Three years ago...
 
Private Strongleaf was a brave soldier.
 
She knew that the odds of her surviving her tour of duty in the Imperial Guard were slim, but that didn't stop the young ratling from taking her aging fathers place when the draft came. Despite knowing that the carefree days in her peaceful agri world would come to an end, Despite knowing that she would be sent away, never to return, to face the horrible enemies of an Empire that considered her people to be little more than vermin, Despite all this she still chose to join the ranks of the Imperial Guard.
 
She had been serving with the men and women of the Cadian 327th regiment for about two years now. And after the months of gruelling training that seamlessly transitioned into live field duty. Not once did she forget the promise that she made to herself when she filled in the draft forms at the age of eighteen. She promised herself that she would not give up, she made a vow to live to see retirement and Emperor willing, possibly find a way to return to her home world.
 
She would later admit to herself that she was afraid at first, Overwhelmed by the harsh expectations of her instructors and superiors. Intimidated by the challenges in and out of the battlefield. On the field of battle she feared the multitude of ways that could end her life that the xenos and traitors had at their disposal. Off the battlefield she faced the scrutiny and distrust of her human peers, worried that they might deem it better after all, to have one less mutant in the Imperium than tolerate her as a comrade.
 
But still she pushed on, her determination to survive, tempered by the engines of Imperium and the forge of war, was soon refined into a desire to prosper. No longer satisfied in merely surviving, she strove to conquer the disadvantages that being an abhuman presented and earned their trust. On the battlefield, her skill with the sniper rifle proved invaluable support that changed the tides of battle. Off the battlefield, her talent for cookery made the bleak lives of her comrades just the least bit better. Her efforts proved to be worth while, for her contributions were not left unnoticed, and soon enough she found herself regarded as a valuable member in the eyes of her comrades and officers alike.
 
Just when she thought she had conquered her fears, just when she thought that she had grown accustomed to the rigours of the combat and the constantly changing theatres of war. Just when she thought that she was no longer 'green' as her seniors would call her. Just when she thought that the days of uncertainty had come to an end, did this familiar feeling return to the pit of her stomach. It had been over a year since she had felt this touch of cold emptiness, but there was no denying it.
 
Private Strongleaf was afraid...
 
Their current campaign was already considered to be coming to an end, its major battles already fought and won. The combined might of two Imperial Guard regiments backed by the Planetary Defense force left the Ork menace out gunned and on the run. Their current mission was to reclaim city 76, one of first cities to fall when the orks made contact. They were to rendezvous with a PDF detachment and join up with the other regiment before continuing on with the operation.
 
This was where her unit was ambushed by the greenskins. It was no ones fault really, the route was supposed to already have been under PDF control. They were briefed not to expected to run into any resistance until they moved into the inner city, which was still many clicks away.
 
They lost their first chimera to mines, probably looted from the missing PDF detachment that they were supposed to rendezvous with. Another pair soon followed, disabled by a barrage of rockets shortly after. The remainder of their Armored transports managed to scramble into a defensive formation, allowing a its passengers to safely disembark in an attempt to repel the enemy. But it was too late, she thought to herself, the jaws of the enemy were already closing upon them.
 
They were at a severe disadvantage, surrounded by Emperor knows how many green skins, dazed from the sheer concussive force of rockets exploding around them and pinned down by enfilading fire, They held out as best as they could, minimizing their losses as they braced for the inevitable xenos warcry that signalled an incoming charge.
 
And just as quickly as the ambush started, came the familiar crack of las fire shortly followed by the sound exploding frag grenades. They heard the grunts and screams of the xenos as they were cut down. The sudden shift in advantage gave her unit the opportunity to break from cover and provide their own contribution of xenos kills. with her managing to eliminate a few of the more heavily armed orks that were suppressing them with heavy stubbers.
 
The silhouettes of humanoid figures emerged from the smoke, clad in black greatcoats and marching in a broad formation as they approached her unit. She would hear the distinctive gargle of orkish death throes as a few of the figures wordlessly broke formation to bayonet the incapacitated xenos.
 
Still not convinced that they were among allies, She raised her weapon and put one of the figures in front of her scope.
 
"Stand down private" said her Sergeant.
 
"These are guardsmen, just like us." She couldn't help but notice the scorn in her Sergeants voice when she heard him say 'guardsmen', but yes, it was true enough that their masked saviours, with faces concealed behind rebreathers, some of them reinforced by metal face plates fashioned to resemble the human skull, did indeed bear the Imperial Aquilla on their helmets.
 
Some of her squad mates began to whisper with each other, holding discreet conversations amongst themselves, phrases muttered under their breaths. As the shrouded figures walked past them, Seemingly more interested in sweeping the area of xenos survivors rather than their Cadian allies. Her sharp ratling senses unintentionally eavesdropped on her comrades hushed exchanges. Of all their quiet discussions 'Death Korps' was the most common phrase uttered.
 
Only when they were certain that the area was clear of hostiles did a small group approach them. "Who is the highest ranking officer present here?" Said the looming figure.
 
"I am Major Two Eighty Seven Gamma, Officer of Gamma company of the 287th Death Korps Infantry Regiment, Assault Brigade" said the officer, after the Cadian Lieutenant introduced himself.
 
Private Strongleaf watched as each side's command squad conversed with one another, She felt empathic unease from the rest of the Cadians, as they witnessed the gloomy soldiers in the background, wordlessly going about their business of bayoneting orks before dragging them away to be thrown into the burning pile. She would soon find out why she was summoned to join the meeting.
 
Apparently the sectors vox tower was destroyed during an enemy raid, which meant that both units were cut off and unable to transmit at long range. And while the route towards the nearest outpost followed the road leading away from the city. The remainder of the city still held pockets of xenos resistance needed to be purged before they could regroup, this predicament, although not dire, required the full attention of all Krieg forces and then some. With most of their Chimeras totalled, and the Death Korps unable to spare any of their own transports. It was agreed upon by both sides that the best course of action was to send one, maybe two soldiers at most, to travel to said outpost on foot to make a report on the current situation, while the remainder of the Cadians proceeded with their mission and joined up with the Death Korps in their operation to eradicate the remainder of the xenos resistance.
 
This was the reason for her inclusion, being the best scout in their unit meant that she was the most qualified of their ranks to carry out this assignment. Her Sergeant was about to make his recommendation on which of their unit would be best suited to join her on the three day long trek towards the outpost when the Krieg Major spoke up.
 
"We are unable to spare any transportation" He began "But we are willing to provide one of our grenadiers to accompany your messenger." The Major turned to one of the Krieg officers, a Lieutenant judigng from his shoulder flashes, who nodded at the Major and placed two of his fingers to the side of his head. The jaw of his face mask moved, but made no sound, probably sub vocalizing over the local frequency with the use of a comm-bead. She thought, Moments later, they were soon joined by another of the krieg ranks.
 
"Trooper Eleven Forty Six Reporting" The soldier saluted, Hellgun slung behind him.
 
At first she thought that it was another ratling, but her assumptions were immediately dissipated when she had a closer look. Its proportions were all wrong, it was a little too tall and lacked the distinctive stocky build that all ratlings had, take all those factors and add the sound of his voice, muffled as it may have been by rebreather, and it was painfully clear just what they were looking at.
 
The Cadian officers must have also made the same observation because they too, stared blankly at the new arrival. Apparently there were some sights that would bring pause even to the veteran members of the Cadian Shock troops.
 
The Krieg Major interpreted the silence differently. He nodded briefly at the newcomer before gesturing toward Strongleaf and her Sergeant. "If there will be nothing else to discuss" He began, once again the first to break the silence. "then we shall be adjourning this meeting. Please have your men prepared to move out in an hours time. A few of our centaurs will be arriving shortly to tow your damaged vehicles." And with that, the Death Korps command squad unceremoniously returned to their ranks.
 
Her Sergeant somehow managed to leave her new companion with the rest of their squad as he took her aside.
 
"Listen Private" He said, taking a moment to make sure that they were no longer within earshot of the Krieg.
 
"If things turn bad out there, if you run into any hostiles, any hostiles at all, and the situation starts to go south, I want you to cut it and run, do you understand? I want you to leave their soldier behind and push forward."
 
"But-But, you cant be serious..." She protested, the distinctive Rise and fall of her pitch combined with the differently intoned vowels and consonants lent a lyrical quality of her accent.
 
"I-I mean he's just a weeun, I cannot just leave him behind if-" She said, trying to argue, unable to believe that such an order could come from her Sergeant, A veteran who has seen a decade of service, known for being stoic in the face of danger, a man that could have long risen up the ranks of the guard had he chosen to value prestige rather than the lives of the men that served under him. His usually stoic expression suddenly twisted into a look of frustrated resentment and cut her off.
 
"Frak that Daisy, Thats an God-Emperor Damned Blackshield you just saw back there! I've seen the reports. I knew the Death korps would go too far one day, but this is too much." Her Sergeant took a moment to compose himself before returning to his usual tone.
 
"Just Promise me that you'll be careful out there" He said, his voice still held a trace of his recent outburst. She let out a small sigh, she knew her Sergeant only referred to her by her first name whenever he was deeply worried.
 
"I'll be careful." She replied. Knowing how the aging man saw her. Her older comrades already told her how she reminded him of the daughter that he left behind, after he too, had been taken by the draft.  
 
They walked back to her squad, The Krieg soldier was still standing at attention in the same spot where her sergeant instructed him to wait. She noted the way her squad mates behaved, most of them kept their distance, all of them were watching him. Their eyes transfixed with a look of distrustful contempt. She didn't know why, but she somehow thought that this situation felt eerily familiar for some reason.
 
"Are you prepared to depart?" Said the soldier as it noticed their approach.
 
They both looked at the soldier before turning back to each other. Her Sergeant shook his head without saying a word. It was obvious that they were thinking the same thing. Despite the armored mask that concealed his face and obscured his voice, it was easy to see that this soldier couldn't be older than ten.
 
"What was your name again, son?" Her Sergeant asked the soldier as the rest of her squad watched in silence.
 
The Soldier regarded him briefly before responding. Daisy wished she could use a different word, but it was hard to call it as 'look' when even his eyes were concealed by the thick black lenses of his mask.  
 
"Serial number 287-6410-623-1-1146, Field designation: 'Eleven Forty Six'." It responded, dictating the numbers clearly and with little room for misinterpretation as if it had expected the Cadians to write it down.
 
"Well, Eleven Forty Six" Her Sergeant began "I want you to take care of our soldier, alright?"
 
"This Trooper will take every effort to ensure its assignments completion." The soldier replied non-committally, His attention then shifted towards Daisy and he spoke, in a voice that an optimist might consider phlegmatic, while the realist would make the observation that it was eerily similar to the monotone voice of a servitor and said...  
 
"It is recommended that we move" The soldier repeated.
 
The soldiers voice quickly snapped her out of her recollections. She felt a wave of self consciousness flow through her as she realized that she had been zoning out. It had probably been a minute ago since she deemed the route clear of any potential threats, but the familiar feeling of magnoculars in her hands and an open path beneath her feet has made her complacent.
 
"All clear" She said, stowing her magnoculars back to her pack, feigning nonchalance as the soldier regarded her before nodding. Feeling a little embarrassed at taking a little longer than necessary. She walked ahead, taking the lead. She put a close eye on their surroundings, looking out for the telltale signs of traps and potential ambushes.
 
It had been half a day since she began her journey with the krieg soldier. The word 'Blackshield' echoed in her mind as she observed her companion. It was her Sergeants words, a term keyed by the Cadians from seeing these Krieg probitors in action, made to distinguish from their very own Whiteshields, a designation for the younger Cadian soldiers who served a similar role in their regiment. The Death Korps cared little for such titles and merely called their pitifully young, partially trained soldiers by the usual term 'Probitor' or 'Conscript'. These soldiers after proving their worth in combat, were eventually assimilated into the rank and file infantry and as such were eligible to for specialized roles if they displayed the requisite aptitudes. It had already been several years since the rumors of such soldiers began circulating in the ranks of the Astra Militarium, but she never would have guessed that they would be this young.  
 
By now, the rumors were already considered fact, And these Child soldiers, now veterans in their own right, having long since shed the shoulder flashes of a probitor, Were now considered full soldiers by the administrators of the Korps. Still, the label had already stuck. No longer a term for amateurs, Blackshield was now the term for these diminutive soldiers scattered across the many regiments of the Korps, children given the jobs that were meant for men. Even now there were rumors of squads, even platoons composed entirely of Blackshields.
 
This particular Blackshield was a Grenadier, and judging by the insignia on its shoulder plate, a veteran one at that. From what she heard, grenadiers were comprised of soldiers from decimated squads. Survivors of dangerous missions who were rewarded for their efforts by being assigned to even more dangerous ones.
 
This line of thinking brought a queasy feeling to her stomach. If the Death Korps cared so little about their own children's lives she reasoned, then how would they view an abhuman such as her?
 
As if the fear was bad enough, her imagination chose to join in and gave her visions of the possible outcome of her errand. She knew she had earned the trust of the Cadians but just how much did that mean to the krieg exactly?
 
And for the first time for more than a year, Private Daisy Strongleaf found herself feeling the most fear since she joined the guard.
 
Was the outpost manned solely by Krieg personnel?
 
Would her efforts for this assignment be rewarded by a las bolt between the eyes?
 
Was her companion given discreet instructions to dispose of her after she had served her purpose?
 
Would it be a swift peaceful execution or will it be a slow and gruesome death by bayonet like those orks experienced.
 
Memories of the way the ork gargled resurfaced as it was repeatedly bayoneted before being thrown into the fire.
 
She remembered seeing notches on some of the sword bayonets that were wielded by the ones disposing of the orks and imagined how it would feel going into her belly.  
 
She bit her fears back and remembered her promise to herself.
 
Live, she thought to herself, live through this mission and come back to your unit. No matter how desperate or seemingly impossible the odds were, there always existed the opportunity to improve her chances, she just needed to find the right variable.
 
After having accepted the reality of the situation, and surrendering herself to the apparent dangers, imagined or otherwise. She began thinking of ways to achieve this end. Just what available options did she have to improve her chances of survival?
 
She looked back to the soldier who kept in step with her, never deviating from the regulation distance of six feet, Enough of a gap to minimize the odds that both of them would not fall to the same burst, were they to find themselves fired upon.
 
"Say..." She called out to the soldier, Feigning the outgoing enthusiasm that most guardsmen found endearing.
 
"Do you ever take that mask off?" She continued, confident that her heightened ratling senses would detect any outsiders before they could be within earshot.
 
"If the situation warrants it" the trooper replied as he cleared an obstacle by vaulting past, seemingly unimpeded by the weight of his heavy carapace armor
 
'I'm in!' she thought to herself. Suppressing the urge to show any outward signs of surprise that the soldier would be willing to engage in casual conversation. Yes, This plan could work. She schemed. She would feign interest and make herself appear likeable to the soldier. Maybe, if she could humanize herself to this soldier, not be just another abhuman auxiliary, but an actual person, he might be willing to intervene on her behalf. It was a small shift in the odds she thought to herself. But she had nothing to lose and everything to gain if she could secure this ones trust.
 
"How about now?" She continued, Injecting a little affection into her intonation.  
 
"It is not necessary for the success of this operation." He replied brusquely, shifting out of his usual monotone, warning that the subject was not open for further discussion.
 
"Any Idea on how well our side is doing in this campaign?" She quickly changed the subject, abandoning the previous topic when it proved fruitless. But not without admitting to herself that she really was feeling a growing curiosity on what hid behind the mask.
 
"This trooper does not have that information." he replied. as if reciting from a script.
 
"Don't you have a real name?" She probed, still trying to find a handhold where she could establish rapport with the soldier.
 
"This Trooper's designation is Eleven Forty Six." He replied, with the same economy of speech as earlier.
 
"No, I meant, what are you called by the people who know you?" she began warming up to the way the soldier communicated.
 
"Eleven Forty Six" he replied bluntly.
 
"I mean, My name is Daisy Strongleaf. And my people call me 'Private Strongleaf' or just 'Daisy'..." She replied.
 
"This Trooper has no other designation other than its rank and serial number" He replied.
 
"Would you like one?" She replied again, allowing herself to be swayed by her curiosity.
 
"It is not necessary for the success of this operation." He repeated the same spiel.
 
"Oh..." She stopped briefly, starting to understand how the soldier- no, Eleven Forty Six's mind worked.
 
"Do you have any Idea if the Outpost has any Cadian personnel?" She tried to probe.
 
"This trooper does not have that information." he replied once again repeating the same spiel.
 
At this point she was starting to wonder if the Death Korps had voice procedure for every conceivable situation.
 
She continued her one sided conversation with Eleven Forty Six until she started to notice the ruins of the city begin to thin out the more they proceeded.
 
"Private Strongleaf" Eleven Forty Six called her attention. Halting, his march and beckoning for her to come close.
 
"Just Daisy will do" She replied, surprised at her companions willingness to speak without being prompted.
 
"It is almost Seventeen hundred hours, planetary time..." He began. Making her feel a little disappointed that the topic concerned their assignment, rather than a willingness to initiate personal conversation.
 
"The sun will set in another hour. And while this city has mechanisms in place to nullify this regions sudden shift in temperature..." He continued.
 
"The road ahead has no such mechanisms outside of the emergency vehicle stops scattered along the way. This trooper has assessed that there is insufficient time to reach the next shelter before the temperature drops to unmanageable conditions" He said, emphasizing the word 'unmanageable'.
 
"This Trooper recommends that we make camp for the night and continue our journey on first light." He finally finished.
 
"Best news I heard all day" She replied. In all honesty she was just about ready to pass out, already partially spent from the skirmish before they even started their trek.
 
And so they picked a defensible ruin to spend the night in and, after observing the necessary procedure of setting up a perimeter and putting screamers in place, retired for the night.
 
They both sat by the fire, Daisy, famished from the long day's exertions, immediately began to unpack her personal rations while the Trooper took a moment to examine his equipment, Stripping his weapon down while uttering the litany of the cleaning, and reassembling it within seconds.
 
"Thats a fine weapon." She commented, as she took a spoonful of food from her can.
 
"Type XIV Turbo-discharge Hellgun." The trooper responded, without looking up. As he inspected the couplings that linked into the energy pack on his back.
 
"I heard those were pretty unreliable." she replied, picking up the soldiers willingness to discuss weaponry at the very least.
 
"Correct." He replied, as he reverentially put the weapon down within easy reach. and reached for the contents of his backpack.
 
"But with proper maintenance..." To her curious delight, he continued without having to be prodded. "The weapon's failure rate becomes relatively negligible."
 
Daisy watched intently as Eleven Forty Six unpacked his rations. She had been waiting for this moment since her request to see his face was denied.
 
To her disappointment, The soldier merely loosened the straps on his rebreather and discreetly tucked the corpse starch ration bar underneath before beginning to chew.      
 
"Really?" She said, unable to believe what she was seeing.
 
She saw her face reflected back to her through the thick lenses of the troopers mask as he looked up to her, Wordlessly questioning her sudden outburst.
 
"You don't take that mask off even when you eat?" She sighed, gesturing towards the soldier.
 
"It is not necessary for the success of this operation." He replied, backsliding to Krieg voice procedure, which seemed to cover any questions regarding their faces.
 
"Isn't it uncomfortable to wear that mask all the time?" She said, for the first time, finding herself speaking for the sake of expressing herself rather than to furthering her own plans.
 
She starting to feel frustrated with the soldier, tired at the flat monotone of his voice, tired from the voice procedure that he constantly fled to, tired of his stiff body language, tired of the mask he hid behind. tired from the multitude of ways that he found to cover himself with, unwilling to give away the slightest hint. As if afraid that others knowing would put him at a disadvantage.  
 
"The time for individual happiness is over." The soldier replied in the same flat monotone that he had used earlier.
 
She wasn't sure if the effect was brought on by his slightly unmuffled voice, or if his phrase somehow revealed a hint of emotion. But she could not deny that she felt something upon hearing the soldiers reply.
 
She looked at the small figure that sat opposite to her, his profile framed by firelight and shadow, and she felt that she understood what she was looking at. It wasn't that the soldier did not want to share stories of his own. It was that he had nothing to share. He had no stories of his own, other than stories of conflict, and war. He could not reminisce his carefree childhood days because he had none. In fact he was still not done from living them.
 
How fitting, she thought to herself as she stared into the black lenses that did not shy away from her gaze.
How fitting, for humanity to forsake the very essence that distinguished it from the from the very enemy that it labored so hard to defeat.
 
'The time for individual happiness is over.' she repeated to herself as she regarded the soldier, who by virtue of the role he played in his army. Would probably not live to see reach her age.
 
She had made her decision.
 
She put aside her plans to manipulate the soldier into favoring her. As she began to talk. She spoke to him about her homeworld and the many wonders it held out to her as she grew up, told him of her family and the time they spent together. Told him of the adventures she had with her siblings, as they got in and out of trouble. Her hopes of one day retiring, after giving the God-Emperor his due, She told him of her dreams of returning to her home planet and reuniting with her family. The soldier remained quiet as she told him all this. He made no effort to respond, but not once did he break her gaze. She resolved to herself that if the soldier had no stories of his own, then she give him some of her own.
 
Conversing with the Krieg brought about the realization that it has been a while since she spent time just talking to another person. Maybe, she thought to herself, Maybe, by telling him all this, she was consoling herself rather than the soldier.
 
"You're a pretty good listener" She said, complimenting the Krieg.
 
"If the day comes that we ever beat the xenos, In the whole war I mean, not just this one..." she continued "Then I bet you could make a good pile of thrones just by listening to a lonely lass' troubles." She said, smiling softly with a look of melancholy in her face, pleasant memories of days past refreshed in her mind.
 
She was about to resume her stories when both she and the Krieg froze as instinct warned them of incoming danger. They spent a few seconds in silence, not moving lest they miss any noise. Their suspicions were confirmed when they heard the report of the screamers as their perimeter was breached.
 
"Orks?" she asked the krieg, surprised that they could get close enough to trigger the screamers without being registering on her ratling senses.
 
"Negative" Replied the krieg as he grabbed his weapon and took a firing stance, facing the direction of that was reportedly breached.
 
"Breach coming from the basement, no openings that could possibly accommodate an ork." He explained, weapon held at the ready.
 
She expected the gretchin to emerge from the passageway. But the guttural snarls and the slow wet slapping sounds were not orkish in nature. Mutants, she thought to herself. Possibly driven to the outskirts of the city by the Orks. She expected, two to three mutants at worst, but her expectations were quickly crushed when they made visual contact. There must have been dozens of them, they would later conclude that the mutants were drawn to their position by the heat of their fire, expecting to ambush them as they slep, planning to overwhelm them via sheer numerical advantage. It was by sheer luck that she chose this night to try and engage the soldier in conversation instead of taking an early night.
 
She looked toward their group, each mutant about six feet tall, heavyset, with grotesque limbs that ended in sharp claws, Much thinner than an orc but more imposing than a human, She expected those things' claws were capable of carving through an unarmored man. The mutants at the vanguard of their crowd growled and began to hobble towards them with misshapen legs before its head was vaporized by a superheated las bolt.
 
And so, she witnessed a Blackshield in combat.
 
The smell of ozone and cooked flesh quickly filled the room as the soldier unleashed a volley of las bolts towards the approaching mutant crowd. The soldier wasn't a particularly skilled marksman she observed, as one in every seven of his shots failed to connect to a malformed head, and instead hit a shoulder or even glance past. But what the soldier lacked in marksmanship, he made up for his composed and methodical shot placement. Always aiming for the closest mutant, and occasionally firing in such a way that the fallen mutant would impede its comrades movements whenever the opportunity presented itself. She expected that the outcome was a foregone conclusion when the improbable happened...
 
The rhythmic crackle of las fire suddenly halted and was replaced by the a weak whining sound before going silent. Misfire, she thought to herself. As the soldier calmly began the rites of unjamming without losing his composure. Grenadier combat doctrine instructed its soldiers to do this, with the expectation that the rest of the squad would provide suppressing fire while the weapon was cleared, and if all else failed, for the soldier to draw his bayonet and charge the enemy.
 
Mutants slowly began to surround them in an attempt to cut off their avenues of escape.    
 
Her self preservation instincts began to kick in as she remembered her Sergeants advice. 'Cut and run' his voice resounded in her consciousness, 'leave him behind' it continued. Yes, If she timed it properly, she could probably sneak past the mutants as they fell upon her comrade. She breathe hard as she continued rationalizing her selfish act of cowardice, as the mutants closed the gap, the stench of sewer water and chemical waste filling her nostrils.
 
'I must deliver the message' she thought 'If we both perish, then there would be nobody left to make the report.' She convinced herself.
 
She continued her internal struggle as the soldier ceased his attempts to clear his weapon, slung it over his shoulder and calmly drew his sword bayonet. The blade alone was Eighteen inches long, almost as long as his arm. Edge sharpened to the molecular level, this one, she noted, did have not the cruel notches on the back, which made sense she thought, with enough momentum and proper technique, even a child could use this weapon to lethal effect, but the notches would have made it unfeasibly difficult to pull out and likely to be caught in the flesh of the enemy, leaving the user unarmed.
 
"Go!" He told her, as if to ease her conscience. Before weaving through a mutant swipe and thrusting his weapon under its exposed jaw. The mutants body snapped straight before making one last convulsion as its brain was penetrated.
 
"But..." She hesitated, surprised by the soldiers approval of her actions.
 
"The mission." The soldier stated, his voice retaining its monotone even in the heat of combat. As he shoved the corpse towards the advancing mutants, Causing the ones in front to stumble as two others approached from either flank.
 
She spent another precious moment locked in indecision, unable to make up her mind. Hearing the closest thing that the soldier could make to a sound of pain, he yelped, the sound more of an involuntary action, as he barely sidestepped a blow, its claws evaded completely but the thick stump of its elbow glanced past his armored chest and knocked the wind out of him. He almost stumbled, but endured and thrust the blade into his attackers armpit, rupturing its heart. It wont be long now, she thought, he would overcome one, maybe two more mutants before eventually being overwhelmed. Her body screamed at her, demanding that she run, she drew her slug thrower, a primitive six shot model, similar to the one her father kept, only useful for keeping prey animals at bay. And against her better judgement, fired at one of the Kriegs flankers.
 
The slugs proved ineffectual to the mutants thick skull only serving to temporarily daze it and draw attention to herself. She noticed a few of their number turn towards her, growling in pleasure and advancing at the easier prey. She breathed in, remembering her lessons, and lined the sights up before squeezing the trigger. She fired into the crowd, five mutants fell, a slug finding its way into a mutant eye. She heard the weapon click, reporting that it had expended all its ammunition, before she felt herself being gripped. This was it, she thought to herself, She wouldn't be going home after all.
 
She expected herself to be dragged towards the basement, perhaps feeling a bite from some of the hungrier mutants along the way. But no, she wasn't bitten, wasn't dragged towards the basement or held down on the ground. Instead she was manhandled towards the exit, a mutant attempted to intercept but, halted, wailing in agony as a boot connect to its kneecap. She heard another clicking sound, this one different from the report of an exhausted weapon, She was practically hurled outside and this time she was shoved down into the ground, she felt another body lay on top of her prone form as the world apparently exploded in flame as the sound of a frag grenade going off filled her ears.
 
When she came to, she saw their former shelter in flames. Fires from the burning structure illuminating an otherwise dark street. She found herself laying against a rockcrete wall on the opposite side of the street. She directed her eyes to look up at the night sky as her ears rung, doing her best to shake off the concussive effects of being in close proximity to an explosion. A figure loomed over her, she never knew she would find herself feeling surge of relief at the sight of one of those death masks. But there he was, the grenades that hung on his webbing were all gone now, and there were a few new scratches on his carapace armor, but otherwise in he was good shape. He was holding his hellgun, its barrel still smoking, he must have cleared the misfire at some point and used it to dispatch any mutants that managed to survive the explosion.  
 
The soldier slung his weapon on his back and crouched down to her level. She looked at his lenses and suddenly felt two gloved hands press against her skin. The hands wandered all over her body, pressing and squeezing. Starting from her cheeks and tracing their way down to her neck, then towards her shoulders, followed by the sides of her arms. She almost recoiled in surprise, before realizing what the soldier was doing. She felt his hands start at her armpits, his fingers probing her sides, she bit her lips when he pressed his palms into her chest, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive tips of her breasts. She fought back a moan as the lingering tingle of his touch caused her chest to fill with warmth. And with the same methodical precision he displayed in combat, he moved his hands found their way down to her stomach, on occasion he would ask her if pressing against certain areas caused any pain or discomfort. She would dazedly reply, distracted, finding herself wishing that he didn't have to wear those thick gloves that made his touch so impersonal. She breathed a little heavily as his hands moved lower down to her hips and began to inspect her legs, her looking up to his masked face, him focused on the task at hand. She panted slightly as his fingers glided through the yielding flesh of her inner thighs and buttocks. And tracing her calves, then finally moving down to the soles of her feet.
 
She felt a pang of disappointment when he stopped, two pats on her left shoulder and an outstretched hand signaled the end of his inspection. "No sign of any broken bones or shrapnel intrusion." he said, as he helped her up.
 
"You really should buy a girl dinner before you feel her up." She said, feeling a little giddy from the flood of endorphins, triggered by a combination of her survivors rush, and his caresses.  
 
"Hostiles pacified but the explosion will probably attract attention." commented her companion, ignoring her quip.
 
"Recommend immediate covert movement to evade detection from any curious xenos eyes." He said, pointing to an alternate route on the data-slate as they stood by the smouldering remnants of their shelter.
 
"I'll let this one slide for now." she joked, taking a step but stumbling as her combat high began to wear off, the soldier catching her before she hit the ground.
 
"We must go now." he said, moving to her side and supporting her weight by putting her arm around his neck as he tightly gripped her waist.  
 
"Just because you're a good listener." She continued, leaning against the soldier, welcoming the feeling of his hand on her waist.  
 
The two figures quickly limped away into an alley and onto the alternate route, the darkness absorbed them easily, the shade of the soldiers clothes and armor caught little light, while her Chameleoline Cloak blended with her surroundings. They made slow progress during the night, forced to resort to their night sight lest they attract further attention. Remaining on the move as they waited for the dawn.
 
The sun was harsh, Daisy thought to herself.
 
It was the Second day of their trek, a day since they made their way out of the city and were following the rockcrete road towards the outpost. Only two more days she thought to herself. Only two more days and one way or the other I will find relief. She told herself as she walked behind the soldier, beads of sweat rolled from her face down to her neck, parts of her shirt were marked with dark patches of perspiration. And by the Emperor's light, the sun was harsh. Her Chameleoline Cloak was thin, and ill suited to protect her from its rays. She missed her poor weather gear, which was lost during the raid, along with the rest of her provisions. All she had now, was her cloak, pistol and the clothes on her back. Everything else was long gone, possibly stolen by their mutant assailants from last night, or destroyed along with the ruins.
 
She never noticed the blistering heat since her unit spent most of the campaign within the air conditioned confines of a chimera, or In the ruins of evacuated urban zones where the towering structures protected them from direct exposure. And now they followed the barren road, nothing but dirt around them, save for the emergency vehicle that was small and tiny in the horizon, The Krieg took point, his weapon drawn and at the ready, he reasoned that the flat terrain allowed little opportunity for stealth and that he would be more likely to survive any sniper fire on account of his carapace armor, She drank sparingly from the canteen he entrusted to her. She needed no instruction to ration her consumption, She fully understood that they would have to make this last for the duration of their trip.
 
The punishing pace that the Krieg set was difficult enough, His strides were swift and unceasing and the two of them marched for hours at a time. She would lay down, exhausted during the short and infrequent 20 minute breaks that he allowed as he reviewed his data-slate. All these factors, combined with her fatigue from last nights exertions and sleep deprivation had made it an especially hellish endeavor. She felt herself go dizzy as they continued to march on. They had at least seven more hours of marching before the next shelter. Resting for any longer was not an option, the krieg told her. He had already made the calculations that set the parameters of their trip. Any longer and they would not make it in time to the emergency vehicle stop.
 
They had no choice, Daisy told herself. They had to make it to the shelter or they would not survive the night. But there were just some things that grim determination could not defeat.    
 
And so she collapsed, from the sheer exhaustion, dehydration and exposure. Her consciousness wavered and she felt a little relief as a shadow loomed over her, providing a small but welcome respite from the suns glare.
 
She looked up to the figure as he regarded her. The lenses of his mask gave nothing away as always. Was this the end? She asked herself. Would she be left to die from exposure as the Krieg marched on to complete its mission?  Or would she be given the blessings of the Emperor's peace?
 
She could not begin to guess what the soldier had in mind for her. For how could one such as him relate to the likes of her? She was a sinner, a penitent, burdened by the original sin of her forefathers. The sin of mutation, an affront towards the perfect human form that the was granted by the God-Emperor. With that in mind, she allowed the darkness to take her...
 
Trooper Eleven Forty Six's mind was a torrent, Its mind whirring with the logis calculations that every Korpsman was schooled in. Recalling the field procedure, that had solutions for every possible scenario. Remembering the lessons given to it by its instructors, remembeing recordings of their Generals voices and the wisdom that they imparted through the vox speakers installed on their barracks and training grounds. Broadcasting non stop as they trained, ate and slept.
 
It was surprised at the weakness that lay before it. Were these soldiers not trained to endure such light hardships? it thought to itself. As it remembered its brutal training regiment, whos endless and drills and laps had started before the sun rose and continued long after it set. This little trek was light marching duty by comparison.
 
It calculated the odds based on the new variables. If it chose to delay their progress by waiting for the ratling to recover, then they would definitely die and its mission would be a failure. 'A trooper that cannot take care of itself is worthless.' Its mouth moved, as it sub vocalized its instructors words. 'A trooper that cannot take care of itself, is worthless...' It repeated, almost as if it needed to convince itself of the proper course of action to handle a situation such as this. As its hands clenched tighter around the frame of its Hellgun, feeling the reassuring weight of the unreliable, but necessary weapon that it held. It held its weapon more firmly as it made its decision. This time it remembered a quote from one of its long dead generals, played over and over by the vox speaker as stood in formation with its peers, waiting to board the troopship that will take them on their journey to serve the God-Emperor.
 
Daisy's mind went in and out of consciousness, she was in half sleep, barely lucid and relying on the input of her senses, blunted by fatigue as it were, they was still sharper than most other humans, capable of picking up minute details. She heard the sound of multiple layers rubbing together as it made a shuffling sound, felt her body rested against a coarse and thick surface, her limbs felt stiff and restrained, as if she was bound. Her nose detected an oddly familiar scent, it was subtle but definitely chemical in nature, nothing that could possibly be identified as human.
 
Her mind slowly drifted into full wakefulness, as she wondered if she was somehow found by a wandering band of mutants, who somehow found a way to survive in this seemingly uninhabitable wasteland, carried like some sort of game animal, taken to whatever warren that they sheltered themselves in, bound and kept alive to maintain freshness, until the time came for it to be consumed.
 
She braced herself, preparing one last spurt of energy, knowing that escape was unlikely and instead planning on forcing her captors to finish her off. She tensed in preparation for her last act of defiance before a familiar voice spoke to her.
 
"Drink" it said, as its owner passed her a canteen. She felt the bindings on her arms loosen, as she realized that they were made to keep her from falling off its back as it marched.
 
"But why...?" She asked in a raspy voice, before she drank from the canteen.
 
The soldier briefly turned its head towards her before returning his gaze towards the road ahead.
 
"Why didn't you leave me?" She continued as she inspected her bindings, finding herself bound to his back via his Hellgun Powerpack's adjustable webbing.
 
"Why do you keep risking your life for me?" She continued, still unable to believe the turn of events.
 
"Because..." Eleven Forty Six uncharacteristically paused midway before resuming. "Because, your life is more valuable than mine..."  
 
"B-but I'm abhuman, a sinner, guilty from the day I was born. How could you say that I could possibly hold more value than-" She wanted to continue but the Krieg interrupted her.
 
"Krieg is a planet of penitents" He began, as he told him about the history of Krieg, Their sin of Revolting against the Emperor, and their hopes of finding redemption by serving the Imperium. He spoke awkwardly, finding difficulty in formulating the sentences, unaccustomed to speaking outside of voice procedure. He continued to tell her about his people and their past as he marched. And for the first time she found herself voluntarily ending a conversation while the other party was still willing to converse. Daisy chose to hush the boy and telling him that she understood.
 
The soldier marched on, not seeming to mind the additional weight on his back, much like the rest of his equipment, she thought, must have been trivial by comparison to the burden that he bore on his shoulders. she wanted to say more but she couldn't, wanted to express the bond she felt with her companion, but she was unable to find the right words. Maybe, she thought to herself, maybe this is how he felt? Maybe words weren't necessary to convey ones feelings. She considered this for a moment before once again resting her head on his shoulders, this time she no longer minded the chemical smell.
 
When she next spoke, they were already inside the confines of the emergency stop.
 
Eleven Forty Six set her down in a corner as he sweeped the rooms and set up their perimeter for the night. Satisfied that the same incident would not repeat itself, he joined her as they sat in the darkness backs against a wall, not wanting to risk attracting attention to themselves, even in this remote location, and dined on the troopers remaining corpse starch rations. Making do with their night vision.
 
"I have no Idea how you put up with these" She broke the silence, For the sake of hearing his voice more than anything.
 
"I mean, they don't even taste like anything..." She continued as she nonetheless consumed the ration bar.
 
The troopers head tilted inquisitively as he regarded her.
 
"Please define, what is this 'Taste', that you are referring to?" He asked, As he also partook of his ration, still preferring to smuggle it under his mask.
 
"Sweet, Salty, Sour... You know..." She said making motions with her hands as if they could describe the concept of taste as she trailed off, chewing the bland ration, assuming his dialect had a different word for the same concept.
 
The soldier sat unmoving as if expecting her to explain further.
 
"Don't tell me that this is the only thing they feed you." She said as she waved the remainder of the bar for emphasis.
 
"Negative" The soldier replied. "This Trooper is also granted access nutri-gruel during its time spent in the troopships and barracks in between operations." He explained with a hint of pride as if getting to eat the equally tasteless slop was a privilege.
 
"Thats all they feed you?" She replied, with a little disbelief.
 
The Soldier did not respond, seemingly content to eat his ration and let her speak.
 
"You're not serious, are you?"
 
Still no reply.
 
"Well, I want you to promise me." She said as she began to inc a little closer towards the soldier.
 
"I want you to promise me that when this is all over. You'll let me cook up a meal for you." She said, giving the soldier her best smile, hoping that his eyes were adjusted enough to see it in the darkness.
 
"This Trooper is not authorized to make such commitments." He replied in the same monotone as he usually did.
 
"Then whenever you're free to make that decision." She said, continuing to inch a little closer to him.
 
"It doesn't matter if it will be months from now, or years even..." she said, as she looked intently towards the Eleven Forty Six.
 
"Just promise me that, even if it isn't on this planet, if we somehow end up meeting again, and you are able to take that liberty, then you'll join me for a meal." She was sitting right next to the soldier at this point.
 
"This Trooper will take every effort to keep his end of the bargain, when those conditions are met, and it doesn't interfere with its duties." He said as he nodded, altering an older phrase to fit this situation.
 
"Lets shake on it" she extended her hand towards him.
 
The look the soldier gave her was expected at this point. She sighed, knowing full well that he did not understand the gesture.
 
She took his hand in hers and was admittedly surprised to find that he did not pull away.
 
"There" she said, shaking his hand. "We shook on it and now you have to make good on your promise"
 
"Affirmative" Replied the soldier before getting up.
 
"Where are you going?" She said, a little disappointed at his departure.
 
"This Trooper will take first watch" he said, as he headed towards the entrance.
 
"B-but" she tried to salvage the situation...
 
"Wont your presence be easier to detect?" She tried reasoning.
 
"Maybe we should stay close to each other" She said, tapping her hand on rockcrete floor beside her.
 
The soldier regarded her and was about to reply before she reinforced her argument.
 
"Plus we could share body heat and present a smaller, and harder to detect profile." she invented desperately.
 
"Very well" the soldier yielded to her logic and resumed his position right next to her as she shifted closer to him, returning to their old position before he got up.
 
She snuggled against the soldier as they sat against the wall, The soldier noticed her shivering and unbuttoned his greatcoat while she happily let herself in, huddling together in the combined warmth of their bodies, insulated by the excellent material of his greatcoat, she leaned against his chest and drifted to sleep, listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart. She knew that danger could at come any moment and that there were a number of things that could get them. But to her, right here, right now, huddled against this korpsman, this was the safest place in the Imperium.
 
She woke up after a few hours and noticed that the soldier was still on alert. She insisted for him to sleep as she took her turn in holding watch. The soldier complied after a small argument and soon drifted off to sleep.
 
She watched his slumped figure as he relaxed, and was momentarily tempted to unmask him. She decided against it, not because she did not want to, but because she felt that it was a matter of respect to allow the soldier his privacy. She pulled the soldier closer, setting his head down on her chest, giving him whatever comfort she could, She shifted a little closer to his exposed neck and breathed deeply of his scent, knowing that he would not mind this small intrusion. She may not be able to see his face, she thought,  But she would at least have something to remember him by.
 
The sun rose as usual, and she found herself refreshed after the nights rest.
 
The remainder of their journey continued without incident and they soon made their way to the outpost by the afternoon. And to her relief, it was manned exclusively by Cadian personnel. She split up with her companion as they made their respective reports. The Colonel in the outpost promised her that he would have reinforcements and a repair crew ready by tomorrow's dawn and instructed her to rest up in the meantime.
 
Daisy headed for the barracks with a spring in her step, almost giddy with excitement as she made plans for her free time with Eleven Forty Six. Whom to her surprise, was not present. Maybe, she thought to herself, maybe he was elsewhere, still busy doing whatever business he was instructed to conduct. Unwilling to wait any longer than necessary, she asked around, in search of the boy, and was informed that the krieg soldier was last seen on the requisition depot, speaking with the quartermaster. A few more inquiries later and she found out that the soldier only stayed long enough to make his report, have his power pack recharged and requisitioned a resupply of grenades and provisions.
 
She ran, not knowing what difference it could make, ran towards the entrance of the compound, colliding with some of its occupants, and managing to avoid others by mere inches, The confused personnel shouted behind her, some complained, while others asked what the fuss was about.
 
Only by sheer luck did she manage to catch up to the soldier, who was already making his way out of the compound. She shouted after him, halting him in his tracks as he stopped to look towards the sound that was causing the racket.
 
"Wont you stay a while?" She said, panting, a little winded from her sprint.
 
"Negative" the soldier replied, shaking his head. "This trooper will commence with the second part of his assignment." He informed her, before turning away.
 
"Wait" She exclaimed, grabbing one of his hands, not wanting to seem him go just yet.
 
"Do you think we'll meet again?" She asked the soldier.
 
"I do not have that information." He replied as she sighed, finding lips forming into a smile despite herself, seemingly amused at how accustomed she was to his ways.
 
"Will you keep your promise?" She asked.
 
"If the opportunity presents itself." The soldier replied, without changing its tone.
 
She squeezed his hand tightly as she began to speak. "Two Eighty Seven dash Sixty Four Ten dash Six Twenty three dash One dash Eleven Forty Six" she inhaled after the repeating the long serial number. "I wont forget you" she said, looking intently into the lenses of his mask.
 
"May we both one day find redemption in the eyes of the Immortal God=Emperor." He said as she felt him squeeze back.
 
She watched as he marched towards his next destination, not looking back, his strides were as swift and as unceasing as they always were, watched until he disappeared from view, she stayed a little longer before heading into the barracks, Sighing to herself before returning back into the compound. She added another vow as she walked back, For as long as she lived, she vowed, She would not forget his name and she would not forget his scent.
 
In the distance, Eleven Forty Six marched on, his resources were refreshed by the quartermaster, and his body well rested from the night before. He made his way to his next assignment, with the same level of commitment as the countless others that he had completed. As he marched he remembered the words of the long dead general from the vox speakers, The very same words that helped him make his decision against standard protocol, the words that convinced him that saving the Cadian private was the right thing to do. The very words that played out, over and over as when they boarded the troop ship that would take them.
 
"It has already been calculated that you cannot win this war. The Emperor's most glorious triumph will not be achieved in your lifetimes."
 
"But for every second you stand against the enemy's guns, you deplete his resources. You make him weaker. Your lives may be worthless, but you can sell them dearly"
 
"This, then, is your objective. It is your duty and your destiny: die bravely, die hard, and know that even the meager sacrifice you make will be noted and weighed against your ancestors' heresies."
 
"You will be hastening the hour - the glorious, promised hour - when the sons of Krieg will at last be forgiven, and its sons redeemed in the Emperor's all-seeing eyes."
 
"And thus, your fleeting existences will have been justified"
 
"Go now, sons of Krieg, go and earn the forgiveness of the God-Emperor"
 
"In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement"
 
And so he marched on, his strides were swift and his pace was unceasing.