgement, are effective in maintaining the moral of your men, and fight well. I have never seen you display cowardice or weakness in the face of the enemy. I consider you an exemplary soldier. "

"Soldiers die in war. This is not a surprise or a tragedy, it is an inevitability. We are sworn to fight, and die, in the Emperor's service. That men under your command have died does not mean you have failed. If you had failed then you would have been tried and punished for your failure. This has not happened, therefore your commanding officers do not consider you to have failed. You carried out your duty as a servant of the Emperor, and your men did the same. If this duty demanded their lives, then they are blessed to have died in His name, and have joined the ranks of the honored dead basking in the Emperor's glory by His side."

He blinked at her, and then he blinked again. Whatever he had been going to say had been knocked out of his head. He hadn't expected that, and it had twisted him up a bit inside. When she had started out he had felt a warmth growing in his chest as she spoke well of him, but her callous attitude towards his men's deaths had hit him like a punch to the gut and killed the warmth in his breast. He probably would have been angry at her if it wasn't for that sermon at the end. He couldn't really think of anything else to call that last bit. It felt like being in church almost, as passion bled into the Medicae's voice when she talked about the reward awaiting a faithful servant of the Emperor. The reward she wholeheartedly believed his men had earned. It was hard to argue with that, and hearing the passion and faith in her voice break through her usual monotone had derailed his indignation. Blunt and callous she may have been, but she was also sincere.



"You don't-" Rochas began to say, and then stopped. He had been going to say 'you don't understand', and then try to explain it to her, but saying it out loud had prompted a realization. She did not understand, could not understand on a fundamental level, and he wasn't going to change that today here in this room. Whatever it was that made him feel guilt, whatever it was that caused him to feel pain over his men's deaths, she didn't have that. It had been driven out of her. Her approach to the issue was cold, clinical, and ultimately logical.

They had died in the name of the Emperor, ergo in her mind they had died well. Their deaths were glorious testaments to their dedication, and guaranteed reward after leaving the mortal coil. Therefore there was no reason for their deaths to elicit negative emotional responses like guilt in her mind. Guilt was reserved for failure. By her criterion he had not failed. Her criterion did not include getting all the men under his command back alive. Her parameters for failure were different. Did he complete the mission? Did he obey orders? Did he fulfill his duties to the best of his ability? Was he steadfast in the face of the enemy?

In her mind it was a matter of performance. A matter of tangible measurable factors. Emotional, ethical, or moral considerations had no place in her evaluation. She simply did not feel what he felt, and as such could not understand. How did you explain emotion to someone? You couldn't. If they didn't feel it they couldn't understand. While Eikenborn may have disagreed with him, he had understood. Rochas had no doubt if he asked the Lieutenant or Gelen they would understand as well, but the Medicae did not. She was human. He was sure she had the capacity, buried though it might be, but he didn't know how to reach that and he wasn't likely to figure it out right this second. It would take time, if the answer could be found at all.



But while her reasoning may not have resonated on an emotional level, he was forced to conclude that the Krieger's logic was sound. He'd believed himself to have failed them because he'd felt guilty, but now that it had been laid out for him and he thought about it he couldn't find anything he could point at and say 'this is how i failed them'. He'd done what he could, it just hadn't been enough. It wasn't enough to banish the pain, but acknowledging that did blunt the edges a little. He still hurt, but it was more of a dull ache now.

"I don't what sir?" the Medicae asked

"You don't..." Rochas scrambled to find something to say, someway to tie this up. "Need to keep trying to convince me. I understand what you are saying, and you do have a point, but that isn't going to resolve this for me. Not by itself at least. It helps, and i appreciate that, but even though on some level i know you're right i still don't feel it. Thank you for your concern, but i think that's all you can do for me. It's just a difference in our cultures."

There was a moment of silence, and then the Krieger responded. "Understood sir" She said. "I regret that i am unable to provide further assistance. Please resolve the issue as quickly as possible, and inform me if there is anything i can do to expedite the process." She paused for a moment before speaking again, and she stumbled over her words a bit when she did. "I do not...I...It is not pleasant to see you like this Rochas. Recover quickly."



Rochas smiled. "I'm sorry for worrying you" He said. "I'll take care of it, just relax. I'm sure you have enough to worry about already." She cared. Maybe. He thought it sounded like she did anyway. It was a warm feeling.

She nodded "Good" she replied. "May we proceed with your bath sir?"

The Sergeant nodded, and the Krieger picked up the sponge. He closed his eyes. He already knew from previous experience it might be difficult to maintain his composure. Seeing her face while she cleaned him off with the sponge would not make it any easier for him, regardless of the blank expression she would be wearing. The Medicae was still a pretty woman after all.

The bath was quick and efficient. Fortunately this time she did not linger on certain parts of his anatomy, and they finished without incident. Once he was clean the Medicae pulled her mask back on, and left briefly before returning with a clean gown for him, which he was quite happy to pull on. Once he was decent the Medicae helped him back into his wheelchair and then returned him to his bed. As they approached it he was able to see that Baiman was lying in his cot, and Rochas decided to talk to him and apologize for giving him the cold shoulder before.

"Will you be leaving the premises today sir?" The Krieger asked as she helped him into the bed.

"Yeah, I think I'll go take a look around in a bit" Rochas said "I'm just gonna talk with Baiman for a while first."

"Understood sir" the Medicae said. "Please inform an orderly before you leave."

He nodded and she turned and left, leaving him with Baiman who had rolled over to face him.

"So you wanna talk now huh?" the one armed trooper asked.

"Yeah" Rochas said sheepishly. "Listen i'm sorry about before it's just-"

"Don't worry sarge I get it" Said Baiman "No need to apologize. It's hard to get used to not being able to do everything you could before. At first I kept trying to grab things with an arm that wasn't there no more, drove me mad."



"Uh Baiman" Rochas tried to interject, but the man just kept going right over him.

"But it's not so bad, I mean you'll be back on your feet eventually and I'm gonna get my iron fist, so there really isn't any reason to be all mopey about it y'know?" Baiman continued, apparently completely unaware of Rochas' attempt to speak. "I'm glad you realized that on your own sarge, I was starting to worry I'd have to try and get some sense into you myself, but I wasn't sure how to go about that. It's not like I could knock it into you. I mean I could probably smack you and run since I got two good legs and you don't, but I'd have to come back here to sleep eventually and sometimes I swear your biceps are bigger round than my head, and I really wasn't looking forward to-"

"Baiman!" Rochas said loudly cutting him off. A bit too loudly, several other people in the room turned to look at them, and there was a moment of awkwardness while they waited for the other's interest to die down so they could continue to talk. Eventually they were no longer the center of attention for their section of the hospital, and the watchers returned to whatever it was they had been doing before. In a quieter voice Rochas continued "Baiman, I appreciate the concern, but that wasn't what was bothering me."

"Oh" said trooper "well what was it then?"

Here Rochas hesitated. If he told Baiman it was personal and that he should leave it alone, the man would probably respect his wishes. That would probably be the most comfortable thing to do. Just tell him not to worry about it and trade a few more pleasantries before leaving, content in the knowledge that they were good and Baiman wasn't angry with him. It was pretty appealing to let things play out like that, but he didn't.

"Hey Listen, about Trieste" He said and then trailed off. The other trooper's demeanor immediately grew serious, and he straightened out to listen. "Do you think they blame us? The ones who didn't make it I mean."



Baiman stared at him long and hard after that. Just stared at him, and then said in a voice that was barely there "what about Lauwers sarge?" It wasn't a soft voice. It wasn't a voice meant to be comforting. It was the voice of a man doing his best to hold back a great deal of emotion, and succeeding by only a small margin.

Rochas began to open his mouth to respond, but Baiman just kept going before he could speak. "Lauwers didn't jump on that grenade cause you ordered him to. He didn't do it cause some Commissar had a pistol to his head, he did it cause he cared about us. He did it for us! And if I hear you suggest again he might of regretted it I don't care if you are my superior and damn near twice my size, I'm going to beat the shit out of you."

The one armed trooper leaned in closer as he spoke. "Sitting around and wallowing in guilt don't do the dead any good at all sarge. Making yourself miserable don't do em any good. They've already gone on and are sitting with the Emperor. All you do moping is make em worry about you. You care about those men you go out there and honor their sacrifice by living, cause thats what they'd want for you, cause they cared about you same as you cared about them."

Rochas wasn't sure, but he wouldn't be suprised if he was sitting there with his jaw hanging open. He was too stunned to even be angry, but Baiman wasn't done yet.

"That's what I'm going to do" he said as he leaned back. " When those colonists get here imma find me a woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, and I'm going to make sweet sweet love to her until she can't walk straight, and then I'm going to do it again. And when my first son is born I'm gonna name him after Lauwers. And when that boy asks I'm going to tell him I named him after the glorious son of a bitch who saved my life. I'm going to tell that boy he was named after a hero. I'm gonna make sure every last one of my kids and grandkids, and their kids, know about that man."


Rochas wasn't sure what to say as he desperately tried to back pedal "I never meant to...I mean of course I know that Lauwers..." He trailed off and fell silent under Baiman's gaze. Suddenly the sergeant felt about three feet tall. He was reminded of his mother reaming him out after he'd had a fight with Agner. Some small voice in the back of his mind wondered if this was how his men felt when he called them to the carpet.

"That's what I'm going to do" said Baiman after staring at him for a moment more. "I'm going to carry on since they can't, and that's what you ought to do too Sarge. You need to get your head out of your ass. It don't suit you acting like this. You're supposed to be the one telling me what to do and dispensing words of wisdom, not the other way around. It's unnatural is what it is, me being the one with sense between the two of us."

The sergeant snorted "Oh come on, you were never that bad."

Baiman's eyes softened and got a bit of his normal mischievous twinkle back as he raised an eyebrow. "Do you want the list of times you kept my ass from getting shot by the Commissar in alphabetical order, or by order of magnitude? Cause if you don't recall I can refresh your memory, but we might be here a while if I do. It's a long list."

Rochas snorted again. It was a long list. "No that won't be necessary, I can recall just fine." He said, and then paused for a moment before continuing in a more somber tone. "Thank you Baiman, for everything. And I'm sorry, I never meant to disrespect Lauwers' memory. It just..."

"It hurts" the other man finished for him. "I know sarge, but you can't let it eat at you. They wouldn't want that, and if you're so busy beating yourself up about things that happened years ago you're gonna miss out in the now. And we can't have that. No we definitely can't afford to have you all mopey when the colonists get here. You gotta get you a girl too so there'll be a litter of your giant spawn to call me uncle."

Rochas smiled "You think I'd let a terrible influence like you near my kids Baiman?"

The one armed trooper brought his singular limb up and placed his hand over his heart before affecting a wounded expression. "Sarge that hurts me to hear you say that. I thought we was like brothers after all these years together. You've trusted me to watch your back in a fire fight, what possible reason could you have not to trust me around your kids?"

"Would you like the list of times I've saved your ass from getting shot by the Commissar in alphabetical order, or by order of magnitude?" Rochas asked with a grin. The two men looked at each other for a moment, and then they both broke down laughing.

Rochas doubled over. It was hard to breathe. It felt so good to laugh, like a knot in his chest that had been pulling things uncomfortably tight had loosened up. He chuckled a bit more and breathed in deep. The release of that tension was glorious. It really did feel great to laugh.

He straightened up with a smile on his face. He was content to just bask in the moment. He sat there with a grin on his face for perhaps a minute, maybe more, before his face began to shift into a more thoughtful expression and he stared off into the distance as something Baiman had said registered with him.

"Kids" he whispered to himself.

"Hmm?" Baiman hummed at him inquisitively.

"Just something you said" Rochas replied absent-mindedly, still staring off at nothing in particular with his brow slightly furrowed.

"What sarge?" He asked. "You aren't actually making a list of the times you kept me from getting myself shot are you? "

"No" said the Sergeant. "No I'm not. I'm thinking about kids."

"Kids?" Said Baiman as he reoriented himself so he was facing Rochas again.

"Yeah. You know, kids. Children." He replied. "I never thought about it before. Having kids I mean. On Trieste all I really worried about was keeping everyone alive and how long we had before we got rotated out for leave, or how long until we got rotated back when we were on leave. I never really thought about having kids."

"Well it's not like any of us thought we'd ever get the chance" the one armed man said. "I certainly hadn't figured on it, and it was better not to think about that sort of thing back then."

Rochas nodded his head and hummed. "Yeah, but now...by the Throne Baiman, kids. I can't believe it. I'm gonna have kids."

"Sounding awful certain of yourself there Rochas" Baiman teased. "What makes you so sure you won't strike out and end up old and alone? It's not like you got a girl lined up already."



The Sergeant snorted. Initially he wasn't going to dignify Baiman with a response, but then a perverse desire came over him to have a bit of a laugh even if it was a joke only he would get. Rochas looked around to make sure the Medicae wasn't in earshot, he wouldn't want her to misunderstand and think he was outing her. When he saw that the coast was clear he leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. "Yep you caught me, found me the only girl in the regiment. Possibly the whole planet."

Baiman just rolled his eyes, but Rochas wasn't done yet. "Real fine looking gal too" He said as he waggled his eyebrows and moved his hands in front of him in the outline of an hourglass "Filled out in all the right places."

"Mmmhm" Lambert hummed. Incredulous, but apparently willing to play along. "And where did you meet this broad exactly?"

"Ran into her in the shower when she was starkers." He replied as his face split into a large grin. Knowing Baiman thought he was talking out his ass, and that he was therefore getting this past him, was a heady feeling. "Course she didn't seem to mind none."

"No of course not." The trooper said in a long suffering tone. "She was so captivated by your masculinity that she fell instantly and madly in love with you."

"Well I don't know about love." Rochas said as his smile got just the littlest bit bigger. "But she was awful fascinated by my dick."

"Really Rochas?" Lambert asked exasperatedly. "Really? I mean I know you're a big man, but bragging about it like some Juvie?"

At this point Rochas knew he really should stop, but he couldn't resist saying one last thing. "Can't keep her hands off me. Got a real soft touch. Knows how to take care of a man."

"Piss off sarge I ain't listening to your bullshit" Lambert replied. "Leave the bad jokes and yarns to Gelen. You suck at it. No way is anyone thick enough to believe you found yourself a willing woman on this rock."



"All right" Rochas laughed. "I guess I was laying it on a bit thick. No need to get your panties in a twist."

Baiman grunted and said. "It's insulting, you thinking I would fall for that."

"Oh come on" the sergeant replied. "It was just a little laugh, don't take it personal."

The one armed trooper didn't say anything, and Rochas worried he may have actually offended the man, but after a moment Baiman passed him his copy of the primer. More importantly he was giving him the "alternative reading material" that he kept hidden in it, which told Rochas all was forgiven. Honestly Rochas wasn't terribly interested in giving it a look at the moment, but he spent some time and thumbed through it to be courteous and show that he had gotten the message before he handed it back to the other man with a smile and left the hospital.

On his way out he told an orderly he was going to be a while, an hour or two maybe. There wasn't anywhere specific he wanted to go or anything he had to do per se, he just wanted to be moving. He ended up pushing himself along the outside perimeter of the depot in his wheel chair and looking out at the surrounding landscape. He could see where the ground had been carved up by the trench networks, but beyond that it was a field of green. In the distance he could see wooded mountains. He found himself looking up at the sky. That blue ceiling and the meandering white puffs that danced across it fascinated him.

It was the first time he really stopped to appreciate it all. He'd spent most of his life in hives. Either on Batavi or on Trieste. When he had come to this planet and moved into the trenches the Kriegers had dug he'd been too busy cursing the cold and the wet and the mud to look at the beauty around him, but now it seemed to hit him all at once.

He breathed deep. The air was clean and crisp. It didn't smell like chemicals and unwashed bodies, and it didn't burn going down. The land was alive around him. It was beautiful.



It was beautiful, and it was theirs. It was their land now. Their clean air. Their green hills. Their mountains and valleys. Their virgin woodlands. He stayed there for some time content to just breathe deep and appreciate the landscape around him. He stayed so long the sky began to tint orange and red as the star the planet orbited passed over the horizon. He took a moment to appreciate the colorful patterns painted across the sky and the sight of the sun descending behind the distant mountains before turning around and pushing himself back to the hospital. It wouldn't do to be out after the sun set, he was probably late as it was already.
When he got back he was given a very pointed look by an orderly and told to be a bit more prompt in the future.

His life in the hospital settled into routine. He'd joke with Baiman, and the Medicae would come around and clean his wound and replace the bandages. He was given pills and regular injections. Time passed. He saw Gelen and Eikenborn occasionally. The lieutenant stopped by once, and every day he made excursions out of the hospital to breathe fresh air and appreciate their new world. He never got used to the Medicae helping him bathe. He'd distract himself by asking about her day, or babbling about something or other until the ordeal was over. Honestly he did most of the talking, but she was very attentive, and he appreciated that.

Weeks passed and turned to months, and after he had been in the hospital for almost four months the doctor declared him sufficiently healed to begin therapy. That was a special kind of hell for Rochas, learning to walk again and being dependent on a cane to prop him up. He was absolutely determined to get over it and he made rapid progress as he pushed himself as far as the Medicae would allow. The medications and supplements the doc had him on probably helped as well. More importantly to him this also meant he was allowed to see to his own hygiene again, which was a relief.



But as the first week after he was declared fit to handle his own washing passed and Friday rolled around he found he missed it. Not the bring naked in front of her part. Oh God Emperor no. He had been half terrified every time they retired to the washroom that her curiosity would rear it's head once more and she'd grab at his dick again. Emperor be praised his fears had never been realized. And now they would never be, but despite the relief he felt he found he did miss their time together.

Yes that was it. It was the time together he missed. Sure he still saw her on a regular basis, she helped with his therapy after all, but his PT sessions weren't really private and they didn't have the opportunity to talk. He'd liked talking to her, even if in many cases it had been more like talking at her. Rochas frowned at that thought. He found that he regretted that. Regretted having done most of the talking.

"I'll have to fix that" Rochas thought to himself. "If I get the chance again I should ask her more about herself. It's only polite after all, but how to find time where we can talk? Can't do it here..."

He racked his brains for a moment before coming to a solution. "I'll ask when her duty shift ends and then invite her to join me on my walks around the compound" he decided. That would be a good opportunity to talk, and he could just claim he wanted a medic on hand in case he fell if anyone got curious. Rochas smiled, pleased he'd found a solution to his problem.

However the next day before he could make good on his decision he was accosted by Gelen, who came to visit him unannounced and suddenly popped up behind him. He appeared as Rochas was shuffling his way back to his bed after lunch and roughly threw an arm across the Sergeant's shoulders.

"Hey sarge" he said enthusiastically. "I'm putting together a card game tonight. You want in? "

"I'm glad to see you too Gelen" Rochase replied wryly. "I've been doing well thanks, how about you? "



"Yeah yeah, good to see you. Glad to see you're on your feet again, and I'm fine thanks." The man said quickly. "There, now that the niceties are out of the way, about that card game."

"In case you haven't noticed Koenraad I'm in the hospital. I doubt they'll let me out for a game of cards" Rochas bantered back.

"Ah come on sarge" Gelen said. "It's not like you're bedridden any more. I'm sure you could get out for a night."

"Somehow I doubt that." Rochas replied and Gelen's face fell ever so slightly, his grin shrinking as the corners of his mouth pulled back down, and Rochas felt like a bit of a heel. Koenraad was just trying to be nice and include him after all. Even if it was pretty unlikely that the medical officers in charge of his treatment would allow it that didn't mean he needed to shoot the man down like that. "But that doesn't mean I can't ask." He said quickly, and was pleased to note Gelen light up a bit.

"Great" the man responded, and then he released Rochas and stood their expectantly.

Well now he needed to ask someone. An orderly wouldn't do, and he didn't see any of the doctors. The sergeant slid himself into his bed and then said to Gelen "Go and find the Medicae for me. He should be around here somewhere. Tell him I need to speak with him if he's not too busy."


"Sure thing sarge" Gelen said, and then he quickly walked away, moving just barely shy of jogging. Once he was gone Rochas lay back on his cot to wait. He shot a glance over to Baiman's bed, but the one armed man wasn't there. Must have still been out eating or something. He'd have to try and get him included as well.

It took longer than he had expected it would for Gelen to return with the Medicae. Fortunately this meant that when he saw Gelen and the Medicae approaching he knew what he was going to say.

"Sir, Trooper Gelen says that you require me" the Krieger said as she stood by the side of his bed. "What is the nature of the problem?"

"It is an issue of moral" Rochas replied. He felt pretty bad about manipulating her like this, but he told himself it wasn't really a lie. Technically this was an issue of moral, his and Gelen's moral to be precise. "My presence is required at an activity necessary for the maintenance of moral. But, it takes place late in the evening, and continues well beyond the point in time I would normally be required to return here for the night. I need to be released temporarily to attend."

"Understood" She said. "Please produce the written copy of the order mandating the event and your presence there so that I may present it to the chief medical officer and have you released."

"Oh. Oh crap" Rochas thought to himself. There was of course no such order, and this presented a problem. He had a choice to make. He could either come clean, or he could press forward with some grade A groxshite. A half formed lie was on his lips, but then he sighed and let it go.

Looking at her, standing there by the side of his cot all attentive and trusting, he just couldn't do it. He didn't want to lie to her. He valued their odd relationship - friendship?- too much for that, and somehow he just knew that if he lied to her and she found out there would be a Deamon's price to pay.

Rochas sighed again and then looked around and motioned the Medicae to come closer. When she leaned in he mirrored the gesture so that their heads were nearly touching, and then he spoke quietly in a low voice he knew wouldn't carry very far.

"I cannot produce such an order." The sergeant said softly to the masked woman. " It's an issue of my own moral, and of Gelen's and probably Eikenborn's as well. This isn't something a superior officer ordered, just something we planned in order to lift our own spirits."

There, the mutant was loose in the hive now, and all he could do is wait to see how she reacted. Rochas wished he could see her face. The lack of visual cue's meant he had no idea at all what she was thinking.

"Understood sir" She said after a moment. "That will make securing your temporary release from this facility more difficult, but if you believe it to be necessary I can attempt to do so."

"If you could I would be grateful" Rochas replied, somewhat stunned by her willingness to go along with his request. "But only if it doesn't inconvenience you."

The Krieger nodded her masked head, and then silently left. When she was gone Rochas looked over to where Gelen was standing watching him with a bemused expression on his face.

"So what was that all about?" Koenraad asked.



"Seeing about getting released so I could come to the card game of course." Rochas replied. "What are you deaf?"

"No, I heard that bit." Gelen snorted. "But what was up with all the hush hush there at the end?"

"I told you." The sergeant said. "Seeing about getting out of here for that game."

"Alright alright say no more." Koenraad huffed while holding up both his hands in front of him. "I won't pry into whatever business you have with the Krieger."

Rochas remained silent, knowing that any denial on his part would just feed whatever inane fantasy the other man was entertaining about secretive dealings between him and the Medicae. He knew that if he kept quiet Koenraad would forget about it and move on, and that's what he wanted. After all if the man started poking around looking for secrets that didn't exist, he might find the one that actually did.

"So what's the word" Gelen said after a moment when he realized that Rochas wasn't going to say anything. " Are you gonna be able to come?"

"Don't know yet." Rochas replied. "We'll find out when he gets back."

"Huh." He said. "Figured he'd be able to authorize it himself."

"Apparently not." The sergeant sighed. He'd rather hoped the Medicae would be able to authorize it actually. That would have simplified things.

There was silence for a minute or two, and then Gelen asked "So how's physical therapy going?"

Rochas sighed again. "The docs say it's going well." He replied. "The leg responded well to treatment and I'm improving rapidly. I'm lucky. It isn't gonna be debilitating, and I'll be able to serve, but it's still damn frustrating to hobble along clutching at guide rails or propping myself up with a cane."

Koenraad snorted "You got no right to complain. When they airlifted you out of there I thought you were dead. The Emperor protected your ass, so be grateful."



"Wow Gelen" Rochas laughed. "That's some bedside manner you have there."

"Well it's not like it's not true." Koenraad retorted. "It was a miracle far as I'm concerned."

"I suppose you have a point." Rochas said, and he knew that the other man did. He'd considered how bad it could have been. At one point during one of his physical therapy sessions he'd asked the Medicae about it, and she had explained everything that could have gone wrong. A little further over and the slug would have shattered his femur, and probably severed his femoral artery. If it was only the former then he would have needed a replacement leg if he was to have any hope of ever walking again, let alone soldiering. And in the case of the later the wound would probably have bled him dry on the forest floor regardless of the Medicae's best efforts.

Before they could continue the conversation any further they were interrupted by the silent arrival of the Krieger. She didn't call out a greeting or announce herself before she arrived, she just quietly walked up and came to attention next to his bed. He hadn't even noticed her approach honestly. She had just suddenly appeared in his peripheral vision.


Once they had turned and faced her she spoke up. "Sir, I have spoken with the chief medical officer about your request." She reported to Rochas.

"Alright, well what did he have to say?" He asked.

"The chief medical officer is willing to release you from this facility so that you may participate in the moral building activity if you are escorted by a member of the medical staff." Came back her dull monotone from behind the gas mask in response. "If you do not object I would be willing to volunteer to serve as your escort Sir."

"Would that be alright?" the sergeant asked, wary of selfishly causing the Medicae inconvenience." If its a problem for you you don't have to."

"It will not prevent me from completing my regular duties. I am willing to do this for you Rochas." She replied.



The sergeant smiled. "Thank you Medicae, I appreciate it." He told the Krieger.

"Your appreciation is noted." She said. "What is the planned time interval for this moral building activity?"

Gelen and Rochas turned and looked at each other briefly, before turning back to the Medicae. "Well, there isn't exactly a scheduled time frame." Responded Gelen. "It's more of a play it by ear kind of thing rather than something set in stone."

"That is unacceptable" The Krieger replied almost immediately after the words were out of the man's mouth. "If there is not a defined time frame I will be unable to adjust my schedule to accommodate. How is it possible to schedule an event without a defined starting and ending time?"

"Well," Rochas said slowly. "Typically you just set aside the entire evening."

"That is not an effective use of time and seems likely to lead to idleness. Idleness is only a step removed from heresy." Came the flat response from behind the Krieger's Gas mask.

Koenraad shot the sergeant a look out of the corner of his eye, silently communicating that he was out of his depth and imploring Rochas to deal with this somehow. Steeling himself Rochas gathered his thoughts for a moment, planning his next move.

"If we had told you initially that the event was scheduled to take the entire evening, rather than informing you that there was no exact time frame for the event and that it was possible it might take the entire evening, would you have objected?" He asked.

"I would have inquired why the activity needed to be allotted such a large amount of time." The Medicae said.



"But if that had been the allotted time, would you have been able to accommodate it?" Rochas asked.

"An evening is not a precise measurement of time." The Krieger replied. If he hadn't known better he would have sworn she was being petulant.

"Alright, say it was four hours then. If it had been four hours would that have been possible?" The sergeant inquired.

"It would have been possible." Came her clipped response.

"Well then in that case." Rochas began before turning to the other man. "Gelen, when do we start? Surely there is a starting time at least?"

"We start at twenty hundred hours." The trooper replied.

"Alright," Said Rochas before turning back to face the Medicae again. "In that case, we will leave no later than twenty-three hundred hours. That is a period of three hours allotted to the Moral building activity. Is that acceptable?"

"That is acceptable." The Medicae replied after a short pause. "I must make preparations."She said, and then immediately spun on her heel and left.

The two men watched her leave, and then Gelen said to Rochas out of the corner of his mouth "You know he's gonna be pissed when he sees all we're doing is playing cards. As I recall he didn't care much for it."

"You let me worry about that," Rochas replied. "I'll figure something out."

"Well good luck then. You're going to need it." Said Koenraad, and then he turned and began to leave. He took two steps before calling over his shoulder with a lazy wave goodbye. "See you tonight sarge."



Rochas watched him go while he thought about what he had said. She would be angry when she found out. He sighed. That could lead to her causing a scene, and that would ruin the mood and defeat the purpose of going in the first place he thought to himself.

"I really didn't think this through." Rochas mused. He'd gotten so caught up in making it happen that he hadn't considered the consequences of his fast thinking, and now it was going to bite him in the ass. While it was true that the card game was a morale-building activity of a sort, and while he was sure that the Chief medical officer saw through his little euphemism and understood what it was he was really asking, he doubted that was what the Medicae had thought he meant. After all, that was why he had phrased it that way, to give her the wrong impression.

His conscious twinged and he sighed again. Even if he'd come clean in part he'd still deceived her with his wording. His stomach curdled. He'd lied to her. That hurt more than he thought it would have. After a moment more he decided it would be best to go and tell her now rather than letting it surprise her later. He could head off her reaction now rather than waiting until that evening and apologize for what he had done. It would be best to come clean and face the consequences here, rather than later in front of whoever Gelen had invited to the card game.

With a third and final sigh, he grabbed his cane and leveraged himself out of his bed. He needed to go find his Krieger.



Rochas hobbled away from his cot in search of the Medicae so that he could apologize and tell her the truth. Unfortunately, it wasn't easy to find her. The wing of the field hospital where they housed the patients was pretty big. It took him a while to check it all, and after circling the floor looking for her he still hadn't found her. Having determined that she wasn't with a patient at the moment Rochas decided to try and look for her deeper in the building. There was a set of doors he'd seen her and other medical staff disappear through, so he'd start there. By the time he had doubled back he was starting to get a little tired. He stopped in front of the doors for a moment for a breather before reaching out to push them open.

As his palm settled on the door a voice called out from behind him "You can't go in there."

The sergeant turned. It was one of the orderlies. He was young and blonde, and still in that awkward gangly stage of adolescence. Must have been one of the officers brats. "You're not authorized to go back there." The boy said. "That's the labs, the surgeries, and the dispensary. You don't have any reason to go back there."

"I'm looking for someone," Rochas replied. "One of the staff, a Krieger Medicae. It's important that I find them quickly. They aren't out on the floor, so I figured I might find them back here."

"I'm sorry sir, but I still can't let you go back there," He said unapologetically as he tried to brush past Rochas and go through the doors. As he began to push them open the sergeant reached out and grabbed him by the bicep. The boy stopped and tilted his head back in order to look up at him.

"Find the Krieg Medicae for me, and inform him I will be waiting here and that I need to speak with him," Rochas ordered the boy. "Please." He added as an afterthought.

The boy blinked twice and then said quickly "Yes sir" before darting through the door as soon as Rochas released his grip on his arm.