Faithfull and the Damned; Shades of Loyalty

[Tsavong Lah]

“So we are to be part of the Guard then?” asked Hilaire.

The officers of the newly upgraded 16th Corsican Grand Regiment were present in Besseau’s private tent, enjoying aged brandy and premium cigars as they discussed the recent news. Major Kleist was also present, having just arrived only an hour before which was also an hour after he received his orders.

“That’s the order,” said Besseau.

“We are being augmented with support units, as well as several companies under Major Kleist,” he continued, pointing at the young commander. “But considering the nature of our future service, and the lack of guaranteed reinforcements, I have decided on a major restructuring of our forces.”

There was grumbling all around the group.

“Hear me out and then you can complain,” said Besseau. “Because battle casualties cannot be replaced, we will have to organize our companies so that they can meet a minimum requirement for combat effectiveness, which means making them allot smaller.”

“But, our entire doctrine revolves around continuously shifting platoons within a company in order to keep battle fatigue to a minimum,” said Lazare.

“I understand that,” said Besseau. “But we must now focus on maximum concentration of firepower to quickly overwhelm our enemies in order to maintain combat stamina. Or at least, try it.”

“It’s the same tactic that the Voltigeurs have been using for centuries,” said Kleist. “That is how we are able to engage regiment sized forces with a fraction of the manpower.”

“But the Voltigeurs are the elite of the Corsican military,” said Hilaire. “So am I correct in assuming that we will somehow have to raise the caliber of an entire regiment to the level of Imperial Stormtroopers without considering that only a fraction of the personnel would ever pass the smallest portion of the selection requirements?”

“Yes.”

“Well ok then,” said Hilaire.

“Major Kleist will be in charge of the training program so you all will be taking your lead from him for the time being,” said Besseau. “We have our work cut out for us gentlemen. We will be reorganizing, training, and shuffling men around all at the same time for the next few months. And it’s not going to be easy.”

“Dismissed!”

[Antaeus]

Holy Terra

‘Are you sure you’re ready for this, Padryn?’

The tall soldier, clad in dark blue fatigues and black carapace body armour, nodded. ‘Aye, Colonel. Never been readier.’

‘Good.’

Colonel Ardallen Pembrius walked along the corridors of the cathedral-like building. The windows let in the golden light of Terra’s sun, gilding the slate grey frames and casting long shadows onto the walls. A dark green cloak wrapped around his shoulders, enveloping his broad shoulders and his short grey-white hair. On both men’s heads rested a blue beret emblazoned with a flaming sword symbol.

‘You will be accompanying Lord Imrador to Hagra III. There you will - once they arrive - assume command of Task Force Epsilon. Their current commander has been informed of the coming change in personnel.’

The taller, younger man’s footsteps were light, quiet, measured as he strode alongside his superior.

‘That’s Haeric Actaon’s unit. I wonder how he will take to a new superior.’

‘You’re a Jaeger, Padryn. Not like Malvolius. Oh, he’s a good leader. He’s competent. But he’s used to leading greens. Honest soldiers surviving by luck and faith in the Emperor. You, on the other hand, are one of them.’

‘I am that.’

‘Epsilon is a small deployment - well, large by our standards of course, but it’s only around forty men. But you will command much more respect from other units than any mere Captain of an ordinary unit would. Your experience - and abilities - belie both your age and your rank.’

‘I do my best, Colonel. And it was you that taught me everything that I know.’

‘Good man.’ The two soldiers had reached a large set of black marble double doors, carved gargoyles looking down upon the two Jaeger officers.

‘This is where I leave you, Padryn. Imrador will be leaving within the hour, and will meet you here. I haven’t told him - he will know.’

The younger man nodded. ‘Thank you, Colonel.’

‘I must report to General Jacka - whose son, you will be working alongside, as it happens.’ Colonel Pembrius sighed.

‘I feel this will be the last time I see you. One way or another.’ He extended his hand to his junior officer. ‘May forever and forever, farewell, Padryn. If we see each other again, why. We shall smile. But if not, well.’ The corner of the Colonel’s mouth edged upwards. ‘Then this parting was well made.’

The gloved hands of the two Jaeger officers met, and embraced. Then, with no more words, Colonel Ardallen Pembrius turned, and walked off along the corridor, his heavy steps echoing from the black marble walls and his cloak gently swishing behind him.

Captain Padryn Antaeus, 22nd Antarean Regiment, the Jaegers, stood in the doorway, contemplating a future of which he knew nothing.

---------------------------------------------------------------------
Kaffing Prime

‘Sergeant.’

Sergeant Haeric Actaon turned towards his superior.

‘Cap.’

Captain Janmar Malvolius adjusted his cap. The two men stood in the small pistol range - more of a glorified hut - the Jaegers had built in their staging area. It was now used occasionally by Gan-Haden soldiers by agreement, and there had been mutterings about the condition it had sometimes been left in, but so far - unlike Imperial policy tradition - diplomacy had prevailed.

‘Just to let you know what’s happening at command.’

‘We know, Cap.’ The shaven-headed Sergeant gave the Captain a strange look. ‘After this awards ceremony thing we’re off to Hagra III.’

‘Not the General’s command, Haeric.’ Malvolius grimaced. ‘Antarean command. There’s to be some changes, specifically, me.’

Haeric’s eyebrow raised. ’Sir?’

‘I’m being reassigned, Haeric.’ He shrugged. ’Back home to Antares Prime, to my old regiment. The fifty-first.’

A puzzled look crossed Haeric’s face. ‘Oh.’

‘So it looks like I’ll be leaving you when you head off to Hagra. Your new commander will be there. You’ll like him.’ He sighed. ‘He’s one of you lot after all.’

‘I see.’ Silence reigned between the two men.

‘Well. There it is. That’s after the ceremony. Oh, about that.’ He added. ‘I know your boys are part of the security force surrounding the place, but keep yourself and Phenton free.’

‘Not a very subtle hint there.’

‘Not especially. Otherwise, as you were.’ Malvolius sighed, and nodded. ‘Carry on, Sergeant.’

He marched off. Sergeant Haeric Actaon stood, slightly bewildered.

‘What did Rupert want?’

Moxiter had strode up to him.

‘Many things, Mox.’ A thoughtful expression was on his face. ‘Many things.’

[Hooter Hunter]

Kaffing Prime, Corsican Barracks

Hunter as was his habit with the rest of his visits didnt bother knocking, he just walked in. Henri Kliest looked up from the dataslate that he was writing and smiled upon seeing his old Comrade. "Hoots I am glad you stopped by."

Hunter threw up his hands in defense. "I swear to you I didnt know she was kin to you, and thge baby aint mine."

Kliest chuckled with Hunter and was secretly glad the man was in a good mood, especially with the news he wa about to give him. He rose and poured two shots of Corsican Brandy and motioned for Hunter to have a seat, only to see that Hunter had already made himself comfortable in an overstuffed barrel backed chair opposite his desk. "The Kaffings may not have known how to fight for hell, but they do know how to funish an office."

"I'll drink to that," Hunter said as he lifted his glass in a toast. "Now what I came by fer is to let ya know about the ..."

"Awards ceremony in three days," Kliest finished for Hunter. "You know how scuttlebutt is in the army. Word travels faster than the ancient Squat FTL comms you have." The two men had a good laugh at the truth of Kliests joke. "I already have turned in my recomendations so I can save you the time."

"Yer a good man Henri," Hunter said nodding to the Corsican. He felt a nudging against his leg and looked down to see Jack looking up at him expectantly. Hunter laughed and pulled out a treat and gave the pug, who promptly walked off to eat in private.

"You may not think so after I give you the news that I am sure, or at least hope you havent hear," Kliest paused as Hunter raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Kleist knew this was a sign that either the rumor hadnt been leaked, or in the least hadnt caught up to Hunter." I was in the middle of drafting this when you came in so I will just let you know now in person. Corsica is in political turmoil and I feel the need to return and see what I can do to striaghten things out. There are those on Corsica who will back me, and I think with a little luck and good publicity that I can rise high in the government."

Hunter smiled in understanding. "And comin off of a very succesfull campign with a couple of outstandin victories wont hurt at all will it?" Hunter waited for Kliest to nodd his agreement.

"Nor would it hurt to have most of my army supporting me, legally of course," Henri added.

"Knowin you as I do I suspect that you'll be ready to leave in about a week," Hunter nodded his understanding of the situation. "Henri we've known each other fer a good piece now, but I imagine that you are still a lil uncertain of how I will react to ya up and leavin, again." Kliest nodded. "Well its like this, you aint never been officially assigned to my command. Nor are you and yer lads even officialy in the Guard so there aint a whole lot I can do to stop ya, and I would be a fool to do so." Hunter was pleased to see a slight look of confusion cross Henri's face. " You have just explained to me that soon you will be a major political factor on Corsica. The way things are goin' with the BoO and all I made need a friend in a high place one day, I'll miss the quality of your troops and yer leadership, but best of luck to ya." Hunter extended his hand in friendship. "All I ask is that ya stay around fer the awards."

Kliest took Hunters hand in a firm shake and held it. "I can make you happy on two counts," it was Henri's turn to watch Hunter have a look of confusion. "First I would miss one of your bashes for anything, I'm sure that a freighter loaded with all manner of food and drink will arrive at any time. " Hunter grinned hugely and nodded. "And secondly I will be leaving behind a Grand Regiment to be commanded by one of my most promising officers, Colonel Besseau. I think you will like him and get along well, also the Grand Regiment will be about 8,800 men all together, organised similar to one of your Carolonian Expeditions, but on a much smaller scale."

"By that you mean Infantry, armor, and artillery all in one combined arms unit?" Hunter asked to be sure he was understanding the Corsican correctly.

"Yes exactly," Kliest confirmed.

Hunter smiled and lit a cigar and puffed it to life. "Good. I wanna meet this Colonel Besseau before ya leave. Lets say dinner in my quarters the day after the awards ceremony." Kliest nodded his agreement and Hunter rose to leave when O'Connor came in with a look on his face that Hunter knew all to well. "So tell me where is the Flyin Circus off to now?"

"Hagra III," O'Connor answered handing Hunter the dataslate. "It just came over the Squat Squawk vox. I have the full details in yer private quarters."

Hunter nodded, he had almost expected this after what the BoO had tried with their failed coup here on Kaffing Prime. Now at least he knew where that coward Arthis had fled and that he had some accounts to settle with him, if Dutch Fishborne didnt get to him first. "I want all senior staff members in my quarters at," Hunter looked at his watch, "2100 tonight, no excuses. I want Joseph Merces, Jessica Filis, and Major Beardy there at 1930."

"Yes sir," O'Connor turned and left to get the word out.

"You dont have to come if ya dont wanna," Hunter said to Kliest.

"Yeah well I think I'll go with Besseau so he can see how things work, and to keep him from being to surprised whe you are late." Kliest grinned at Hunter.

[Marctyce]

“Zaren!” Roschel greeted the Commissar as he entered the office. Zaren had arrived in full battle dress as requested.

“You have a job for me?” He asked through his breather.

“Perceptive.” Roschel said jokingly. “There has been some trouble with one of the Hagran units tasked with clearing some mutants on the lower levels of the primary Hive. I need you to get them back on track.”

“Consider it done.” Corth rose to leave.

“Also I want you take someone with you.” Corth paused.

“Another ‘project’ Ros?”

“Nothing so bad. Just a captain that Colonel Arthur believes has some promise. I think he’s right.”

“So… another ‘project.” Corth echoed.

“Just take the kid and go Commissar.”

“I am yours to command, Lord Brother.”

**********

Captain James Montere of the Hagran army watched the Commissar very closely. Lodged firmly in the back of a chimera on their way to the lower levels of the city. He had said nary a word since boarding the chimera, he simply sat to the side, his great black coat wrapped about him as a shroud. Possibly more concerting than the silence was the skeletal mask Corth had donned. While James had heard of the Kriegans and their constant use of breathing masks, he hadn’t expected a Commissar to carry on that tradition. James watched the man. He had learned that Corth had been a reliable and competent member of the brotherhood for more than a decade, but with no mention of how he accomplished this or what he had done.

“Why do you take orders from a Captain?” He was nervous about finally breaking the silence. “Does Captain Roschel’s standing in the Brotherhood really carry that much weight?” For a while Commissar Corth just stared back at him. James was beginning to think he wasn’t going to answer at all.

“I am his to command.” His voice chilled James. It the disembodied effect that his expressionless skeletal mask had was truly disturbing. “ His standing in the Brotherhood gains him that and much more.” Corth leaned in towards James. “If he ever tells you to jump, you ask ‘How high?’ on the way down.”


“But…”

“Who is in command down here?” James pulled up a data sheet.

“Captain Lataux. A veteran soldier and a good man.”

“Apparently not good enough.” Corth rasped. James frowned at the man.

“I don’t think that’s fai-“

“We have arrived.” Corth stood and was apparently unfazed by the sudden jerking stop of the chimera. James had to rush just to keep up with the Commissar.

Clack. Clack. Clack. Corth’s gait was swift but unhurried. Each step he took seemed measured and sure but the pace was deceiving and James found himself falling behind. The Chimera had stopped midway down a main avenue between hab buildings. The last recorded position of Lataux was another two blocks down. The screams and the distinctive flash of lasguns was the first sign that something was wrong. Corth made a sound of disproval audible through his breather.

“Ready your weapons.”

“Uh…” Captain Montere suddenly felt rather uncomfortable. Corth stopped in his tracks and turned on the young Captain.

“You are unarmed?” He sounded shocked. For a moment, James just stood there as the Commissar stared at him. “I aught to execute you right here.” Corth stated bluntly. Before fear could even set in, the Commissar threw a laspistol at him and turned away, grunting in disgust.

“Will you be all right, sir?” James asked rather sheepishly.

“Yes. Unlike you I came prepared.” To punctuate this Corth pulled out an ancient looking bolt pistol. Corth motioned with the old revolver. “Stay close. This doesn’t sound good.”

Together they stepped around the corner and into disaster. They arrived in time to see a handful of Ogryn charging a line of Hagran troops. The men stood for a moment then as the Ogryns laid into them with their fists, the troops broke and fled. They ran about Montere and Corth without even registering that there was a Commissar in their midst. James looked expectantly at his compatriot.

Zaren Corth stood still. Men flowed by, and the thunderous roar of the Ogryn drew closer.

“Sir?” James prodded, but was provided with no response. “The Ogryns are coming sir!” He opened fire without waiting for the Commissar. Corth finally moved. Reaching out he grabbed a passing soldier.

“Captain Lataux. I must say I’m very disappointed.” The man in his grasp looking over his shoulder let out a yelp of terror. One of the huge Ogryn was looming over the Commissar.

Without taking his eyes off of the quailing Captain, Corth fired two rounds out of his pistol. The massive creature jerked back and suddenly evaporated into a red mist.

“You have failed the Emperor in spectacular fashion Lataux.” The officer’s head pivoted then from the fear of the Ogryn to the fear of the Commissar.

“Two more sir!” Montere yelled. Finally Zaren Corth was spurred to action. Dropping the captive captain, he fired another round from his revolver into one Ogryn then with uncanny speed he pulled a sword and delivered it to the heart of the other. He stepped back before the creature fell on him. Montere firing all the while managed to fell another beast. Nodding his approval Corth turned back to the cowering Captain. His voice was suddenly booming, to the point where all the surviving troops took note.

“Captain Danvers Lataux. You are guilty of dereliction of post, cowardice, incompetence in command, failure in the eyes of the Emperor…” Before Montere could warn him, Corth paused to launch two rounds into an oncoming Ogryn, launching it backward and redistributing it across the street. “Your penalty is death.” Swinging his bolt pistol back around he placed his final round between the Captain’s eyes. There was a deathly silence. Even the Ogryns halted their advance in the sight of such brutality. Montere watched in awe as his Commissar made use of the opportunity.

“Hagrans!” He yelled, his deathly voice still amplified and strangely moving. You have failed in the eyes of a broken man, but his penance is paid. Take your arms and come to me. The Emperor sustain you! Fear not the xenos, fear not the heretic, and fear not the mutant!” With sword in hand he turned to the now stalled Ogryn. “Give me your blood and your oaths. For the God Emperor! For the Brotherhood!”

“Let. Them. Be. Purged!”

**********

“It was a disgrace Ros.” It was the most emotion James had seen Commissar Corth display. “They were running from Ogryns.”

“I’ve seen better men than you retreat from the charge of an Ogryn unit Zaren.” Captain Roschel replied coolly. “It isn’t exactly out of the question.”

“Worker Ogryns. Unarmed, worker Ogryns. It wasn’t a military unit of trained abhumans, just some angry beasts, and the whole battalion went to pieces.” The words stung, but James knew there was truth in them. Before he had arrived with the Commissar, they had put together from trooper reports that the Ogryn sensing the cleansing that was coming had rolled into the lines of the guard and pushed on till they assaulted Captain Lataux’s position and had forced him to flee. Emperor only knew how the Commissar had gotten through to the men and pulled them out of their fear.

“I’ve seen green units do better, Ros. It was shameful.” Zaren continued.

“The regiment was one of the last raised before the war ended and it was tasked with holding Polaris, as the Hagrans surrendered before we assaulted the city the unit saw no action. I was hoping that this would be a simple enough op for them to cut their teeth.” The Captain admitted with a hint of regret.

“A woeful mistake.”

“Well Zaren, it’s a good thing you opened up a command spot in the regiment for a tough nosed Commissar to whip them into shape.” Roschel added brightening up noticeably.

“Ros, please tell me you’re kidding. These men would be hard tasked protecting a street lamp much less fighting the forces the Samothracians have arrayed against us. At least tell me I’m getting a decent 2IC.” Roschel took on a very self-satisfied look.

“You tell me. You spent most of the day with him.” To Montere’s displeasure Corth looked horrified.

“Him?” The Commissar gave him a dumbfounded look. “He showed up at a military operation without a firearm.”

“Really?” The senior Captain gave him a disapproving frown that spoke volumes. “Well maybe he’s not as promising as we thought.” James felt awful. Corth seemed to recover his stoic demeanor.

“Tell me, Ros. Why do I get stuck with the ‘projects’?” Roschel turned and gave his comrade an enigmatic smile.

“Because you are the ‘Hand of the Brotherhood’ my dear Commissar.”

[Antaeus]

Cassitor II, ten years earlier

The man who stood before Captain Hunter of the Carolonian Highlanders was tall, lean, handsome, his clean jaw line accentuating his unblemished features.

‘It seems simple enough, Captain. I just don’t see why you can’t simply bombard the compound.’

Hunter shook his head.

‘Nah, nah. We need the supplies they have holed up in there. Good strategic position too.’

‘Very well. The way your men were going about they look like they’re planning to ship off-planet.’

Hunter nodded, sitting upright in the hardwood chair behind the small desk, littered with maps and data slates. ‘Major personnel change. We’re back off to Carolon for some R and R. Almost total rotation.’

‘You’ve earned it.’ The man’s mouth edged into a small smile. ‘Good men you have, Hunter. Loyal. Honest. Faithful.’

‘Loyalty comes as standard in the Guard.’

‘Ah, but in many guises and a hundred shades.’ The man’s black cloak rippled slightly as he paced Hunter’s makeshift office, the warm fire heating his legs and flank as he walked past it. ‘The loyalty of a Guardsman is different to that of the Astartes, the Ministorum, to Death Cults such as us.’

Hunter shook his head. ‘Yer not Death Cultists.’

‘Then what are we? Assassins?’ The man gave a small shrug. ‘It matters little. We are the Emperor’s loyal servants, just as you and your men and all the men on this planet are.’

‘Aye. That’s the Imperium for you. A mess of humanity, united in one cause, and no weaker for that.’

‘Philosophy, Hunter?’ Teeth glinted, a predator’s smile. ‘I never thought that was your strong point.’

‘Never expected it from a killin’ machine either in truth’

‘Please. The term ‘killing machine’ is so uncivilised.’

Hunter smiled, his left hand balled into a fist on the desk. He was conscious of the small film of sweat breaking out across his brow.

‘You seem nervous, tense, Hunter. Is something the matter.’

‘No, no.’ He shook his head emphatically. ‘Just thinking’. And it’s hot in here.’ He gestured towards the small bottle and glasses that sat atop an upturned ammunition box. ‘Drink?’

The tall man hesitated.

‘Go on. One won’t kill yer. Carolonian brandy.’

He wavered. ‘Very well.’

Hunter poured two glasses of the amber liquid, the brandy gurgling contentedly as it flowed. He handed one to his guest.

‘Thank you.’ The man raised his glass. ‘To loyalty, Captain Hunter.’

‘Yes.’ Hunter’s hand shook as he raised his glass to meet the other, the alcohol lapping from side to side. ‘To loyalty.’

There was the clink of glasses, and the two friends drank together for the last time.

[Feran]

"So..." Feran scratched at his chin, "yeah..." Joseph and Jessica looked at each other in shock. Feran had called them to a private meeting at their honeymoon mansion before dinner, without any other details. The mercenary captain took out his hip flask and drank deeply.

Joseph let out a huge burst of air and scratched at his bandaged shoulder. "So what your telling me is General Hunter owns you?"

"Yeah, I am an indentured servant..." Feran sourly put his flask back in its pouch. He had disowned his major's uniform in favor for his old captain's clothes. The captain still looked the very same as he had back on Hagra III all those years ago. The old crimson jacket with the gold trim reminded Joseph of the swirling hand to hand combat between the Blood Pact and the Guard. He had almost killed Feran in the fight because of the red jacket, but luckily for both of them, the gold trim had alerted Joseph soon enough before the final blow could be struck. It was surprisingly good to see the Feran Karia back to his normal self. His long black hair cascaded down to his shoulders, in an unruly fashion. As always, the three cornered captains hat rested at an odd angle on Feran's head.

"So what do you want me to do about it?" Joseph asked shrugging, completely lost as to where this was going.

"Wanna join the fourteenth duh," Feran scoffed, "I am a little tired off this whole mercenary work anyway. Why don't the lads and I join the fourteenth and when we get tired of that, we can just move on." Jessica coughed and promptly excused herself from the room.

Stunned, Joseph poured himself a glass of wine, ignoring Feran's wandering eye that followed Jessica out of the room. "Lovely catch there," Feran whispered.

"What?" Joseph barked, spilling wine on the mahagani table.

"Hmm?" Feran looked back at Joseph with wide eyes.

"What did you just say?" Joseph asked, pulling out his handkerchief to dry the table.

"Excuse me," Feran asked, slightly offended.

"What did you say?" Joseph thundered, losing his patiences.

"What?" Feran threw up his hands in surrender.

"Huh?"

"What?" Feran raised his eyebrows questioningly.

Joseph slapped his forehead, "Alright Feran, I will let you and your mob join, under one condition."

"Enlighten me, Joe Joe," Feran stretched his legs over the table, resting them right on top of silk napkin.

"Two conditions," Joseph corrected himself, grimacing at his friends rudeness. "No calling me Joe Joe, and second, I am the supreme commander, you are my subordinate. That means that it is time to put aside the captain's ranking and join the ranks of Colonels."

Feran whistled, scratching his chin in surprise. Absently, he reached into his pouch and pulled out his flask. He drank deeply, his eyes lost in thought. Swallowing loudly, he made up his mind. "Deal... but I want to keep wearing my hat... and my coat."

"I would have it no other way," Joseph grinned. "Cheers." The two friends toasted to the fourteenth Makian. They laughed and drained their respective drinks.

There was a polite knock at the door, Jessica entered, accompanied by O' Connor. "Joseph we need to meat with Hunter." Jessica went over and knocked Feran's feet of the table. Feran protested bitterly, but Joseph silenced him with a glare. "While you two were busy drinking, we got orders."

"Where?" They both asked simultaneously.

"Hagra III." Feran and Joseph looked at each other in shock. "Hoots is insisting that Joseph, Beardy and I meet him before the general briefing," Jessica continued briskly. "So, I am sorry Feran but you are going to have to wait till then to find out exactly what is going on."

"No, he is going with," Joseph replied gravely, standing up unsteadily.

"Why?" Jessica whirled around to face her soon to be husband.

"He is my second in command, I need him to be there with me."

Jessica's mouth fell open as the two men left the room briskly, not saying another word.

[Hooter Hunter]

Hunters quarters 1930 hours

"Whats he doin here?" Hunter asked Joseph Merces as he looked at the motley form of Feran Karia.

"He is my new second in command," Joseph said and then immediately launched into the discussion they had had earlier about Ferans Mob transfering over to the Makians. "I was going to submit the proper paper work in the morning for your approval."

"Do it anyway," Hunter replied, "ya know how the bean counters in the Munitorium love to have all the i's crossed and the t's dotted. I will approve the transfer but not his status as yer second in command."

"Sir?" Joseph asked in a shocked voice. He and most other commanders were used yo Hunter being very easy going when it came to how they ran their own particular regiments.Hunter slid the dataslat containing his orders to HagraIII across the desk. Joseph took the slate and began to read through it then when he reached the end he whistled. "I never thought I would see that in my life."

"What?" Feran and Jessica chorused in unison.

Joseph turned the pict screen towards them. "The seal of the Lord Militant of Terra." Joseph smiled inwardly as both their jaws dropped open slightly.

"As ya'll can see we are now under his dirct authority..." Hunter began but was cut off by Feran.

"And you dont want any amateur taking charge of a Guard regiment," he said bitterly.

"If ya would let me finish," Hunter glared at Feran as he lit his cigar. "The reason is because I am temporarily relievin ya of command. From thgis moment on Jospeh you will be at mine and Drews disposal as our XO fer the comin campaign. Beardy you are now senior officer, and if you would like Mr Feran as yer 2IC then thats fine. Otherwise you and Jessica are in charge of the day to day runnin of the 14th."

"Understood," Beardy nodded as did Jessica.

"Why?" Joseph asked sounding a little confused.

"Of all the folks I know you have the most knowledge of Hagra III and will be invaluble on takin it back," Hunter complimented him. "You are also a damned fine tactician and have enough sense to speak yer mind and not just stand by and let me make some damned fool plan that will fail. I need that and so does Drew if this campaign is to succeed." Hunter then turned and addressed Jessica. " I apologise in advance , but you will see very lil of yer man until we lift. Every wakin moment he has will be with me and Drew, so take advantage of the next two days you have until after the Ceremony in the garden to enjoy his company, cause I intend to keep his ass runnin so long that he will just wanna sleep when he gets back to ya."

"Oh I think I can wake him up," Jessica said with a smile that caused the small group to laugh.

"Do you have a plan already?" Joseph asked.

"I got one in mind but I wann work out a few details with Drew before i show ya," Hunter said with a grin as he began to explain to his three guests a little about they would have many advantages of being under direct conrtol of the Lord Militant, but yet how they didnt want to parade it to loudly.
******************************************
2100 hours

Hunter nodded as the door closed and he knew that Hef and his boys had a good handle on security. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he addressed the gathered officers. "I have a few bits of info I wanted to tell ya'll in person rather than let word leak down the grapevine. First off we will be losin Mashall Henri Kliest soon as he and a large part of his force will be leaving us to return to Corsica. They came to our aid in our time of need several times and will be missed," Hunter raised his glass in a toast that was joined by the rest of the gathered officers. None questioned the legitimacy of the Corsicans leaving, as they saw that it had Hunters open blessing. "But fear not Henri is leavin Colonel Besseau and his own nephew Major Kliest and his commandoes as official Guard units to represent Corsica in our future deployments."

There was a dull murmur in the room as the officers buzzed about a future deployment. Most were hoping that the Munitorium would drag its feet a few more months to rest and replenish their troops."Secondly," HUnter said to gain everyones attention again. "Commisar Colonel Joseph Merces has been relieved of command of the 14th Makian." Hunter lett he shocked buzz get a good start before grinning widely. "Its just tempoary, he will be min and Drews XO fer the plannin of the in vasion of Hagra III."

Hunter just puffed on his ciggar until the room quietened down of its own accord. When the room was sufficently quiet for him to speak again he did, but this time he read from the dataslate that he had recieved his orders on. "The Task Force led by Lord General Anthony Eddard Hunter is here by directed to proceed with the utmost speed to the world of Hagra III and return it to Imperial Compliance as laid down by the Holy Emperor of Minkind. As of the moment of receipt of this message theis task force will be an independant entity of its own and will answer only to the High Lord Militant General of Terra. Further more Lord General Hunter now has Carte Blanche to wage this war as he see's fit and to use any and all resources available to him. This is signed by the High Lord Militant General Wujen his ownself." HUnter tossed the dataslate to Colonel Dark who read it with awe and passed it on to Colonel Ramion who sat next to him.

"We do have some reinforcements comin our way," Hunter announced. "The 172nd Dnieprian, two more regiments from Valhalla, and a tank regiment from Malacs Cross. Most of those will arrive at Hagra III after we have made our initial landings. As I am sure most of ya have seen they expect us to lift in 30 days. I want reports on my desk by 1900 three days from now on how yer gonna get yer sorry asses off this rock in 20 days."

"Lord General Hunter if I may speak," Hunter looked up to see General Gessler standing in the back of the room. Hunter nodded his approval. "You and your troops have liberated my world from the oppresive hand that was choking the life out of it. Even now we are rebuilding the damage of this war and harbor no ill will to you and your men. Infact the new Council of Parliment has just voted on this very day to offer to you three regiments to aid your future campaigns. If you will have them I will see to it personally tha they are ready by the time you leave."

Hunter nodded his head in respect to the General who had become more or less the defacto Govenor of Kaffing Prime. "They will a welcome asset. Thank you. Now as far as the rest of ya slacker goes the awards ceremony will go forward as planned in two days, then we get ready to unass this place. Any questions?"

[Hooter Hunter]

Hunter rose early on this day in preparation for the awards and medals that he was to hand out to the brave soldiers who had served him and the Imperium so well.He contemplated the day ahead as he donned his best dress uniform, complete with all the medals that he had earned over the years. He knew that each and every medal was earned the hard way and that each soldier was the best that could be found. He also knew that every man and woman under his command earned their own medals just for surviving the suicide campaign that they had been set on. He knew for a fact that he wasnt supposed to return, and the treachery of Commisar Arthis would have ensured that the largest part of the task force would have been killed or in the least languishing in a Kaffing POW cell. It was only due to the wuick thinking of Colonels Strife and Fishborne that the task force had been saved.

He and Faith had arrived at the mess hall that had been turned over to the Hopitailers at 0600. His arrival was signaled by the silver bells in his braided hair jingling softly as he walked in, he was nearly moved to tears when the walking wounded that he was to break his fast with stood and cheered him upon his entrance. Hunter held up his hands for silence, " I thank you fer yer cheers, but it is I," his voice broke as a lump formed in his throat. Hunter looked around the room and met as many eyes as he could. "It is I who cheer you." Hunte tried to go on but was drowned out by the cheering soldiers. A Makian private with a newly installed bionic arm reached out and took Hunters arm to lead him to his place at the table.

Hunter talked with the soldiers from either side of him as he ate a sausage, egg and cheese sandwich and washed it down with a cold glass of sweet tea. He learned of their wounds and where they had taken them. Once finished with breakfast he gave each man the purple colored medals that Imperial troops recieved for taking a wound in combat. He moved down the table and spoke to each man and pinned the medals on their chests personally. Then as he made his exit the soldiers with whom he had just shared a meal stood and cheered him again. This time he was moved to tears.

Hunters next stop was to the infirmary where those who were wounded to badly to join him for breakfast were still convalecing in their beds. His entrance was noticed only by those who were concious and closest to the door that he came into. Those that saw him smiled and extended their hands, if they were lucky enough to still have them, to shake with Hunter. Again as before Hunter took his time with each soldier and spoke with them about their wounds, where they had taken them, and about where they came from. This wasnt Hunters first time visiting the wounded in the infirmary, he had always made it a habit to visit his wounded troops every chance he was given, it reminded him that this is where his success came from, not his tactics or strategies.

Hunter reached the last soldier in the ward. The the man had burn bandages over most of his body, and mercifully was unconcious. Hunter sat on the dge of the bed and took the comatose troopers hand in his own and said a prayer to the Emperor and then to Pius for the man, then turned and looked at the doctor for an explanation.

"This is Lt Cooper Hawks of the 1st Gan Haden Wild Cards," the doctor began reading off his chart. "He has burns over 65% of his body and we are keeping him in a medically induced coma so that he doesnt feel the pain while the gel bandages do their thing."

Hunter then remembered that Lt Hawks had been put in for the Medallion Crimson by Colonel Fishborne. He had run into his burning Chimera many times to pull his comrades out of the doomed APC during the joint assault with the Jaegers. He had then led his platoons assault for the rest of the battle, literally surviving and fighting the pain by using every stim pack he could get. Hunter turned to Faith who handed him the first medal, the Medallion Crimson. Hunter pinned it on the still soldiers pillow and then turned to Faith for the Medallion Lavender.

"I'm sorry honey but we're out," she said surprised as she looked in the box and back to her husband. Obviously someone in the Munitorium had gotten their meticulous number crunching wrong.

"Dont worry General," the doctor spoke softly, "he'll be under for a few weeks more, and you'll have time to get another medal and bring to him. He'll never know."

"Yeah but I will," Hunter stated and then took his own Medallion Lavender off of his chest and pinned it on the pillow next to the Crimson.

"Sir I'll make sure he knows how that got there," a Sojourn trooper in the next bed said with a grim look of determination.

"My thanks," Hunter said as he walked out of the ward.
****************************************

The skirl of Bagpipes sounded as Hunter walked into the garden where he was to give out the rest of the medals that had been earned so hard on Kaffing Prime. Honor Guards came to attention and saluted, Regimental banners were dipped as he passed, and finnaly when upon the stage that had been erected more cheers sprang from the throats of the gathered troops.

Again Hunter waved down the applause and waited for silence. " Men and women of this task force we have dubbed the Flyin Circus, you are to be congratulated on a job well done." Cheers drowned him out again. "All of you have played yer part. All of ya have pulled yer weight, well maybe except Major Podge who as we all know is to busy collecting and paying out bets to fight a war properly."

Hunter waited for the laughter to die down before speaking again. He smiled knowing that Conner Stewart was grinning at Podges expense, in fact the Squat Lt Colonel had dared Hunter to say something like that. "The first two men I would like to award are Colonels Fishborne and Strife."

"Colonels Fishborne and Strife Front and Center!" Sgt Major Arlees voice boomed out.

Hunter took a moment to enjoy the look of surprise that crossed each man face. "For the daring initiative,as painfull and hard as it was for both of ya, in putting down the Arthis mutiny I hereby award both of ya the Macharian Cross." Hunter took each medal from the pillow, held by Faith who was beaming at Dutch, that they rested on and draped the medals around each mans neck."Well done gentelmen."

"Next for valor I call Color Sgt Rodger Kronium and Master Sgt Rebecca Galleron," Hunter announced. He waited for Sgt Major Arlee to bellow out their names and then shook their hands as they came up on stage. "Color Sgt Kronium for storming three Kaffing bunkers during the assault on the winter palace single handedly you are hereby awarded the Honorifica Imperialis. Congratulations." Hunter shook Kroniums hand and then turned to Rebbeca. "Master Sgt Galleron for courage under fire, and for making your way back through enemy lines to get the message out of the 47th Vednikian plight during the battle of Eanac you are hereby awarded the Order of the Silent Aquila." Hunter pinned the medal on her chest.

Rebecca was practically dancing and fondling her shiney new medal when the urge over took her."Oh what the hell, she thought to herself, I dont get this chance every day. Quickly she jumped up and grabbed Hunters neck and pulled his face to hers, where she placed a huge wet kiss on him, full on the mouth.It was a kiss that saved Hunters life, for had he stood up the hot shot round that split the floor in front of him would have split his head.

[Firstandonly14]

"What the feth!" Jessica exclaimed as Joseph knocked her to the ground. In the same motion, he drew his bolt pistol with his left hand. Joseph had lost two wives before and he was determined not to lose this one.

"Dutch!" Joseph shouted over to Colonel Fishborne who was just as confused as Joseph. Dutch fell to his knees, also drawing his side arm. Strife jumped over the stage and helped haul Hunter into cover, his ancient bolt pistol gleaming in the sun. The Space Wolves seemed to appear from no where, shouting orders and barking like angry dogs for the guardsmen to move.

"What Joseph?" Dutch yelled over the panicked crowd.

"Quick we gotta get to Hunter!" Joseph motioned to Dutch, who nodded his understanding. "Stay here!" Joseph shoved the stunned Jessica back to the ground, "I am not willing to lose another wife." Pius divided over to where Joseph had pushed Jessica into cover.

"I'll keep her safe," the Saint reborn promised. Joseph nodded and turned back to Dutch. As one, they jumped to their feet and ran towards the stage.

[fishborne]

Dutch grabbed Alec deleon, his regimental master-vox and one of the few that had a vox with him at the awards ceremony, and screamed "get backup here now! Seal the place off!" Then shouted at the assembled 'Wildcards' within ear shot of him to cover the west exit for a quick escape.

Men and women were running everywhere. Havoc of soldiers dashing into what little cover they could afford, bellowing orders to squadmates, or just screaming because of the insanity of their general almost killed created a mess of noise.

-----------------------------------

Space Wolf Baldur Haugen scanned the trees 200 meters to the west of the stage. Normally only a blur of shadow to the normal mans naked eye, Bauldur's auto senses pick up a dashing figure bounding from one stand of trees to another.

"Contact!" the space marine bellowed over the din while stepping infront of the kneeling hunter and strife.

That move saved Hunters life as another Hotshot round slammed into the massive marines thigh. The shot intended for hunter cleaved through plasteel plating of the space wolf blowing his leg off and toppling the giant. Who fell screaming curses and oaths.

-------------------------------------

Joseph and Fishborne scrambled over the damaged stage over to where strife and Hunter had last been seen.

later,
fishborne

[Marctyce]

Erié Sector – Space Dock IV442

In low orbit over the gas giant Ogma a young man stared out at the stars. It wasn’t at the neighboring sector of Jahamel that he looked, or towards the distant home of his race, the legendary Terra. He looked instead to someplace he would never again see, to a place he could only recall now in tale and story. He looked toward his home. A simple speck in a sea of shining lights, the white star of Gael shown before him begging him for a reunion that would never come. He had chosen exile when he joined the guard, for no armed forces were allowed in the Gaelan system. This included home raised regiments. That was the pact they had made with the Emperor himself, and that was the pact to which they held true.

“Staring at her won’t help. After fifty years of service you should trust me on that.” With a reluctance known to a man of longing, Seamus Gaeth rose to from the railing of the observation deck. The speaker was his CO General Craig Rafferty.

“I don’t doubt your words General, but a law doesn’t mean a man can’t wish.” The aged General responded with a discouraging look.

“Wishing is for the levictus thumpers.” Colonel Gaeth gave him a winning smile.

“Aye, they’ll have their prayers, and their wishes. I’ll have my duty over false hope any day.” His smile faded a touch. “I just wish that kept it from hurting so.”

“As do we all, Col. As do we all.” The General echoed. Rising from his reverie he clapped Seamus on the back. “Collect yourself and get to room 226 I have news.” Without another word he strolled off leaving Gaeth to collect himself for most likely the most exciting part of his week.

*

Colonel Gaeth found his 2IC in the training complex rather than one of the numerous pubs aboard SD IV442 where he had expected to. Dancing amongst the servos designed for space marines was his young second in command. In truth, using the training servos of the space marines wasn’t uncommon amongst his men, doing so without their carapace armor however was consider crazy. With a distinct look of disgust, noted by the mechanist keepers of the facility, Seamus slapped the disengage button for the drones. The servos spun into static form as Captain Marctyce O’Laoire danced back then slumped down in exhaustion. Col. Gaeth stood over his Captain.

“Just what the frell do you think you are doing?” Without waiting for a response he continued on. “Are you crazy? Training without any sort of protection?” Despite his obvious fatigue O’Laoire pulled himself to his feet.

“No, sir. Crazy would have been using the drones at Astartes regimen rather than Neophyte regimen.” Seamus gave a glance to the adeptus mechanius brothers who oversaw the drills. The response was an apologetic shrug of machine parts.
With a sigh Gaeth grabbed O’Laoire by the arm and hauled him to his feet.

“Crazy is working a marine regime at all, neophyte included, with no armor. Now get cleaned up. The General has news. Room 226, half hour.” For the first time in months there was a light in Marctyce’s eyes.

“Sir. Yes, sir.”

*

General Rafferty waited till both men were seated before beginning his briefing. Admiral Lascalle was the forth man in the room, and steadfastly stared out the small viewing port towards his fleet in orbit.

“Bad news first.” Col. Gaeth ‘requested.’ The General suppressed a smile. The Colonel reminded him of himself at a younger age.

“There is an uprising in a Jahemel.” Rafferty paused to let that register.

“Jahemel?” Col. Gaeth mused. “Isn’t that Makia’s sector? What have they done in response?”

“Makia’s progenium and academies seem to have joined with the separatists.” Captain O’Laoire let out a low whistle.

“Chaos?” Gaeth inquired gravely.

“No, they claim to be loyalists to the God-Emperor.” The General a moments pause. “And intelligence seems to corroborate that.” A stunned silence followed.

“So what would be the good news?” Gaeth asked, he sounded almost scared to find out.

“Kaffling Prime has been brought into compliance against long odds by a General Anthony Hunter.”

“Is that Hooter?” Marctyce asked without being prompted.

“Do we know him?” Col. Gaeth asked trying to recall the man. His subordinate occasionally had a better memory than he did.

“Yes. He was a commander during the 13th False Crusade.”

“Ours?” Seamus was feeling slightly ashamed. He remembered men, but not this ‘Hooter.’

“No, sir. He wasn’t ours. We held the same front on Cadia a few times though. As I recall he was proud, forward, disrespectful of command, arrogant, loved cigars, was quite sure if his own self, was one frell of a womanizer, and supposedly demanded for surrender of a berserker squadron that assaulted his unit on one occasion.” Marctyce broke into a large grin. “I rather liked the bastard.”

“A resounding affirmation if I ever heard one.” Seamus agreed rolling his eyes in place of sarcasm.

“He was a good man.” Marctyce protested with a frown.

“The Captain seems to have the right of it.” The Admiral who had been silent to this point agreed.

“Seems?” Echoed Gaeth, a little lost.

“In his quest for recompliance of Kaffling Prime, General Hunter was supposedly joined by Colonel Jacka and his Orphan Brigade, as well as numerous forces from Corsica.” Rafferty explained. A silence fell about the four men. They had heard of the declaration herectus of Colonel Jacka though belief was hard to follow. “It was to be a doomed mission. His next will be worse, the heart of the uprising on Hagra III.”

“Have the Corsicans been declared Herectus as well?” O’Laoire asked.

“No.” The Admiral answered. “But there have been rumblings to that decree. Someone wants it.” This was all tough to digest for Gaeth. Too many mixed signals were cropping up.

“What of orders from General Nuada?” He inquired. While General Rafferty was the impromptu commander of the Gaelan regiments, General Nuada was their true commander, the impromptu ‘ruler’ of the Wild Geese.

“Officially, he requests reinforcements for his active forces.”

“Unofficially?” Gaeth pressed, hoping to hear his leaders thoughts. General Rafferty hesitated for just a moment then sighed his assent.

“He says that a skirmishes with the forces of Chaos have tethered him to Ursarkar’s hip. He dares not leave, and Creed dares not let him go. He and his forces are needed by the Cadians’ right now.” For the second time the admiral spoke.

“This seems to be a power struggle. The ‘Levictus thumpers’ are making a bid for power.” Rafferty noted.

“General, what is our role in this?” The Colonel asked guardedly. The Wild Geese had no love for Gods. They had seen the Emperor himself, while the greatest of men; they viewed him not as a God.

“The nominal forces of the Gaelan ‘Irregulars’ are to stand ready.” The General said with some disappointment.

“What does General Nuada think of that?” Marctyce again asked without prompting. Colonel Gaeth would have given him a look if he hadn’t been thinking the same thing. Rafferty was silent for a long time. Finally with a prompting nod from Admiral Lascalle, the 2IC of the Wild Geese spoke.

“He thinks that someone, who knows of our aversion to Gods, it trying to keeps us out of this conflict.” That was a serious accusation. For a while no one spoke.

“Nuada and his forces have been reasonably tied up on Cadia.” Gaeth spoke slowly.

“But it has been two months since your forces have been active, and that is a long stretch for the Wild Geese.” The Admiral finished, still staring out his view port.

“Nuada says someone is keeping us out of this war.” General Rafferty said with sudden frankness. “Make no mistake gentlemen this is a war.”

“Will Nuada be returning then?” Gaeth asked with a distant hope.

“No. He was serious about the situation at the Cadian Gate. The loss of the Wild Geese regiments, or any allies for that matter would be difficult for Creed. Chaos cannot go unchallenged. We are bound to obey the orders of the Administratum” Rafferty paused notably. “To this end he has issued reports that 2nd and 3rd regiments have been at ready status here, for the next year.”

“What? How can we be at ready for a full year? We’ve been here but two months.” Captain Marctyce ranted in confusion. His CO on the other hand saw the subtlety of the situation.

“My forces are here then, for the next year?” Regardless of our actual location? The last part was unspoken for security reasons, but he knew the General understood. He received a curt nod in affirmation. Captain O’Laorie seemed to finally understand. His eyes went wide.

“Admiral?” He inquired somewhat delicately. The Admiral let out a long sigh before responding.

“The Lord Militant is an old friend. I have a shipment to make to Hagra III.” Lascalle said slowly. “Beyond that, I’m afraid I can offer nothing. It is not my sector.” General Rafferty and Colonel Gaeth nodded their understanding. The Admiral was an old man, even by the prestigious standards of the Imperium, and the Erié was a post of prestige.

“Gather the officers. We have a campaign to discuss.” Gaeth whispered to Marctyce. The younger officer nodded solemnly.

“By your leave, General, Admiral.”

*

Marctyce found his fellow Captain Iesild Cuinhe one of the numerous beer halls of SD IV442. She was fully engaged in embarrassing some of the Admiral’s finest fleet officers in alcohol tolerance. She was about to start in on the fleet Sergeants when he cut in.

“Izzy, Colonel has some work for us.” Despite her blood alcohol level her hazel eyes lit up. “Sorry boys,” She apologized amongst the protests of the Sergeants. “CO calls.” Her lithe dark haired frame left the NCOs lamenting.

“Don’t know why you insist on such contests.” Marctyce observed.

“You know a better way to get free booze?” Captain Cuinhe inquired sweetly as girl fully half her age, completely sober to boot. Marctyce let out a short barking laugh.

“Just get O’Cuinn and MacRaith ready for briefing. We’ve got some work to do.”


Colonel Gaeth looked over his commanding officers with a certain amount of satisfaction. In less than an hour they had reported, and had stated each that their forces could be ready in less than a further hour. He knew this was exaggeration, but not by much. He didn’t waste their time.

“General Rafferty has given us freedom of movement up to a year.” He statement was a simple one, but it earned some skeptical looks. The Gaelan ‘Irregulars,’ were known as a whole as the Wild Geese were mostly autonomous. This meant the Administratum almost always made sure they had orders to keep them busy, so such leeway wasn’t often afforded to the Wild Geese. “With Rafferty’s support, General Nuada intends for us to join the forces in opposition to a separatist movement in the Jahemel sector.”

“Hoorah, sir. It’ll be good to be active again.” Captain Izzy Cuinhe spoke.

“Roger that, sir. We’ll ready before the day is done.” It was MacRaith this time.

“Don’t rush yourselves. We leave at the end of the week. Full combat prep at that time. Dismissed.” All of his officer’s saluted. Colonel Gaeth wondered what his soon to be CO General Hunter was like. He never doubted though that he had joined the right side.

[Hooter Hunter]

For a brief moment in time the chaos around Hunter seemed to eveaporate. Master Sgt Rebecca Galeron had taken the iniative and pushed Hunter off and behind the stage and then landed on top of him, sheilding him with her body, or at least thats how she hoped it looked. Jen Wilson is gonna be green with envy when she finds out just who I got on top of,Rebecca grinned to herself. I am gonna sooo rub it in her face about this. "Sir I think we should stay here to keep you safe and all."

Hunter grinned at Rebecca whose petite form looked rediculus trying to sheild his 6'5" frame. Hunter then noticed that her uniform was a few sizes to big for her and literally hanging off her. He chanced a look down her combat blouse. " I think perhaps after this is over I will introduce ya to my personal tailor so ya can hae a few decent fittin uniforms."

Rebecca saw where Hunters eyes were and giggled. "And maybe you can see those later." Now just wait until I tell Jen THAT!, the meichevious Vednikian thought to herself. She was about to kiss Hunter again when someone dove over the stage and knocked her off of her place of "Honor."

"Sorry to interupt sir," Colonel Strife said as he stared into Rebeccas eyes and clearly saw a pissed off young woman. "But I think we need to get you out of here. In case you didnt notice someones trying to kill you."

Hunter took the opprotunity and rolled over on his stomach and lita cigar. "Aint the first time," he mumbled as he puffed the cigar to life. "You seen Faith?"

As if by speaking her neame he conjured her up she came over the stage and gave cover fire for Colonel Fishborne. Hunter looked to Rebecca and just shrugged, as if saying to her that fun time was over. It was then that Hauldur was hit in the leg. Hunter rose to drag his bodyguard back to cover but was pushed back into cover. Hunter looked to his right and saw Faith giving him a harsh look, and Rebecca doing the same on the left.

For a long moment the two women stared over Hunters head at each other, then turned their attention back to where they thought the sniper was last. "Uh oh," was all Hunter mumbled. "Maybe I'll get lucky and the sniper will get me."

"What did you say?" both women shouted at him.

"Nothin!" Hunter yelled back as he shrugged, and noticed that both women still had a hand each on his shoulder, while their free hand clutched a weapon. "Bugger me runnin!"

[Antaeus]

Jagdus Dashor cursed his luck as he dropped back behind the stout tree, long rifle help upright in his hand. The shouts from the gardens below carried up to him as his hand reached for the ejection level of the clip. It still had plenty of shots left - but it looked like he was going to need some more insurance to make this shot. The blocky las cartridge fell from, the weapon, and the dark-clad assassin removed a silver shell, tipped with bronze from his belt. He raised the executioner round to his lips, looking into the eyes of the Imperial winged skull that emblazoned the round.

‘In defens Imperator, Shadowwalker, thou shalt be his servant.’ he whispered to himself.

He placed the single round in the magazine.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

‘Where the flak did those shots come from?’

Haeric Actaon crouched behind one of the fallen marble pillars of the garden, the sun beating down upon his exposed neck. His hell gun, adorned with ribbon, was slung over his shoulder.

‘Didn’t see anything, Sarge, no contact.’ came Rexus’ voice over the commnet. The Jaeger was one of several stationed along the balconies of the towering white house that overlooked the ornamental garden, casting its long shadow towards the now disrupted proceeding.

‘Phenn! Dwynan! Try and find the flakker!’

‘We’re already on it, Sarge, but we didn’t see the shots.’ The Jaegers snipers’ weapons were raised, scanning for any signs of movement.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘In defens Imperator, thou shalt do his bidding.’

Jagdus swung the weapon around the side of the tree, and gazed into the scope. The bastard Hunter had dropped…he trained the sights over where his quarry had been.

There! He had risen, two soldiers by his side, all three’s weapons trying to draw a bead on him.

He lined the weapon on the General’s eye.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Haeric turned to see Hunter, a Vednekian soldier and a Carolonian bodyguard rise, weapons readied.

‘General! Get down!’

‘Hidin’ ain’t gonna help me, Sergeant.’

‘Stay behind me, sir!’ Corporal Chris Wegman, a Carolonian Veteran, stood by his leader’s side, his lasgun’s sight sweeping the trees and the sides of the house.

‘Chris, if you kill him before I do…’

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘In defens Imperator’

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘Look to the trees!’ The Space Wolf on the ground, smoke rising from his partly severed leg, growled at the soldiers milling around, confused, trying to target the attacker. The snipers’ scopes swung around, scouring the treeline.

----------------------------------------------------

‘Thou.’

------------------------------------------------------

Fishborne and Strife’s weapons were raised, ornamental uniforms discarded. They crouched behind the corners of the wooden stage.

‘Hoots, get over here! Move!’

The General moved backwards, his storm bolter pointing towards the trees. Wegman held back, crouching, peering through the scope of the weapon held in shaking hands.

----------------------------------------------------

‘Shalt.’

------------------------------------------

The world through Wegman’s scope was a mass of green, no movement, nothing. Nothing to distinguish…

The black barrel of a rifle. Pointng straight towards Hunter.

Wegman hurled himself into the air.

---------------------------------------------

‘Kill.’

Jagdus Dashor pulled the trigger.

[Tanith Ghost]

"Ohmigosh! General, are you hurt?" Rebecca asked, realng he wasn't.
"I'm staying here til the bad guys are dead sir." She indicated her unwillingness to leave Hunter. "My squad is ready to help secure."
A squad of carapace armored Vednikans shoved their way toward the stage.
"General, Colonel Dark just gave us orders. We're you're new bodyguard until all shooters are found."


ooc//More soon.

[Antaeus]

The executioner shell screamed through the air on a thin tail of white fire, straight towards the centre of General Hunter’s chest. The General moved backwards as he saw the muzzle flash of Jagdus‘ rifle, but the shell adjusted its course by a few degrees.

Straight into the throat of Corporal Chris Wegman. The mass-reactive round detonated, spraying gore in all directions. Wegman hit the floor, his neck, lower head and upper torso a bloodied ruin.

Jagdus’ roar of anguish echoed through the gardens.

--------------------------------------

‘Target! Target!’

Dwynan levelled his long las at the source of the flash, picking out the shooter, and fired. Jagdus jerked backwards as the red lasbolt shot past him, bringing him to his senses. He stood up, slinging the rifle over his back, and ran for the edge of the treeline towards the house.

Hellgun rounds spat towards him, then lasgun shots as other troops joined in the attempts to take him down. He reached the edge of the treeline. Running, he looked to his left, seeing a Vednekian soldier levelling his lasgun at him. The trooper fired, Jagdus swaying out the way of the shots as he drew his bolt pistol. Still running, he fired off three shots, two missing his target, the third tearing through the soldier’s flak jacket and detonating in his left side.

He leapt, and dug his hands into the wall of the house, and started to climb like a spider, hauling himself up the wall. The pursuing troops stopped, stairng in amazement.

‘What the hell…’

Alec Deleon shook his head. ‘Fire!’ He and the five Wildcards by his side poured lasbolts at the climbing assassin. Jagdus swayed this way and that as he climbed, red beams slamming into the walls, splintering masonry and melting the white paint. One passed through his black cloak and out the other side.

He reached the top, bending backwards as a sniper shot passed through the space his head had occupied half a heartbeat before.

Alec Deleon just looked at the lasgun in his hand.

‘Alec! Move!’ Colonel Fishborne yelled, as he and Wolke Strife ran past him, the two officers slamming fresh clips into their pistols as they headed for the front doors of the house.

---------------------------------------------

Jagdus ran along the balcony, pistol drawn. As he passed a window, his head jerked left as his peripheral vision caught movement. A soldier in dark carapace armour was levelling a hell gun at him. He threw himself into a forward role as the Jaeger opened fire, streaks of red energy shattering the window, blasting the wooden frame apart and sending glass spitting over the assassin’s head. Head ducked, Jagdus continued to sprint as he heard shouts from inside. He had to get around the side of the house and down, and then head for the mountains.

He turned, and found himself facing another two Jaegers.

‘Halt!’ shouted Corporal Moxiter, weapon raised.

He kept coming. The elite soldiers opened fire. He ducked to his left, a burst passing his head, then hurled himself into a long somersault to avoid being bisected by a second volley of high-energy lasfire. He landed, swaying twice to avoid shots, then leapt. Trooper Gallas swung his hell gun at the advancing assassin, but Jagdus grabbed his wrist. Gallas twisted but the lean assailant’s application of pressure was too precise, moving in and swinging him around, elbow around his throat. Jagdus’ right arm raised, and with a high-pitched shlink slim blades shot our of his armoured gauntlets. As Moxiter advanced, trying to get a clear shot, Jagdus buried the blade gauntlet in the gap underneath his armpit, tearing through tunic, flesh and bone. Gallas screamed in pain. Jagdus hurled the critically wounded soldier at Moxiter, the heavy, armoured body clattering into him and pushing him to the floor. Then he turned, and fled, charging round another turn as Moxiter’s hell gun burst tore chunks out of the wall.

He ran up a flight of stairs, hearing shouts and the clatter of boots from below. He ran, throwing himself over the bannister rail and almost running straight into two Makian soldiers, their lasguns raised. He swayed aside, grabbing the nearest one’s lasgun and throwing it behind him in one movement. His left elbow encircled the neck of the second, and he repeated his previous manoeuvre, driving the blade gauntlet into the man’s flank. The first swung a punch, Jagdus blocking, and delivering a flying kick to his chin, throwing him off his feet and back down the stairs, tripping up three Vednekian soldiers as they made their way up. Two more ran over their fallen comrades, followed by Commissar Joseph, and Colonels Fishborne and Strife.

The first Vednekian exploded as three bolter shells blew his chest apart. The second ducked back behind the thick bannister top as two more shots were aimed at him. The soldier poked his lasgun around and fired, causing Jagdus to move backwards. The Vednekian charged up the last step and towards the assassin, levelling his bayonet at him. The assassin caught the bayonet between the blades of his gaultlets, using the Vednekian’s momentum to twist as he leapt into the air. The other set of blades were pluned into the soldier’s throat. Blood erupted from the wound, and the soldier dropped as Josef, Fishborne and Strife turned the corner. Jagdus fled, bolter rounds fizzing past him as he ran along the corridor, the three officers in hot pursuit - and almost running straight into Colonel Dren Dark. Jagdus swivelled back the way he came - but while he had got ahead of the three officers, they were charging down the corridor towards him.

Dark attacked swinging his power sword - Jagdus swayed backwards, the humming blade passing his chest. He could hear the other three approaching: they had abandoned their ranged weapons for fear of hitting Dark, but the assassin realised he was about to have to fight four opponents at once. He parried a second strike from the young Vednekian officer as Josef reached him: he dropped prone as the Commissar’s horizontal swipe sang through the air. He pushed himself back to his feet, blocking Joseph’s fast remise with his gauntlet blade and twisting as a straight thrust from Dark’s sword came at him. Another upward, horizontal strike from Joseph had him dodging - this one was good. Very good. He turned to face Dark as the young Vednekian officer struck again, aiming for his exposed flank, His left gauntlet intercepted the sword, entangling it between the primary blades and the cross-like metal piece on the top, locking it in place. He wrenched the fine sword from the man’s grasp and hurled it backwards over his head, narrowly missing Strife as the Colonel ducked to avoid it. One down - to a degree - but Dark was pushed out of the way by Fishborne, seeing that his compatriot was disarmed. Another power sword: Jagdus blocked the blow with his right gauntlet, his left arm reaching over his shoulder to parry Joseph’s attempt to skewer him in the back.

He had to get out of here. Fishborne struck again, and Jagdus ducked underneath the strike, tensed, and dived straight through a window. Glass was strewn in all directions as the assassin plunged inside the house. Instantly he was on his feet, heading for a white marble staircase. Strife pushed his bolter through the broken window and opened fire, pouring shots after the retreating assassin. A gargoyle exploded, shards pelting the assassin’s scarred and tattooed face.

Jagdus reached the top of the staircase, heading left. He was almost there. At the end of the next landing there would be a window - from there he could jump to the ground, and run towards the mountains. There, he would plot his vengeance against the traitor, the snake at the heart of the Emperor’s armies.

He turned. And once again, he was not alone.

‘Halt. Traitor.’

Captain Janmar Malvolius, 51st Antarean Grenadiers, was levelling his bolt pistol at him.

‘This is unwise, Captain.’ Jagdus walked slowly towards the Antarean officer.

‘Halt. Or I will shoot.’

‘You call me a traitor, Captain, when it is you who serves the traitor.’ He continued to walk slowly towards the officer. He sighed. ‘You’re really not going to move, are you?’

Malvolius shook his head. ‘No. I am not.’

‘A shame. We had barely got to know each other.’ Jagdus shook his head sadly. ‘You have good men here. All of you do. But you are deluded. Deluded into thinking that the man you fight under is of the Emperor. That he is a loyal servant of Him on Terra.’

‘Loyalty is a many faceted thing in the Imperium, assassin.’

‘Aye, that it is. We serve cross purposes for the greed of men who seek to corrupt our destiny.’

‘But what if it is you who is wrong, assassin?’ Malvolius’ voice was steady, though the pistol shook in his hand.

‘I?’ Jagdus laughed. ‘I drank with him, Captain. The man you call your leader and whom I once called a friend. I talked with him, we drank in his quarters.’ The eyes darkened above the scarred cheek, the Aquila tattoo on the other twisting as the assassin’s face contorted.

‘And then? He had me killed. Me, and all of my kind.’

‘Perhaps you are the deluded one. Believing that your actions are service, not the murder of the Emperor’s soldiers. I am His servant, assassin, I fight in His name, to defend His Imperium.’ He licked his upper lip, his throat dry. ‘What of you, assassin. To what shade of loyalty do you belong?’

Jagdus opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the sound of boots on the stairs below, the clatter of weapons, the shout of orders. There had to be an army coming towards them.

‘I fear it will have to wait.’

‘I don’t fear that it would have changed anything.’ Malvolius’ jaw clenched, the young Antarean officer holding the bolt pistol in two hands. ‘You have trespassed against the Emperor.’ The pistol raised slightly. ‘And for that trespass, I now execute you.’

‘Then bear in mind one thing, Captain.’ Jagdus’ eyes met that of Malvolius one final time.

‘You brought this on yourself.’

The assassin leapt. The bolter fired.

[Tsavong Lah]

A single bolt round blasted through the air and passed the corkscrewing form of Jagdus just as Malvolius’ arm separated at the elbow as warrior’s blade sliced through flesh and bone. The veteran soldier had no time to neither grasp the blood spewing stump nor scream before the assassin’s blade tore throw his neck. Malvolius’ body slumped to the floor but Jagdus did not stand there and gloat. Using the acrobatic skills he was renowned for, he leapt out of the window and landed gracefully onto the grass.

And then he hesitated.

Standing before the would-be murderer was the hulking, battle scarred, and immensely powerful frame of Lord Elzanti, Chief Librarian of the Deltamarines. Pure psychic power emanated from the warrior, illuminating his body and charging the air. He held a mighty and engraved sword in his right hand, his left surrounded by swirling currents of electrical power.

“I will not waste time trying to intimidate you by speaking about my prowess,” he said, his eyes flaring with energy as he readied for battle.

“Then lets end this,” said Jagdus. “I have little time to waste so you’ll have to forgive me for making this short.” He then immediately launched into a flurry of attacks.

Elzanti just smiled as he effortlessly parried each blow, his sword showering cascading sparks as he deflected did so. Jagdus growled in frustration and attacked with added furry only to have his efforts thrown aside as easily as before. Had he known what the Librarian’s true strengths were, had he been able to see what Elzanti saw a second before each attack, he would have known to flee before the fight had begun. But he didn’t.

They broke contact for a few seconds. Jagdus tried to size up his opponent, looking for any weakness or avenue to exploit, while the venerable Librarian just stood there as he had before. He decided that it was all or nothing at this point, his need for escape overriding all other considerations.

He fired all remaining rounds he had from his bolt pistol, each shot disintegrating on the master crafted power armor, and charged the warrior. He leapt into the air, his arms and legs a flurry of attacks that even the most experienced warrior would find impossible to stop. But still Elzanti was unphased, as Jagdus had planned.

Though he did no damage to the Librarian, his aerial attack had guided him over the warrior’s position, giving him a free opening to run once he landed. He ran with all his strength, the Space Marine made no move to follow him.

A few minutes later an odd assortment of guardsmen rushed onto the scene, led by Colonel Fishborne.

“What the hell!” he exclaimed.
“Do not worry Colonel,” said Elzanti. “The few moments we fought changed future events more than you could possible understand.”

“What future events?” asked Fishborne.

“If that poor deceived soul had escaped at the time he had planned, his path would lead him to successful killing General Hunter on his next attempt,” said the Chief Librarian. “But now things will be much different.”

“Why not just kill him?” asked Fishborne.

“Every creature deserves a chance at salvation,” said Elzanti.

[Tanith Ghost]

"What the frag is going on in there?! Sombody answer!" Commisar Victor Kreig bellowed with all his considerable might into the vox set. "Men down, repeat, men down! Shots fired!" The traffic told him something was going down bad.
"Sir, Haran here. Some kechead just took a shot on General Hunter. Only missed because Becky though it would be fun to give our fearless leader a more personal thanks than a handshake." "So where the hell is the Colonel?!"
Victor roared. "Went after the assasin sir. Him and a few of the men from our squad. No word yet, but multiple shots fired, possibility of men down."
"And what, may I ask, is your seargent up to?" Victor was afraid the answer before Haran answered. "With the General sir. Guarding him closely." "I'll bet. May as well leave her in place. Find out who bought it, and how many hostiles are in the area." Victor called on Daur next. "Secure the perimeter.
Get everyone you can to help. Some bastard tried to murder the General."

"Sir, Dren-Colonel Dark, went after that guy who tried to kill you. Are you sure you're ok? Do you need help getting up?" Rebecca killed the flirtacious tone, realizing Faith might take offense at her being overly warm toward Hunter. "Sir, perimeter is locked. The assasin is going nowhere fast."
Captain Daur said, grimly. "Word so far is over a half dozen men from my platoon dead or wounded, and Rebecca lost two more men." Rebecca barely held a choked sob in check. "I hope they kill him." She said, harsh tone at odds with the greif on her face. "I hope they kill him dead." A single tear meandered down her cheek. "They'll avenge my boys, won't they General?"

Dren Dark supressed a curse, finding his vox bead smashed. "Thanks Dutch."
He muttered. "Victor is probably going spare. Shots fired in the vicinity of command personel? He's hit the roof for sure."

[Firstandonly14]

Smiling with cold confidence, Daarin stood up from his spot at the head of the table. His assembled staff and Hagrian officers sat at their seats, their conversations immediately forgotten. To Daarin's right, sat the ever elegant Mordriena, with the golden bells shining bright in the darkly lit room. Slowly Daarin raised his glass in salute. "Tonight, we drink to our victory, for tomorrow Obliek is scheduled to surrender his armies to our cause. If the Makian's surrender, surely the coalition will fall." There was boisterous applause around the table." Mordriena's flashed lovingly at Daarin, who caught her look and grinned. "Soon my brothers, we march on. The Jahamel sector will be ours." Again, applause filled the room. Captain Roshcel was giddy beyond believe, his usual somber face hidden behind his dimples. The assembled commissars and other military authorities seemed pleased. Most of the Hagrian officers appeared to be accepting their role in the upcoming stages. This pleased Daarin greatly. With any luck, all the Jahamel worlds would be like Hagra III in their dedication.

The twin glass doors opened as Arthis Lloyd entered. The golden haired commissar seemed to be in a great hurry. Daarin glared at him, his anger rising. "It is good to see that you decided to join us Lloyd I was beginning to think that you got lost."

Arthis froze in his tracks, his usual bright face pale and clammy. "My lord," he bowed, "I must speak with you in private." Mordriena turned to face Arthis, her cold eyes piercing his. Arthis caught her condemning glance and looked back down at the ground. "Immediately sir."

"What is it Arthis?" Daarin whispered angrily, "I am in the middle of dinner. One that you carelessly did not join on time."

"My lord I do not think it is wise to..." Arthis began lifting his eyes off the marble floor. Daarin pushed his chair back, the wooden legs screeched against the marble floor.

"This had better be damn important or I will see to it that you face the firing squad. Speak now."

"Obliek has sent his response sir," Arthis gasped in surprise. The room was silent. The assembled officers looked at each other and back at Arthis. "My lord they will not surrender..."

Daarin closed his eyes tightly, his hands shaking wildly. Without a word, Daarin threw his wine glass against the ground, the glass shattering against the cold floor. "They will not surrender?" he laughed hysterically. His laughter cut off in a barbaric yell, "I will give no quarter!" He kicked his chair over, splintering the fine wood with the heel of his boot.

"Sir, there is more," Arthis hurried on, "Obliek and his armies are already invading Makia, they have taken the Western banks of Artoic. They landed there not three days ago."

"Why was I not aware of this!" Mordriena hissed as she took a step forward toward the startled commissar. "Why did I not receive some form of a report?" Daarin went off to a side of the room, his hands slowly moving through his short black hair.

"Milady, there were no reports because there were no survivors! Somehow they were able to get word to the Makian rebels to clear a landing zone through our planetary blockade. They broke through without so much as a fight until they reached the ground. We were hopelessly outnumbered. Obliek and his men are marching East as we speak."

Mordriena smothered in her anger silently, her cold eyes never leaving the commissar. Arthis turned his attention back to Daarin. "Sir, there is more news. Hive Paradion on Thymos is under loyalist control."

Whirling around, Daarin knocked over the marble statue of a Hagrian noble. "They what?"

"They killed Jaquel, and have taken control of the Hive," Daarin walked over to the table, his dark eyes burning with rage. He grabbed a knife from Roshcel's plate and brought it in a sweeping ark at Arthis' neck.

Mordriena was quicker than her lover and grabbed his hand. "We need him!" she whispered coolly. "Listen, this is not the time to get emotional." Daarin nodded and let the knife fall. His face slowly began to get its normal color as his rage began to subside.

"What would you like to do to the Thyians?" Arthis asked. "Sir, I know the hive like the back of my hand, let me go and direct a campaign to reclaim the hive."

"No Arthis, I need you here... for now," Mordriena turned to the commissar. "Although you failed at Kaffing Prime, you are still one of the best we have. I am not willing to lose you to a simple uprising." She turned back to Daarin and took him by the hand. "I have an idea that you might like my dear."

"Enlighten then," Daarin replied bitterly.

"What if," she whispered in his ear, as she kissed him gently on the cheek, "we destroy the entire hive."

Arthis was about to protest when her cold eyes shot back at him.

"Daarin, let's make an example of the hivers, make them an example for the whole sector!" Her regal voice carried through the entire room, filling the ear of every man. "I know we have a duo of Titans stationed on Thymos, and a dozen baneblades, they will not be able to stop the combined forces of Titans and baneblades. We can even send an armored company in if need be."

"You are suggesting mass murder," Daarin whispered, his voice soft, "there are over four billion living in the hive."

"No, I am thinking about putting down a rebellion for the brotherhood. For us."

Whatever doubt Daarin had shrunk as he slowly began to grin. "Arthis, send orders to Jumes to order the attack."

[Hooter Hunter]

Hunter rose up and shook away any helping hands that were offered to him. "Gotta say I didnt see that comin when I got up this mornin," he tried to joke but saw that every one around him was dead serious.

"Sir we need to move you to a safe location," a Jaeger said as he panned his hellgun around in an alert state.

"Nah," Hunter sighed, "aint no need fer that. The buggers gone or dead by now and he wont try to hit me again fer a while."

"Sir I insist," the Jaeger stated firmly. "If something happens to you then Captain Malvolius will have my head on a platter." The trooper hadnt yet heard that his commander was dead.

"Very well lead on," Hunter gave in. "I suppose my quarters will be as good a prison as any." Hunter began to walk in the general direction and was immediately circled by a ring of troopers from the varying regiments.

Upon arrival at his room Hunter began to enter butr was held back while several troopers entered first and made sure his rooms were clear and safe. "All clear sir," Rebecca reported as she opened the door for Hunter. He entered and did something unusual for him. He poured himself a drink and knocked it back very quickly followed by another and then a third.

Outside Master Sgt Rebecca Galleron settled in to guard the General. "I'll take first watch," she said to the Jaeger who had convinced Hunter to leave the gardens.

"I'll take care of the perimeter," the Jaeger nodded and set off posting guards down the hall.

Rebecca smiled as she saw Makians, Carolonians, Highlanders, Sojourners, and the odd Vostroyian posted through out the hall. It truly represented the Flyin Circus and its loyalty to their leader. Thinking of Hunter she smiled even wider, he certainly is a good kisser.

"What makes you so sure he wont try again?" Faith demanded.

"Two things," Hunter replied. "One he's a prfessional and knows that security will be even higher than ever, thus makin his job that much harder. Second, it aint his way. He's a patient one and will wait as long as he has to to kill me, and on his terms."

"You know him?" Faith asked shocked. "Who is he?"

"He is my biggest failure, my greatest mistake, my most horrible sin." Hunters eyes took on the look of a man who was seeing something far away, and not those around him. Sighing he took a seat on the couch that was closest to hi m at the moment and looked Faith in the eyes to begin his story. "It began on Cassitor II I dont know how many years ago, seems like forever right now. We were operating to retake the world, and were given the help of a small but elite group called Shadow Walkers. Stealthiest gits I have ever seen. I used them on several occasions and even became somewhat friendly with their leader. Well they got to be to damned good. They would go in hit their target, and scare them so bad that we just walked in and took over."

Hunter paused to light a cigar. "The more we worked together the more we respected and even came to like each other, Jagdus and I. We began to coordinate strikes and were very successful, but as always happens the top brass got a lil jealous that we were winnin their glory. They called a meeting of everyone who had used the Shadow Stalkers and informed us that they had slaughtered an entire village and were suspected of being corrupted. They even had an Inquisitor to confirm this."

Hunter looked into his wifes eyes and she saw his pain, a side he had never shown her before. "Their world had been subjected to Exterminatus, or so we were told. I really aint sure that anyone knew where they were from. We were then told that all who were serving on that campaign had to be eliminated with extreme predjudice. The plan was to get them in one spot and then hit them with artillery and orbital strikes. We were gonna use everything from gass to incindiaries."

"Did you go along with this?" Faith whispered almost afraid to hear his reply.

"No," Hunter whipsered as softly. "But I did little other than yell and raise hell with the brass to stop it. I was relieved of command for my outburst and confined to quarters to prevent me from warning Jagdus." Hunter then started laughing an insane laugh that brought tears to his eyes and concern to Faith. "The damned fools thought they could keep Jagdus out. He slipped into my room and we had a drink. Wanted to know what I had finally done to get removed from command. So I told him that I had called the Lord General ad damned fool, which was true, and that his next plan was a pile of grox dung, also true."

Hunter looked Faith in the eyes one more time, this time she saw something in them that she had never thought lurked in her husband. Guilt! "I had Jagdus Dashor in my quarters. My friend. My ally. My comrade. I could have warned him. Should have warned him. But I drank with him and let him go to his death, to the death of his people. In that one moment of my life I was a coward. And because of my actions, or lack therof on that day the blood of the men who died to protect me this day is on my hands." Hunter rose and poured himself another drink.

[Tanith Ghost]

Rebecca 's grief for her mudered squad members would be a long time with her.
But the glee of planting a wet one on the General himself, and even flirting with him bouyed her considerably. "Platoon two HQ, Galleron here." "Lt. Wilson here, go ahead." "Hey Jen, guess what?" "Seargent-" "Master Sergent now." Rebecca smirked. "I can bust you right back. What is it?" "I saved General Hunter's life.
By kissing him." "What?!" Shock, envy, and outrage waged a three way war in Jen's tone. "Yep.You heard right. I pulled him into a smacker and the assasin missed his only shot." "Dren is going to kill you. Or Victor will." "Oh hush. You're just mad you didn't get a medal or a prsonal talk with the top Brass." Rebecca was flippant. She'd never been so gleeful. "Why you- You fresmouth tart! Don't make me come over there!" "Why don't you? I'm General Hunter's personal bodyguard. Meaning I only anser to him for now." Rebecca added a raspberry. Jen hissed and fumed. "Just you wait- you won't be his hero of the hour forever." "Oh, General....did you want another cigar?" Rebecca asked, sounding innocent as could be as she knocked gently on the door. Jen shut the vox, fuming.