Outlooks
by Imperaxum
First published
The Death Korps of Krieg are a legend in the Imperial Guard, mostly for their unfailing institutional death wish. The Planetary Defense Forces are equally infamous for their general uselessness. A member from each make an unlikely pair in Equestria.
On the battlefield, they're a stolid grey wave of humanity. They live with a disturbing lack of wanting to live, and are well known for pessimism, morbidity, and an institutional death wish - if you can even get them to talk, that is.
On the battlefield, they're a loose conglomeration of whatever the Planetary Governors can scrape up. In theory, they defend their planets from external and internal threats, forming the first line of defense for the Imperium of Man. In practice, the only tactical consideration they are in the minds of battlefield commanders is a force to slow down threats with sheer numbers until the Imperial Guard arrives to start the battle.
The Death Korps of Krieg and the Planetary Defense Forces are wildly incompatible, and so are their members. However, when misguided aim lands one human from each in the far north of Equestria, teamwork is the only hope for success.
For Rhia, it's difficult trying to preserve one's life when one's survival partner considers you useless, along with not caring about trying especially hard to survive.
For 57-893, it's annoying when your only company is obsessed with the ridiculous notion of not wanting to 'die for the Emperor'.
A change of outlooks is in order.
And what of the natives?
Prologue.
A wave rolled over a distant battlefield. It moved relentlessly forward, unmindful of weather or less natural obstacles. Closer inspection led to the discovery that the wave was in fact composed of smaller bits, bits that once may have once held hopes, dreams, emotions. For the present, all one could see from the long lines of Guardsmen were a glistening row of bayonets.
The most infamous of the innumerable regiments of the Imperial Guard, marched solemnly across the remains of a lovely park. The dark ranks of gas-masked men were nothing but a silent crashing wave of humanity - if human was even an appropriate word to describe them. They did not fear death - they welcomed it, if that was even possible.
If one wasn’t distracted long enough by the crash of artillery, they might notice streaks of light in the air. Simultaneously, the grey wave began to shed from itself, bits and pieces, some bright red. For all intents and purposes, however, the heretical and fanatical forces opposing it may as well have been hurling pebbles instead of firing lasguns at the oncoming force for all the good it was doing them. These weren't ordinary humans, as the enemy were discovering to their consternation.
They were the Death Korps of Krieg.
~
One Kriegsman in particular held the far right flank of the formation. On first glance, he looked no different from the thousands of other lasgun-wielding men who marched with him. One thing marked him distinctly from every other man in a ten-meter radius - he was alive from one split second to the next, as an explosion went off perfectly inside the Death Korps ranks.
Aforementioned Kriegsman was shielded from the explosion not by the bodies of his comrades - a crew-served Heavy Bolter support weapon resisted the deadly shrapnel far better than the flesh and blood of mere men. Instead, he was thrown back completely off his feet, and into a nearby shell hole. His world promptly faded into black.
~
Behind the Krieg came a sizable force of Planetary Defense Forces. If they had bothered to ponder such things, the Krieg would have been dismayed at the decidedly nonmilitant bearing of the local PDF. They were a motley bunch, to be sure, but they were all that the local Planetary Governor had at his disposal besides the recently arrived Krieg regiments, and the massive, inexplicable upheaval had to be contained. Legitimized gang members, conscripted factory workers, and Emperor knows what else, armed with a baffling array of weapons.
Few were expected to survive, and they advanced with fitting enthusiasm to their role. The crack of laspistol shots behind them from their officers kept them going hard, over the multitude of grey corpses left in the wake of the Krieg.
One hulking figure stood out among the right flank of the attack. He was in fact a Krieg Quartermaster, and the PDF looked on in awe and horror as he went to each of his fallen comrades, collecting weapons and finishing off those not quite dead. Many recalled the lessons they had received before the battle on the customs of their allies, that those who couldn't get back up (or crawl) and keep moving had paid their debt to the Emperor of Mankind in full.
They no longer needed to live.
One particular shell hole now held the unconscious Krieg and a recently-arrived PDF memeber, who crouched low in an attempt to avoid injury. As the novice looked on, the Quartermaster jumped into the hole, and looked the Krieg over. He proceeded to pull a laspistol from his belt, and lifted it to the groaning man's forehead.
"Hold on."
The Quartermaster grunted in annoyance, and turned to the PDF member who had interrupted the last rites of the dying Korpsman.
"He's just knocked out, I think."
The Korpsman stirred more forcefully, then shook his clear and stared up and the barrel of his comrade's leveled laspistol. He nodded, and reached for his lasgun . . .
. . . only to find it gone.
The Quartermaster reached into his pack and pulled out a replacement, no doubt pulled from the body of another Korpsman, and gave it to the Krieg before moving off to another dying man.
"You could say thanks." the PDF member said expectantly.
Ignoring her, the Guardsman got up, and at once rose out of the cover of the shell hole, starting for the line of Krieg in front of him. He never got there.
~
The Psyker looked over the battlefield, trying to find a proper test target. The first time she'd tried to teleport a dangerous cultist away had failed miserably, and had knocked her unconscious for her troubles. Now she thought she understood. If she wanted to cast something to another dimension, she had to try it in sync with someone similarly teleporting in that other dimension. Something like that, at least. This was technically illegal, sure, but an Imperial Inquisitor stood next to her, closely watching the sanctioned "experiment" in progress.
There. She felt it. From across reality itself came the sense of connection as she imagined warping the fanatics into another dimension, something else was warping as well.
~
Somewhere else, a oddly colored quadruped was seemingly annoyed at a green biped. "You left it." it flatly stated.
The biped looked around nervously, trying to find a way out. Finding none, a Psyker would have ascertained it decided a half-truth was the best bet.
"Uh, no?" it said rather sheepishly.
"Spike!" the quadruped groaned. "No matter." it muttered a second later, and an appendage on it's forhead glowed brightly, before the glow spread to the rest of it's body, and it promptly disappeared.
~
The Inquisitor unconsciously took a step back as the Psyker opened her eyes with a start, and raised her hand.From behind her eyes shown an incredibly bright light, and her gaze fixed upon the heretical lines.
Fate would not grant total success, however, and a cultist artillery round exploded nearby, sending a hail of dirt and debris on their position, as well as causing all present to flinch. For the majority, it was merely an automatic response to the shock wave of the explosion, something to cause the readjustment of a weapon's aim. Not even quickly forgotten, but never remembered to begin with.
Not so with the Psyker. As luck would have it, that exact moment was the one in which she released her power at a concentrated spot on the battlefield. That spot, thanks to the flinch, wasn't a heretical Heavy Bolter crew. It was instead directed at a somewhat shell hole.
The Pysker cursed as she saw the apparent failure of her attack. Her mental tirade was interrupted by the hand of the Inquisitor, however.
She turned to see him with an uncharacteristic grin on her face. "Success." he said.
"I beg you're pardon?" she asked.
"There was a Kriegsman and PDF in the shell hole." he responded simply, shifting his gaze to the battlefield.
She was starting to catch on. "And . . ?"
"They were expendable."
~
One moment in a war-torn hive, the next nowhere. A disorienting experience, to say the least. Even the stoic and fanatic Kriegsman's mind was swimming before long. A plethora of colors, shapes, concepts, and countless others flashed before him. Even the God-Emperor would have had no idea what he was seeing, a small voice in the back of his mind told him, quickly crushed.
One thing was certain, and that whatever this was, was coming to an end. They were shapeless blobs at first, but recognizably green at that. His attention turned to the one thing that he could make sense of in the void, and gradually the lines grew distinct and the shapes turned into objects. More normal colors filtered in, and the senseless ones began to appear.
Without warning, the ground rushed up to meet him, reality fully restored, no doubt. He thought he could see one personally uncommon sight before he fell the to ground. Trees.
He blacked out.
Or so it would seem. A normal human would have certainly been knocked unconscious by the shock of temporary non-existence and hitting solid ground at a considerable rate of speed, but one must remember this was not a human in the conventional sense. This was a member of the Death Korps of Krieg.
He slowly got to his feet, lasgun up, attention fixed on the inert body next to him.
.
Author's Notes:
Yeah. Warhammer 40k. Why, who knows, but it exists. In HiE fics, few use Imperial Guardsmen. Fewer still use the Death Korps of Krieg. And I haven't found one that uses those poor ignored chaps in the Planetary Defense Forces.
Time for a change.
North
The Kriegsman stood over the inert form of the other human, waiting for them to get up and possibly explain the sudden change of scenery. Lasgun was up, eyes searching the surrounding terrain from behind his mask for possible threats to be dealt with.
The human stirred, holding a hand to her head and slowly, painfully sitting up. Her eyes opened, blinking several times at the brightness of the scene, before settling on an anomalous figure standing before her.
"Shit!" she muttered unashamedly, and started scrambling back on all fours. "I'm fine! I swear, there's nothing wrong with me! I - I can fight, I can get up - just, just -" she stuttered, bumping into a tree and rising to her feet as promised. Krieg Quartermasters were known to take the weapons of/finish off allies, not just fellow Krieg Guardsmen.
The Kriegsman stayed put, presumably watching the panicking human without turning his head. She continued, oblivious to his non-action. "All I have is an autogun! You guys don't even use autoguns!"
"Name." a deep, rough voice spoke, silencing the woman.
"Uh, Rhia." she replied to the voice, before realizing the disembodied voice wasn't actually asking for her name.
"Planetary Defense Force of Tarsae." she said, shoulders sagging a bit.
At that, the Kriegsman grunted and turned, walking away. Rhia took a moment to glance around, and at the forest around her, and her jaw dropped.
"By the Throne!' she gushed to the other human, sprinting up to him. "Look at this!"
The masked face swivelled, but the Kriegsman didn't stop.
A stupid grin plastered over Rhia's face, she paid no heed to him. "Trees! Green! Oh, sweet Emperor, I can't believe something like this even exists!'
The Kriegsman grunted again and faced forward, continuing on his way.
"Look, look. This is amazing. I've never seen life like this, like, ever. I mean, a few picts of Garden Worlds and an old propaganda poster had nice forests in them, b-but." Rhia said estatically.
"I guess you don't really care, do you?" she muttured after a few moments of silence. Huffing, her grin returned a second later "I have no idea where we are, but if some horrible xeno comes along and kills me, I'll die happy."
~
Apparent mid-afternoon left the pair slogging through knee-high snow, having left the comfort of their original location in the forest behind. Stopping occasionally to check they were still heading south, the Kriegsman otherwise shouldered his lasgun and marched with stolid determination.
Rhia, on the other hand, was jumping from footstep to footstep that her companion left in the knee-deep snow. If you could call this guy a ‘companion’’, of course.
He wasn’t technically being unfriendly . . . he just really wasn’t talking. At all. Not since the bad impression they had made on each other when they had first realized their predicament had he spoken. In fact, she was just following him at the moment. There had been no discussion of their situation or destination, just checking his compass and moving out after her short rave.
“Hey.” she said for the thousandth time, stomping impatiently beside him.
“...”
“Where are we going?”
“...”
“What’s your name?”
“...”
“Do you know how we got here?”
Rhia stopped, sighed, and fell back behind him. It really was beautiful up here. And contradictory. They were struggling through - what was it, snow? - yet intense sunlight bore unceasingly down on them, and she was tempted to take off her flak armor. The land rose and fell beneath them, and every time they reached the peak of these relatively small hills, she was treated to the sight of lush fields and meadows, as far as she could see.
Truly, the Emperor had blessed her. She didn't know how she'd gotten here, and she'd honestly put very little thought into it, but who was she to care? She meant what she said - she knew she was above hundreds of trillions of Imperium citizens to be in such a lush, virgin environment.
Aha. She knew what would get her companion to talk.
“Who do you serve?” she said finally, smiling a little at her cleverness.
There was a slight pause, before the Kriegsman finally spoke in his raspy voice. “The Emperor.”
“Mhm, and why do you serve him?” Rhia pressed.
“Look to yourself, PDF. You are unworthy of asking an Imperial Guardsman of Krieg that question.” he replied.
Surprised at the length and complexity of his response, but nevertheless undaunted, Rhia tried her luck again with the now-speaking Kriegsman.
“And what am I lacking? I have an autogun, a helmet, armor, this badge, I me-”
“You are lacking the will to die.” he said abruptly, and strode away, slightly faster than before, she imagined.
Rhia shook her head, and tried to think of less depressing life goals. Not exactly the response she’d been seeking, but having another human voice was reassuring, at least.
She checked her equipment for the umpteenth time in this world, her auto-gun, flak vest with assorted pockets, and personal pouch hooked to her belt. Weapon, cardboard armor, enough rations for a week, and her literal life’s possessions. Could’ve been a lot worse. Did she . . . ?
A huge case of vials and rolled up paper tubes still took up half the space in her personal pouch. She smiled at the sight, but inwardly sighed a little at her vice.
“So, where are we headed?” she asked, bored again.
“...”
~
Hours of silence later, the sky was splashed by brilliant hues of orange and gold, even as the sun began to sink under the hills to their right. Unfortunately, the beautiful colors didn’t mask the fact that the temperature was dropping quite drastically.
“Can we at least stop and, y’know, make a fire or something?” Rhia asked in exasperation, rubbing her arms desperately in an attempt to stop them from freezing.
The Kriegsman finally seemed to notice her, and hesitantly stopped trudging forward, turning to face her.
"Why?" he asked, and she swore he sounded genuinely curious, if that was possible.
"Because I might freeze to death, that's why!" she gasped, a powerful gust of chilling mountain wind blowing over them.
She could swear his actual face was looking back and forth, from the trail to her, though his mask didn't move an iota.
"N-not everyone has a trench coat." she pleaded, realizing she was much colder than she had thought.
Another miserably powerful wind came, and she fell to the snow on both knees. Her hive-world body had never experienced such cold, and her thoughts settled on how morbidly ironic her deciding her death would be a happy one were. The feeling in her limbs drained away.
Faintly, she felt herself being lifted out of the snow, and her body shuddered at the sudden warmth that enveloped her.
She was being sheltered in the Kriegsman's trench coat.
The wind howled now.
Author's Notes:
Rejoice, rejoice. It only took 30 weeks, but this story lives again!
Flickering
Rhia slowly came to, reflexively stretching out her thawed limbs. She was still so cold though!
Oh, yeah. She nearly froze to death, didn't she?
The storm was still howling outside.
And the Kriegsman . . .
She stopped moving and slowly opened her eyes, resisting the urge to blink at the flickering light directly in front of her. Looking on silently, she watched the Guardsman of the Death Korps of Krieg curse as the pitiful little fire winked out, clearly not the first time this had happened.
They cursed?
More importantly, he hadn't noticed her wake up yet. She shut her eyes quickly as he turned to face her, and when the temptation grew too great, she cracked them back open. The soulless black lens that covered his eyes looked a little less intimidating when scratched and cracked as they were; in fact, now that she really looked, his entire uniform was alternatively torn and frozen.
After a few seconds of the stare-down, with only one side knowing of it, the Kriegsman stiffly made his way over the wall of the cave and leaned against it, sliding down to a sitting position. Slowly, he slung the lasgun off his back and rested in crookedly in his arms. To her great surprise, he reached up and unfastened the clasps on his gas mask, before taking it off awkwardly. Next, off came his helmet. She imagined he didn't have much practice with doing that.
His face was hard, almost chiseled out of rock. Yet, getting past the iron features every Kriegsman probably had, he looked pretty young. Ooh, she wanted a conversation with a face right about now.
Also, any vestige of warmth in her legs had faded with that fire. Moving was also a good idea in general.
She yawned dramatically and stretched her arms, and while out of the corner of her eye she saw the Kriegsman swivel at her with his lasgun up in alarm, all she had was a broad grin.
"Good morning!" she said cheerily. To her relief (and mild surprise), he lowered his gun, albeit suspiciously.
Making her way over to him while trying to act like she wasn't half frozen, she plopped down next to him. His fingers twitched for the helmet and mask next to him.
She shook her head. "Nah, I like talking to a face." She got a distrusting stare for her troubles. "So, nice human emotions."
". . . yes?" he replied hesitantly, his voice less rough with the mask off.
She sighed. "You're not the best at conversations, are you?"
He thought over the words. "I atone for my ancestors." he stated flatly.
With a roll of her eyes, Rhia stood up and offered him a hand. "Well, let's get this fire started, then!" He took it, and she was nearly thrown off her feet as three hundred pounds of human and equipment used her arm as a ladder.
"I know what you're thinking." Rhia, after regaining her balance, continued. She spared a glance at the remains of the Kriegsman's failed attempts at fire-making - in many cases, the branches were charred on one end yet still frozen on the other.
"I do?" the Kriegsman asked.
She ignored him for the time being. Bending down over the pile, she unslung the her pack and pulled out her survival kit. Opening it with trembling hands, she grabbed the small package of matches inside.
The Kriegsman, while still keeping an eye on the entrance, squatted down beside her. "I've already tried that," he said, pointing at his discarded match container, "fifteen times."
"So you know numbers . . ." Rhia muttered. To the Kriegsman: "That was fourteen times too many."
She dumped the entire container's worth of matches save one onto the wood, and swiftly scraped that last one a few times on the side of the container. It lit up into a pitiful little fire; when she tossed it onto the pile of matches, that little fire burst into a pillar of flame.
Reaching into her pack again, she brought out a small syringe. Before the Kriegsman could get a good look at what exactly it was, she hurriedly dumped its contents onto the fire, and the flames practically exploded, turning a sickly green as they roared with renewed vigor.
"Hive city trick," she explained, "and, admittedly, not the best one."
They lapsed into silence, watching the frozen wood gradually succumb to the blazing chemical fire. Rhia stretched out her hands, and winced as it felt like a thousand needles stabbed her fingers. Once she'd made certain they hadn't frozen too badly, she drew her legs up to her chest and clasped her arms around them. The Kriegsman remained sitting stiffly, completely still, glancing at the entrance of the cave every few seconds.
"So," Rhia finally broke the silence, "what're we gonna do?"
"Not freeze." the Kriegsman replied with deadly seriousness.
Rhia grinned a little at that, albeit grimly. "How about that, humor."
He gave her a quizzical stare. "Never mind," she said hastily, waving her hand, "I mean, after that. The temperature's not so bad after the sun rises."
The Kriegsman grimaced. "We keep moving, and contact the Imperium of Man."
"What if this isn't an Imperium world? Emperor knows, I can't think of any that're this beautiful," Rhia observed, "and think about it - not one machine in the sky? What kind of Imperium world is this?"
"Could be a feral world." the Kriegsman guessed, drawing on his limited knowledge of the Imperium's planets.
"Probably not. This place is absolutely pristine." Rhia snorted. "A place like this would be colonized the second the Administratum got around to it."
"You know much about planets you don't live on." the Kriegsman pointed out.
Rhia shrugged sheepishly. "Hey, just 'cause I'm a hiver doesn't mean I want to live and die in the same stinking factory without knowing what happens beyond me." Her face fell. "I'm nothing."
"You have your life to give." the Kriegsman said, presumably as encouragement.
Rhia only groaned. "Yeah, don't remind me." Suddenly, she perked up and snapped her fingers. "Wait, I know! We're on a feudal world!
The Kriegsman thought for a moment. "What's that?"
"Uh, kinda like a normal Imperium world 'cept they have really primitive tech. I mean, they aren't very interesting, that's why I don't remember much about them, but then again," she raised her arm in the direction of the cave entrance, "once you get past the beauty of this place, it isn't very interesting either."
The Kriegsman nodded.
"Yeah," Rhia continued, nodding herself at her own logic, "yeah. Tau worlds would have stuff flying around, Chaos worlds would be pretty hard to miss, Ork worlds - well, I don't wanna think about those . . ."
She nodded decisively. "Yeah. Whatever Emperor-damned flash of light sent us here, 'here' is just about the best place I could imagine,"
The Kriegsman eyed her suspiciously. "You seem uninterested in the specifics of you getting here."
"I - well," Rhia began, paused thoughtfully, then continued in a lowered tone of voice, "to be honest, why should I care?"
Seeing the Kriegsman's disbelieving look, she elaborated; "I mean, I got thrown into the PDF and sent into Hive Tzaek with barely any training, and I'm pretty sure only as cannon fodder. It was pure luck I managed to survive long enough to get to that shell crater. Now, here, it's gorgeous and nothing's tried to kill me yet. I'm free!"
She stopped when she noticed the piercing of the stare of her companion. "You wish to escape death for the Emperor?" he asked dangerously.
She gulped. "This is something new," she said softly, "I didn't have a choice, but it sure beats my life in the hive. Like I said before, I'd die happy right now."
"Well," she added laconically a second later, "maybe death could wait until the morning."
"I see. We continue on foot tomorrow." the Kriegsman said with finality. "I'll take first watch."
"Right . . ." Rhia nodded, glad he'd seemingly dropped the matter, for now at least. "Damn, it's still cold."
As the Kriegsman swiveled in place to face the entrance, he felt a meager pressure on his side. Glancing down briefly, he saw Rhia had curled up beside him with her eyes closed. "Much better," she yawned, adding, "I don't think you waking me by moving'll be much of an issue."
He frowned at her, before shrugging and turning back to the entrance. Reaching over to his left, he grabbed Rhia's autogun off the stone floor and placed it beside her.
Finally, he cast a glance in the direction of his helmet and gas mask. He started to get up to get the equipment - then, remembering the sleepy woman beside him, sighed and remained in place.
It was going to be a long night.
Author's Notes:
I prefer the interpretation of Kriegsman that they're merely cold and stoic, not practically brain-dead. Once you engage them in conversation, they prove capable of carrying on one like any normal human. It's just the opportunities for that don't come along often . .
So! It only six weeks! Well, t-that's better than thirty, r-right?
Right?
I'll just stab myself with a pitchfork under the light of a torch, and save y'all some trouble, then.
Anyway, now that it's Finals, pretty soon I'll be pumping these things out like it's nothing. Truth be told, I started this shtick with no idea of how it'd end, but now I think I have a half-way decent finale, so there's that. Stay tuned, and fear not, loyal readers!
Plus, I was working on Distant Shores. Those 10,000 words may have been better spent here . . .
Alone?
The next morning, Rhia woke to find the Kriegsman standing by the entrance of the cave, facing the outside world. Yawning, she fumbled around for her pack and grabbed her autogun, rising to her feet. She felt good, far better than the past month, at least. The threat of invasion and being inducted into the PDF had been stressful beyond belief - but also oddly exciting, certainly the most notable thing to happen in her life of factory work.
Briefly, she wondered if that thought had been heretical.
"When'd you wake up?" she asked, ambling over to the Kriegsman.
He didn't turn, but responded gruffly, "After you fell asleep with finishing your watch, waited until o-four-hundred to get up."
"Wait, you didn't sleep at all?"
"No, I can miss one night. Your dedication at the watch is inadaquate, although you managed to stay awake."
"Damn that helmet . . ." Rhia trailed off, staring out the cave, eyes widening. "Emperor above."
The star of the planet stained the sky with hues of pink and gold, rising noticabley.
"By the Throne, I don't think that'll ever get old." Rhia breathed. The Kriegsman remained silent, though his helmet faced the direction of the rising sun.
After a minute, the Krigesman shook his head faintly, and turned back for the cave. "We'll carry torches to save the fire, but we should be heading for lower elevations." he said.
"Right, there's no matches left." Rhia nodded in agreement, then froze. "Wait. That was, well, clever." Joy lit up her face. "Hey, that means you want us to live after all!" she whooped.
The Kriegsman silent, bending over the fire and wrapping up a makeshift torch in rags from his pack. Rhia sighed, and went over to help.
~
Midday found the pair silently trudging through melting snow, always downwards. The air was thicker here, envigorating.
"I guess we didn't realize the air was so thin 'cause it was so clean." Rhia said, familiar wonder in her voice. "Wow. I never knew air could be like this!"
"This?" the Kriegsman said.
Rhia blinked. "Y-yes. This. You know, factories and all. Hive cities. It's like breathing in a really foul soup." She smirked grimly. "Eh, that was once good thing about the 12-hour shifts in the factories. I always volunteered to maintain the lower levels, usually got a gas mask with the extra crown or two. Cleanest air I could get back in the hive."
"Usually?"
Rhia frowned. "Uh, yeah. Sometimes they couldn't replace worn-out masks for weeks, one of the managers probably filched the replacement shipment. Then it was use a useless mask or go in the lower levels without one at all. I never volunteered then, but the regulars of the shift would always get picked anyway when nobody else would step forward."
"The lower levels were contaminated?"
"Yeah. A lot of the fumes just cycled through the old blowers and ended up down there."
The Kriegsman shook his head. "Denying workers proper masks for some crowns? Discraceful. A cowardly waste."
"Right." Rhia said, and coughed violently. "Eugh, there I go. Finally. Cleanest air in the world won't help me now." She stopped and sank to her knees, coughing wretchedly, with mounting pain.
"Rhia?" the Kriegsman asked, voice flat as always. Rhia still jerked in surprise at her name.
"Oh, wow, It's nice to hear that na- Ech!" she heaved and coughed again, specks of phlegm scattering over the snow.
The Kriegsman put a steadying hand on her shoulder, and with the other unclapsed his helmet and took it off, squinting at the unfiltered glare. "Will the gas mask help?"
"N-no," Rhia gasped between coughs, "probably not. Thanks."
"Look." the Kriegsman snapped without warning. "Down at the treeline." he said, any hint, imagined or no, of warmth in his voice utterly gone.
"Huh?" Rhia joined him behind a rock, still coughing intermittedly.
The Kriegsman pointed, and when Rhia squinted she inhaled in surprise. A speck of green, dull green, was moving indeed near the treeline - but off the ground.
"What is it?" Rhia whispered, sudden adrenaline blotting out her health woes.
"Xeno. Flying xeno." the Kriegsman replied tersely. "No signs of mechanical propulsion, though we're very far off." The Kriegsman reached into his pack and pulled out a small writing pad and stick of charcoal. He began to write furiously.
Xeno. Light green. Flying, no technology visible. Lower elevation. Possibly psychic? Wings, small ones.
The creature disappeared, and the Kriegsman put away his tools, grabbing his lasgun off the ground. "We're not alone."
"Probably just, eh, wildlife." Rhia offered, autogun clutched a little closer.
"Wildlife can be very dangrous." the Kriegsman observed. "More dangerous than a 'thinking' Orc or Eldar, at times."
Rhia sighed. "I'd like to believe the best of the world."
"Then you are fortunate to be in my company. That belief will get you killed, PDF." the Kriegsman said, standing up and slinging his lasgun back over his shoulder.
Rhia stayed on the ground, and sighed again. "Oh, come on. You just said 'Rhia'."
"Rhia." the Kriegsman repeated after a moment's hesitation. "We must be careful as we descend."
She smiled brightly, and rose to join him. "Thanks."
"That coughing." the Kriegsman asked as they started back down the mountain, sun high in the crystal sky, "will you be adequate?"
"Yeah," Rhia said, "I think I'll make it. My lungs can't be that bad, can they?"
"They said Vraks couldn't have been that bad, some of the Cadians I've met." the Kriegsman replied, without missing a beat.
Rhia stopped, a look of disbelief on her face. "Wait, was that a joke?"
He hadn't waited. As she stared at the back of the receding Kriegsman, Rhia smiled, and rushed after him. Progress had been made,
A small vial had dropped out of Rhia's pack in the rush. She had many like it, but this was the first in its particular package, and was named. Obscura it read.
Author's Notes:
Wow, uh, that took a long time. Fear not friends, I'm about to make another empty promise on not procrastinating for the next chapter.
Oh, wait.
I'm sorry. Very sorry. I'm struggling along with this story, but it's a good way to break my writer's block on several unpublished ones I've been working on.
To be truthful I'm rather surprised by the relative popularity of Outlooks. Letting down even one reader is bad; 74? I'll trudge through this as best I can.
23 weeks. Feels bad, guys. Feels real bad.
But clicking that 'publish' button? Feels good, mates.
Range
"You ever meet other militia like me?" Rhia asked as the star of the world reached its peak and their shadows disappeared.
"PDF?" the Kriegsman intoned.
"Eh, not really. I'm milita, the Governor's Trade Guard are PDF, their kit costs a dozen workers. Say, you know what happened to Hive Doran?"
"I do not."
"Damn. It's the one with the huge arch, two peaks, Governor's palace is in the center."
"I see. If the arched hive is Hive Doran, then it was destroyed by an orbital bombardment during my regiment's descent."
"Oh, I didn't know that," Rhia shrugged. "Outlived the Governor, who woulda thought it?"
There was an uncomfortable silence, though Rhia hardly knew if the Kriegsman was disturbed by it under the mask. "The Emperor has blessed you abundantly," he finally said.
"I wouldn't say that," Rhia sighed, rubbing her arm. She grimaced when she saw the Kriegsman snap his head to stare at her, and she realized the blasphemy.
"I'm just a damned wretch," she added, and the Kriegsman seemed satisfied, returning to his routine of constantly swivelling his head to scan their surroundings. Rhia shuddered, wondering at how a faceless soldier could put a greater fear of the Emperor in her than the factory preachers ever did. One eyeless stare was worth more than an hour's breathless screaming and hymns could. Rhia hated the hymns, she was an awful singer.
They went on for another hour, working their way down ridges and gradually relaxing inclines, the temperature rising as their altitude decreased. They were silent, but Rhia did not feel so uneasy anymore - the Kriegsman was no longer some eldritch monster, and his warning about the danger of a xenos world had fallen on deaf ears. It was his own fault, really. The Kriegsman was so obviously good at his job, there was nothing that this primitive world could have that could possibly threaten Rhia while her companion was around. In that terrible battlefield that Rhia had been snatched from by the Emperor's grace, she had seen the men of Krieg roll over a defense line that her company had been pointlessly grinding against for a week.
The Emperor's grace. Rhia was not a particularly faithful person, but she was at a loss to describe what had transported her to this xenos world.
"You're right, you know," she said as the shadows began to stretch out across the melting snow. "I'm really blessed."
"Good to hear," the Kriegsman said flatly.
Rhia couldn't think of anything to add, and they continued on for a while.
"How has be blessed you?" a voice asked, Rhia twitching in surprise. Even she awkwardly raised her autogun, she knew it could only be the Kriegsman speaking - yet the idea of him talking with minimal provocation was totally foreign to her.
She looked at her companion - the Kriegsman was looking at her clutching at her autogun, his posture relatively relaxed. "You need to improve your reaction. Good to be suspicious, but the benefit is minimal with that sort of panic."
"Right. Thanks."
They continued on a bit, before Rhia remembered that her companion had asked a question. "Right, blessed. I'm very glad that the Emperor saw fit to send me here. That's all."
"Away from battle in His name?" the Kriegsman said instantly. Rhia winced, but there was no anger in the Kriegsman's voice. He almost sounded conversational.
"I don't know. Maybe." Rhia looked at ground, concentrated on the blades of green plants poking through the snow. "This place is so beautiful."
"It's xenos," the Kriegsman spat, then his voice relaxed. "Acknowledging your own cowardice is a good sign, however. Cowards die early in the Korps - it is the Krieg way - but it seems you will have a better chance of absolving yourself of it."
"Well, that's... good, I think."
"It is. Outside of Krieg, there are many cowards who act better than they are. Your Governor was a coward, and he cost the Imperium his planet."
Rhia glanced at him oddly. "How do you know this? You Krieg men never seemed to care much for our world, from what I saw," she shook her head. "I can't judge you all on what I saw. Can't see how the Governor pisses from the underhive, as they say."
A rasping sound came from under the Kriegsman's mask. "That sounds accurate. I know of your Governor because of the briefing the Colonel gave my regiment before it went down."
"Huh," Rhia said, but to her continued surprise, her companion continued to elaborate.
"You do not understand the... significance of that. Explaining the situation to your soldiers is not generally thought of as the Krieg way."
"So?"
"The Krieg way is to be sent anywhere and to absolve our sin in combat. Where or why is not relevant in the slightest. The Krieg way is everything. When I left Krieg, I was part of a replacement shipment to the 1372nd Siege Regiment. My first impression of the Colonel was of madness, but I think I've come to understand his reasons for his transgression - we are much more effective, I think. A cowardly Governor means a notably bad PDF. Another transgression. Relying on non-Krieg soldiers is dangerous, but our Colonel is..."
A minute passed. "You... 'replacement shipment'. That sounds like a box of tools, not a group of people," Rhia said.
"Your analysis is accurate. You don't seem to be understanding what I'm trying to explain." the Kriegsman intoned.
"Look - I'm a little taken aback, that's all. You are explaining something, about a culture and a way of life I don't know at all and all sorts of military things -"
"A colonel is the commander of the regiment. The Colonel was the commander of the 1372nd Siege," the Kriegsman clarified.
"Oh, I know what a Colonel is. I watched Against the Green Menace!, leader of the 'Lucky Sevens' was a Colonel on that pict-show. Say, you ever see an Ork?"
"I have killed one or two. What I am saying is that my Colonel was not a strictly conventional man of Krieg."
"A lot of words just to say that," Rhia observed, cracking a smile.
"That is your way, is it not?" the Kriegsman asked flatly, and Rhia laughed. "I'm being inefficient with my speech, but the 1372nd Siege is not inefficient."
"Boy, so, you guys ever get trouble? For not following the 'Krieg way'?" Rhia asked, still full of good humor. She liked to imagine that her companion was too, after a fashion.
"No. In the end, we did. We are an effective Regiment, and our Colonel's tactics ensure we have not been wiped out in the campaigns we have participated in. I was not there personally for most of them, but it is in service to the Emperor that we absolve our sins - and the 1372nd has greatly aided many of our needy allies in ways that other Colonels would not concern themselves with."
"So, you're sorta proud, right?" Rhia smiled.
"You would call it that. We are not cowards, and the Colonel is not - how did those Saggarts describe their ways - he is not thrifty with our lives. But he does not have us die for the sake of dying and little else. I think it is a good way."
"I hear a lot about your sins. And I watched you and your buddies run through that hell-field with no care. It's very interesting to hear you just talk, though. I won't press. I'm sure we have a lot of time." Rhia said quickly, still smiling, putting a skip into her step. It was reassuring to see your immediate future become a lot more social.
"Yes," the Kriegsman merely said.
After a little while, he spoke up again. "We should find another shelter. It is less cold down here, so the emphasis must be placed on defensibility."
"Sounds good," Rhia said, "I ought to bore you with stories about underhive air tunnels. Stuff like that."
"I will listen," the Kriegsman replied dutifully, and they kept walking into the fading light.
Author's Notes:
Oh, shit, it's been a really long time. Partly life, and partly working on a couple of other stories that captured my imagination more thoroughly than this one, including my other Warhammer 40k story that is much more heretical than this one. Well, I've gone and thought up a proper conflict and ending for this story, so expect updates to be drastically quicker. I've promised that before, but I've got the proper foundations for it now, I think.
Also, I'll spend some time editing previous chapters. My grip on the 40k universe, and specifically civilian life in the Imperium, has vastly improved - I'm cringing at Rhia casually mentioning Tau, Chaos, and Ork worlds and how they don't fit the sights of Equestria. Ordinary hive worker does not know that shit. Anyway, thanks for reading!