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Chapter Text

On the planet of Gighust, a hive world barely outside the fringe of the Emperor's light, there are twelve training facilities planet wide. Each one running 10 miles across, 12 miles long, and 20 stories high, immaculate examples of the Imperium’s dedication to training the best of the best. In one particular facility, there are several thousand crew quarters for recruits, men and women of the Imperium who have been conscripted to fight for their God Emperor, to take on Xenos threats and to wage war until they either die, or fulfill their destiny.

Gighust was not a usual hive world. The quality of soldiers they produced was great, their battle survivability was considerably higher than most trained Imperial Guard Regiments, and while they lived and breathed combat with vigorous training day in and day out… There was a deep problem brewing in the ranks of this training world.

“GUARDSMAN WHAT THE KRAK AM I LOOKING AT?” Screamed Lieutenant Herrod at one of the many soldiers in the pristine and well tended barracks, as though he just witnessed him pull the pin on a grenade and stick it in his mouth. The brown haired Guardsman in question, in sheer defiance of the drills burned into his skull, sat lazily on his bunk. Every other soldier was standing at attention, terrified of earning their superiors' fury, watched on in curiosity and horror.

“Sweet right? I know, I know, it’s against regulations but-“ the calm demeanor of the soldier was swiftly interrupted by some liberal ‘corporal punishment’, in the form of a punch that rattled the Guardsmans brains as it connected with his chin, going flat on the gray cement. This wasn’t unusual, even by Imperial standards this was rather kind instead of the usual bullet to the head. Still, the fury building within the Lieutenant was palpable.

“I am sick and tired of seeing this krakking trash in these barracks! I will find whoever keeps distributing this Xenos filth, and until the perpetrator is apprehended, you are ALL on double combat patrol for the next MONTH!” Screeched out the Lieutenant with such force and intensity that they were amazed he hadn’t torn his vocal cords, or busted their eardrums.

Besides the knocked out soldier on the ground, each one gave a firm salute and a resolute “Sir yes Sir!” They watched him carefully roll up the ‘trash’ like hawks, sticking it into his shirt pocket. None of them needed to even ask what he was going to do with it, as they’d all gotten several looks at it before. The Lieutenant looked over to a particular individual, baby faced and still without scars, as Herrod walked up to them with seething fury.

“Corporal Eronus! If you can’t keep a better handle on your squad, I WILL demote you and send your ass digging trenches with the Kriegers for the rest of your miserable life! Do I make myself clear?” The man shouted, spit spraying against the stoic and unflinching face of Corporal Eronus, leader of this squad of 20 men and women.

“Sir yes sir! I will discipline my squad, Emperor willing!” The red haired man shouted back with conviction found only in the most noble of Humanity. A steely glare of scrutiny was plastered against the Lieutenant’s almost leathery features, before huffing and turning around, marching out of the barracks with heavy boot steps. When the coast was clear and Eronus could no longer hear the steps of his superior, he walked over to the fallen Guardsman. Kneeling down, he picked up his subordinate, and closest friend.

“Jerick, you’re seriously gonna get killed one of these days before you ever make it into battle- and for what, a poster?” He chastised him harshly, pulling him up with a firm grip. Seeing a cut on his face from the sheer force of the punch, and the now swelling bruise upon Jerick’s jaw, he could tell Lieutenant Herrod was starting to lose his patience.

“Of course man… you know I love redheads… can’t fault me for having taste, can you Eronus?” Jerick joked as he was seeing stars, needing to support himself upon his fellow soldier over the contraband that had been confiscated. A poster.

Not just any poster, but a Xenos poster, of one of those blue people, a T’au they were called.

Eronus let out a sigh as the tension in the air began to lessen. It was of a T’au female, one with long red hair and long legs- longer than any human woman he’d ever seen, the hips were almost wider than their shoulders! You would think that soldiers might, at most, appreciate their technology of giant mech suits that can turn even the most basic soldier into a rocket slinging machine of death- unfortunately, his squad wanted the sweet blue filling inside the mech.

It was like a ticking time bomb, getting passed around through each barracks, soldiers leaving patrols to ‘study Xeno biology’, he even heard of a holotape that had a Earth Caste soldier working on one of those big battle suits: except she barely had anything on, with steam and sweat coating her body, the skin tight jumpsuit barely covering her unmentionables.

He was sure Jerick would’ve turned traitor if Lieutenant Herrod hadn’t confiscated it before his friend could see it. Of course, that didn’t help the other idiots that loudly proclaimed they wanted to desert their posts for… ‘blueberry booty’, before getting shot by a firing squad under the General’s order. Sure, they were idiots, but they were just the loud ones. When it was clear the Lieutenant was gone for good, the rest of the squad relaxed, and immediately opened their mouths.

“Jerick you moron, you know better than to have it out in the open! Hide it under your sole and stomp when you salute to flatten it! Seriously, we've timed his rounds!”
“It’s fine I have my stash too, besides redheads are overrated. If he gets killed then no more trash tastes in the gene pool.”
“Who even cares about the Earth Caste? Please tell me you have the one of that Water Caste showing off his back? He’s so soft and I can just drool over him~”
“Of course! I know you ladies love those Diplomats!”

His squad… were the quiet ones. He’s sure the Lieutenant hasn’t had them executed for Xenos Sympathizing because he hoards the material for himself and can’t exactly leave the facility to procure ‘new materials’. Not that Eronus even knew how far this circulation of contraband had gone- for all he knew, the General of this entire facility was hoarding all the T’au smut he could handle, the ‘Greater Goods’ he’d heard so much about.

It really made him think of how far the Imperial Guard had gone as a whole, and where they stood in all of this. The Imperium of Man had so many legions of Guardsmen that it was almost hard to keep track. Everyone praised the Space Marines as the Emperor’s Angels, even if it was the Guardsman who did 90% of the work.

There were the Catachan Jungle Fighters that couldn’t stop dick measuring even if a Commissar threatened to chop it off.

The Death Corps of Krieg had their shovel swinging suicidal idiots grown from vats that only have sex to have more troops.

The Cadian’s who learn to field strip a Lasgun before they can read and fight a Swarm Lord at 16, the damned know it alls.

The Armageddon Steel Legion who probably jerk off with barbed wire and cum radioactive semen in their tanks.

Tallarn Desert Raiders who dared to work with the Eldar and probably drank sand more than water.

The Tanith First-and-Only that can’t help themselves from going into battle even though they’re the ONLY REGIMENT of their lost planet.

And finally, Gighust’s Blazing Spears Regiment who can’t stop jerking off to aliens and would be burned at the stake with an erection.

Eronus wished it wasn’t true, but he’s seen the most hardened war veteran without the smallest hint of life in him immediately light up when asked about the enemies he’s faced abroad. Where most Guardsmen feel disgust and hatred towards the enemies of their God Emperor, the Blazing Spears feel… something closer to ‘perverse anger’.

“Ugh, I want to mark that bastard up with bites and scratches!”
“Hand prints and some hair pulling would go good~”
“Uninspired, why not dog collars?”
“It’d teach that Fire Caste who’s the real man in the room!”

Eronus sighed as Jerick had gotten himself back to talking about T’au and sharing their contraband with each other, feeling the gap between himself and his fellow humans grow with each passing day. The ravenous, flustered looks of desire spread across their faces wouldn’t be out of place in a Chaos cult. Despite his reluctance to even bother, Eronus raised his voice with an authority the squad only heard when he gave combat orders, immediately earning their attention.

“Squad D68! Your actions are reprehensible to not only the Guard, but to the God Emperor of Mankind himself! Any Commissar would kill you on sight, any Sister of Battle would burn you to ashes, and the Inquisition would exterminate the entire planet due to your actions! What do you have to say for yourselves?” Eronus barked out, the sharp tone not fitting his softer features, as each of them saluted and spoke in unison.

“Corporal Eronus! We have sinned against our Imperium! Be it shooting squads, lethal injection, or digging our own graves, we will accept any punishment you deem necessary! Teach us the ways of Humanity!”

Any Corporal would be elated to see his squad accept their position under him, any General would feel the respect he deserves, and even the Tech Priests might appreciate flesh for once with their obedience. If only this hadn’t been the 20th time he’s had this talk with them.

Eronus sighed as he relaxed muscles he didn’t realize were tensed up, before speaking in his regular tone. “Find me the news on where we’re getting deployed next month, give your contraband over to Squad S31, and by the Emperor’s Throne please be kraking discreet?” His words were met with beaming smiles.

“Sir yes sir! Your kindness upon these useless bags of meat will forever be remembered in history!”

This was the best way he could figure out how to get them to listen. Eronus didn’t want to kill his subordinates- ever since tales of Ciaphas Cain spread across the Imperium over the past hundred years, it’s become more and more clear that the best way to motivate humans wasn’t fear, but understanding. Jerick, the first soldier he ever reprimanded, taught him how to get the troops moving. Now that very same idiot was his best friend, for better or for worse. All of them began moving quickly, the same precision that had been trained for combat against enemies of man, were now being used to trade their smut.

It was a system.

Each Squad of the 24th Company would trade ‘information’ of Xenos to better be prepared for their unique ‘biological traits’ and to mentally ‘harden’ themselves against said threats. Apparently it’s been a tradition for the past 50 years, and due to Eronus’ no nonsense attitude with orders, everyone liked to defer to him. People like Lieutenant Herrod came from off world, brought in to ‘discipline’ the unruly Guardsmen of Gighust, before they themselves were turned into Xenos Sympathizers. Why say it with such confidence? Lieutenant Herrod didn’t tear it up the instant he saw it, and didn't help the punch he gave Jerick felt almost personal.

Eronus just prays that they never figure out that the Blazing Spears were all secretly into it. Herrod likely didn’t keep attacking Jerick because he saw his lower half ‘saluting’. Things were weird, even outside of Gighust.

Ever since Guilleman returned, the Primarch of the Ultramarines, the Sol system has been buzzing with news and excitement. It revitalized the Imperium’s desire to fight, leading to many Regiments being flown out to the frontlines in record speed. From what information he’s gotten through letters from home and his few superiors, it’s likely the 24th company will be heading out against Tyranids. He can only hope that his squad won’t try to do anything… heretical when they see them.

What Eronus doesn’t know is his place in the grand scheme of events that will soon overtake the Imperium, the Milky Way Galaxy, and the universe at large in the few coming years of the beginning of the 42nd Millennium. For now, he will merely start cleaning his Lasgun, look over the reports from other Squads, and try to ignore the whoops and shouts of perversion he can hear from his subordinates.

Chapter Text

The Schola Progenium had trained him for many potential situations and more that could never be conceived. This is a situation that should never have been allowed. This felt akin to a farce, a foul joke that a quick Bolter shell to the head would have solved quickly. Yet with each passing day, Arquebus was forced to contend with the fact that the information was not falsified, tampered with, or even exaggerated.

The data slate was filled with hundreds of images of Xenos. T’au, Eldar, Necrons, and even abominable Genestealers. The contents consistently made him wonder whether or not he should pull every string at his disposal to destroy every tainted world he could. To do as Kryptman did, and perform Exterminatus to starve the forces of Chaos.

He restrained himself from these thoughts, even in the privacy of his own chambers, with the unshakable truth he knew in his heart. The Tainted Marigold, Flame Tongues, Dread Blooms, Blue Sins: each and every one of them proved something essential to Arquebus. Xenos and the Imperium of Man were incompatible by nature. these strains of flowers taken from worlds where Humans and Xenos dared to try and live together.

The specimen jars he kept in his room had been tended to thoroughly, having samples prepared in small clear containers for his usual preachings. He would have to thank the Acolytes, as the importance of these lessons was imperative to the coming challenge he would face upon Gighust. By the Emperor, it would certainly be a challenge.

….

“Navigator, Astropath, report,” demanded the Captain of the Dauntless Hammer, a mechanical eye scouring over her crew.

“We are only a few hours away from Gighust Captain, nothing in the Warp has disrupted the Emperor’s light,” the Navigator spoke with the usual tiredness his kind suffered from. “Gighust’s reports are the same, no sudden movements or mobilization of battalions. The citizens of the Imperium have made no changes to their routines, only continuing to work for the Emperor,” replied the Astropath as she delved into the Warp, listening to the distant information of their fellow psyker.

‘Still nothing?’ The captain questioned within her mind. Usually when an Inquisitor demanded the use of their Fleets, it would end up causing at least some form of havoc planet side. Even with the little information the Captain received, she figured something would be happening by now. Inquisitors weren’t the type to merely pop their head in to say Salutations.

They always had an agenda.

“Captain Rorkalle, report.”

‘There he was,’ the Captain of the Dauntless Hammer turned on her heel to face the Inquisitor Arquebus, saluting to him in all his glory . “No changes planet side. Gellar fields staying strong, crews are working diligently, rations are still stocked high, servitor’s report no changes in integrity of the Hull,” she quickly explained, waiting for permission to cease saluting- which he gave quickly.

Some Inquisitors would’ve made her salute until they left the throne damned deck, and due to their position, could exercise that right whenever they wished.

“Interesting. Never seen Xenos lovers act so confidently. Perhaps there’s a cult that believes they can overpower the Emperor’s glorious Navis Imperialis?” The Inquisitor spoke with a hint of humor in his voice, yet his scarred face was in a twisted scowl. “You have permission to speak freely, although I appreciate your patience,” he added on, as though he could sense her agitation. An agitation that Rorkalle herself didn’t seem to notice. 

“Inquisitor Arquebus, you said Xenos lovers? How? How could they-“ she felt a fury rise that didn’t easily become stoked, as a short scoff left the man beside her. “I question the same thing. Gighust was not a backwards primal world that praised a false god, nor a death world where we could justify the objectification of what they should fear. Gighust is merely Gighust, where at least 10% of each Regiment sent out ends up committing some form of heresy with the enemies of Man.”  Even beneath the layers of thick leather and blessed scriptures, the Inquisitorial Rosette burned brightly in its hidden presence. “If that is the case Inquisitor, then why did you bring-“

“To remind them of the beauty of humanity.” He cut her off, already having prepared his speech beforehand, how to push the conversation into this direction, and what words to invoke the loyalty of the Imperium into the Captain. 

“It’s quite simple. Abnormal is not different, it is merely a new addition to the baseline. Xenos are creatures of entirely different systems and beliefs that would never merge well with Humanity even if they were not heretical abominations to the Emperor’s light.” His eyes lingered on the Astropath and the Navigator, a practiced smile playing on his lips. “The Navigator is a noble, the Astropath is a peasant, yet both serve their purposes. They both believe in the beauty and grace of the Emperor, because they are human regardless of any difference in body shape. Mutants are sudden, despicable, horrific abominations against the Imperium ,” he allowed the venom building up in his heart to seep out for a moment. If the Navigator heard the conversation, he surely didn't let it be shown- how could the Inquisitor dare compare a noble Navigator to those mutants?

“But the Abhumans cannot be blamed. Separated from the Emperor, being forced into worlds where they were unable to know our Creed. They are consistent. They are predictable. They are simple. Where they deviate, they make up for in vigor. That is all a true worshiper of the Emperor could ever hope for, is it not?” Arquebus asked, knowing the answer already.

Rorkalle took a split second to absorb the information, and skillfully pretended that it all made perfect sense. Just like the Schola Progenium had taught her.

“So you brought the Abhumans here to curb the heretical desires of the Blazing Spears?” She asked with convincing hesitancy, knowing better than to ever act sure in front of an Inquisitor. They needed the ego boost to stop them from shooting their comrades. Arquebus gave a simple nod. “Introducing a Hive World to beings that are not only loyal to the Imperium but are actively compatible is far more effective than killing the entire planet, if I can train these simple horndogs well, I’m sure the Xenos will be incapable of tempting them,” Arquebus stated with practiced fake confidence. 

The pictures were everywhere. Some had reached Holy Terra. Less than 0.001% of the Imperium had begun to view Xenos differently. They saw them as people. This was unacceptable. It was impossible. 

It was HERESY.

But killing them wouldn’t solve anything. Ciaphas Cain was a coward and a spineless bastard. But he knew one thing, and that was how to make idiots loyal. 

The might of the Imperium wouldn’t fall to these Xenos scum. Every true believer of the Emperor would never give in. 

Arquebus, watched over by his gracious and blessed guardian, would make sure of that. He turned over to Rorkalle, already knowing her hesitancy to speak to not set off any landmines he had placed during their exchange. It was smart, she knew her place and that is why she was the Captain of this vessel. Then again, Arquebus proudly wore the title of Inquisitor of the Ordos Xenos, so anything other than staunch agreement and acceptance of his orders was nothing short of heresy.

No Emperor loving Captain would ever dare to say otherwise.

“With knowledge that everything is proceeding smoothing, will there be anything else you need, Inquisitor Arquebus?” Rorkalle asked flatly, prepared for the mental torture equivalent of a Drill Abbot. Surprisingly, Arquebus gave a simple shake of the head. “No, that will be all Captain. Get some recaff in you, you look terrible,” he gave her the slightest smile as he walked off, boots quietly stomping as Rorkalle could only imagine how much bloodshed will fill her ship.

Said bloodshed was already going to begin, as Arquebus knew better than to trust anything he didn’t see with his own eyes. 

….

What he saw made Arquebus question how any Guardsmen in the Imperium was allowed to scrape by without the teachings of the Schola Progenium. A week in there would straighten out and discipline even a Catachan Jungle Fighter! Broken bones, tempered spirits, and unwavering faith was created in those walls, and yet outside of them he saw nothing but wild mongrels given guns! How dare they make a mockery of the Imperium! How dare they laugh in the face of his own torture in his years of academia?!

Ogryn and Beastmen were all playing . 

It sent a tide of fury in his heart that was quelled only through the fact that nothing of value had been broken yet. Ogryn and Beastmen alike were knocked down into the floor, each sporting several bruises but conscious, as though they knew better than to get up. Surrounding the group were many other Abhumans, Ratlings who climbed up the walls of the ship and hung off the smallest screws for a better view, Felinids that circled around to get a glimpse of the ‘game’, and even a Nightstrider watching on with dark glasses to shield their eyes.

Two opponents still stood, Arquebus watching the exchange. A simple glance told him that the objective was to get a ball into a net of sorts, and anyone knocked down must stay down. He put a bet on the Beastman in his mind.

“Oi goats gal! Ye think ye gunna beats big Bruno aintcha?” The giant Abhuman asked as he stomped clumsily across the already smudged floor, boots unlaced and threatening to come free with a single wrong movement. “You already lost in the arm wrestling contest Bruno, time you see why I’m the strongest in my clan!” The Beastwoman roared with excitement, easily scaling and using the clumsy Ogryn as a step stool in a single jump, before tossing a ball into what looked to be a net made from several shoe laces.

“And that’s anotha point for da Beasties! Go on and put yer bets in da basket, ya know da rules!” Cackled out a blonde Ratling woman, barely covering her body with her coat as she swung around a large basket that had different types of rations thrown into it. Of course, even Arquebus threw in a ‘ration’, a deliciously plump grape, before firmly grabbing the head of the racketeering woman who went limp in his grasp as if by command.

Be it the excitement of the game or his own silent entrance, Arquebus had taken the group of Abhumans off guard. Something they should know better than anyone else to never let happen. With the Ratling hanging in one hand and the winnings in the other, Arquebus chuckled. “I’m so glad to see you all have so much free time to be playing. I pick each of you to accompany me for a holy mission, and what do I get? Children playing games,” the venom barely leaving his lips, yet each Abhuman was scared to their very core.

“U-uh offy-sir! Me and mah lads are sorry offy-sir! Pl-please dun take ‘way our metals!” The Ogryn named ‘Bruno’ saluted with the wrong hand, smacking it against his skull with a resounding thunk while the Beastwoman reacted much more expectantly. “Inquisitor! I am sorry! Please, it was my idea to start this. I am deeply sorry, please do not punish the others for my grievous mistake!” Her High Gothic was good, immediately her words became more refined upon speaking to Arquebus, as she prostrated on the floor, her broken horns touching down.

Much of the other Abhumans did the same, even the Ratling he held in his grip gave up, as though they were all about to be executed.

Normally they would be. Truly, what good were they? Aberrant Humans that no longer resembled the God Emperor’s glorious image of Humanity. Horns, grotesque limbs, retractable claws, disgusting fangs, each of these Abhumans were a sin to the eyes and deserved to be purged in holy flame. 

But the currency of the Emperor are his soldiers, and Arquebus did not waste his Emperor’s money. 

“How can I truly fault you? You’ve been in this vessel for weeks, you’ve completed every single assignment, you’ve kept it in immaculate condition, and none of you have died. By the Emperor’s grace, I rarely see regular Guardsmen achieve such things. That is why I need you all as an example. ” The words made several of them flinch, specifically the Ratling who’s neck was now killing her, as she was eventually set down by Arquebus. She scrambled for a second, remembered her winnings- and went still as Arquebus handed it to her.

“So many things you could be doing, and you are innocently playing. I’m proud of you all, and that’s why I had chosen you. Because good soldiers follow orders, and I know you are all good soldiers. So do this simple act for me,” he focused certain words for the Ogryns, knowing that out of all of them, they’d need it dumbed down.

“ Protect the ship, help each other, and don’t waste food. Can you all do that for me?” His tone had lightened, and that was enough for the Ogryns to salute to their ‘offy-sir’, but the other Abhumans had to fight the sigh of relief that wanted to escape. They each gave a resounding salute, as Arquebus left the group to their devices. He’s sure he heard the Beastwoman begin to cry tears of joy, knowing she wouldn’t be gunned down for letting her feral nature out. Many others he could feel the breath they’d been holding leave their mouths, unearned relief filling them he surmised.

“Sir Inquisitor, a report for ya,” the Ratling from before came along with a quickness in her step that betrayed her size, and the level of acting she had just pulled off. Arquebus, still keeping his pace, took the data slate she’d been hiding underneath the basket and skimmed through it.

“Let me guess, you are all beginning to bond quite well together?” Arquebus let a seemingly sincere smile leave his lips, to which the Ratling nodded. “Yes sir, we gots each group workin together much betta than before, actin’ like family and all that. Sorry for doubtin’ ya Boss.” She quickly saluted, coat jostling as she wore a childish rendition of the Inquisitorial Rosette upon her neck.

“I do not blame you, we will arrive in a week. Redistribute the rations you gathered, except the grape. You can keep that,” he gave a low rumble of his voice, making the Ratling woman stiffen up as red lightly spread across her cheeks. “Th-thank ya sir!” She exclaimed a bit too loudly, before running off- as Arquebus had to stifle a rush of bile that rose up in his throat.

How disgusting.

Still, this little experiment of his was working better than he ever could’ve hoped. Now he just needed to have the Blazing Spears redirect their urges upon the Abhumans. Even better if he could wipe out their genetics as a result of superior human genes being introduced into a bloodline- he was sure the Emperor smiled upon him this day. 

Even better still, was the guardian that had begun to watch over him when he first left Holy Terra. A sign of grand things to come.

Chapter Text

Several transport carriers came down to the planet of Gighust across the twelve training facilities, each one sporting fifteen dozen abhuman soldiers that needed a few extra accommodations to make it down to the planet. To have the Imperium care for its soldiers was quite strange indeed, but it would be useful to keep these specific ones alive for the Blazing Spears. Apparently there were many ‘leg lovers’.

Brunhild went with the first round of transport vehicles alongside Inquisitor Arquebus, imperative to keep moving fast. If she allowed too much time to pass between landing, it could spell trouble for her charge. The Inquisitor took her presence in stride, even if many of his other acolytes had their muscles tensed up each time she entered the room. It was a waste of mental energy for them to behave in this way, she would not strike them down unless there was a reason to do so.

She did not waste the strength the Emperor gave her. No, every ounce of her being was dedicated to her first real task. Being sent from Holy Terra after hearing the order, she accepted it. She would never question her Emperor’s will. Never.

The order was just a little strange.

Still, she would prove herself without failure, she would never fail. Even within the internal dialogue, her focus never wavered for an instant. Even now she had every single millimeter of this carrier burned into her memory, now seeing that the real time calculations of time before landing were off by 0.005 seconds. 

Unacceptable.

“Inquisitor. Tell the mechanicus to recalibrate the transport shuttle when you return, it is off by several degrees and could spin out of control if untreated,” A complete lie, but she had learned that people do not act unless you put things in hyperbole. The Inquisitor gave a simple nod, while the Acolytes looked between them, wished to speak, then decided against it. 

Brunhild wasn’t one to speak, but ever since she heard of Eldar giving vague information to human allies that resulted in deaths, she felt it was imperative to avoid such problems. Perhaps to spite them as well. She knew the Imperial Guard were not trained to the extent of many others, so she felt it only made sense to correct where she saw errors. Doing so would increase the survivability of her charge by 584%. 

Compared to the rest of those in the transport, she barely even moved when they made landfall, the rough landing most likely due to the incorrect calculations and imperfections she saw. Even though she could hear most of what was said, she filed it as unimportant- merely the Inquisitor uplifting his men with lies. Over 894 lies he has spoken since she arrived on the Dauntless Hammer, a whole 259% over most Inquisitors she stumbled across and from the stories she heard from her squad. 

The stories were good, she had been practicing how to retell these stories to her charge. It was imperative she tell these tales, to bolster their spirit and overcome the adversity they shall face. She did not wait, not from excitement, but due to the Inquisitor taking too long to begin moving. Armor lightly clanked against the metal flooring, before sinking into the dry dir- lightly irradiated dirt of Gighust. The details were unimportant, several squadrons were prepared already, many of them speaking quietly to each other at the appearance of Brunhild. 

“Hello there fresh meat! My, how lively you all look today. Has something happened to give you all such broad smiles?” The Inquisitor asked knowingly, as several other transports were now opening up. Ogryn, Beastmen, Felinids, Nightsiders, Ratlings, Pelagers, and finally the Longshanks, each of them coming out as several groups from the transport stations. The Pelagers, rarely known to the common folk, wore their water breathers upon their gills, fins lightly poking out from their uniforms, as Nightsiders took out patchwork umbrellas to protect their sensitive eyes. The Longshanks had low gravity wells to accommodate their frail bones, Beastmen crushing up a few Light Leaves to keep their sensitive noses from being overwhelmed in a hive world.

Yet every single Guardsmen was enraptured with staring at them. Brunhild knew it was not an exaggeration of their love for the abnormal, but seeing it with her own eyes was enlightening to say the least. The Inquisitor went on about how the Abhumans and the Imperial Guard would be working together to take on the Tyranid threat, a growing cult on the Forgeworld Sahrun. 

An important supply world that could not afford to be taken, but the Inquisitor worded it as ‘A blight of Xenos stealing from the Emperor’s pocket!’ She felt that it was unnecessary, as the looks of shy Abhumans being winked and whistled at were more than a sign that the Guardsmen would do anything the Inquisitor told them to. In those moments where their loyalty had been ensured, she noticed his gaze linger on certain individuals, the small twitch of the scar on his left cheek indicated his desire to kill. 

It had been twitching on and off ever since she first met him. She didn’t care truly, if he had qualms against other soldiers then so be it. As long as her charge didn’t put himself in danger, it would be fine. More words to rally them together, to bring their desires to the forefront, and finally the tide of humans swarmed to the transport ships. Several hands grabbed others, smaller Abhumans picked up as though they were precious baskets of vegetables, and several Longshanks were carried in massive groups of Guardsmen cheering “ Tall men! Tall women! Blessed be the Emperor! ” 

Some Abhumans took it better than others, feeling flattered and easily letting themselves be swept up by the wave of emotions, while more than a few held in their distaste for their treatment. Naturally they did not attack, as it would remove what little acceptance they had.

“Captains, Lieutenants, Majors, Generals and Commissars! In this one! I must know how you keep your troops so uplifted!” The Inquisitor called out to the many squadrons, as each of their respective leaders were taken to the empty ship the Inquisitor was directing them to. Generals and Lieutenants seemed quite prideful, some tipping a hat as though they were given a great reward, the four Commissars of this facility were of the 24th and 32nd, they were sweating, as were the Majors. If put into a cup, all of them could fill it within a few seconds. The many captains, nearly 40 across both regiments, were all staring at her with awe and what could be described as ‘lewd intent’, but it mattered little.

One didn’t stare at her. It was interest that filled his eyes.

The instant the hull closed, the four commissars, generals, majors and lieutenants sat, while the captains stood. She stood near the captains- she was sure several pheromones were wafting in the air from both genders. The Inquisitor began his ‘speech’ that she had heard him practice through the walls of Dauntless Hammer. It was better to describe it as a type of interrogation, presenting several types of flowers that smelled chemically infused. One commissar enjoyed the smell while the others began to dry heave, many more had similar reactions.

“The reason why this is important to me, is because I’ve heard of many things happening on Gighust. A planet that allows heresy to exist without proper punishment,” the Inquisitor continued. She knew who the first target was before he spoke, a war torn Lieutenant that only began sweating when he enjoyed the smell of the flowers. The Acolyte’s movement was slightly stumbled, likely he only now just understood the order he was to follow through on, as a thick blade pierced straight into the Lieutenants throat. 

“That is a kind punishment for hoarding enough heretical tomes to make a demon blush! I’m an understanding man, so I’ll give you all a chance to confess your sins! Bow your heads! You have until he stops moving,” The Inquisitor’s left cheek twitches violently, similar to the convulsing body of the Lieutenant, who was thrashing. The Acolyte didn’t strike through the spinal cord, it is only through the ignorance and lack of vengeance within the Lieutenant that he didn’t take his weapon and try to kill them.

It took approximately 5.9 seconds for his body to fully go limp, 3.5 seconds for half of the room to hit the floor and bow their heads. More than she expected, out of the 38 Captains, only 1 was still standing, but she had a feeling that 4 of them only bowed out of fear and terror. The one that stood confirmed something for her. 3 Commissars did not bow as they watched one of their own be aware of his own sins, one of them even had the faint hint of a smirk on his face.

“Good good! You may be sinners but the Emperor forgives his loyal servants,” the Inquisitor cackled as he took his cavalry sword and decapitated the smirking Commissar. Had he not been sure of his imagined safety, his position could have been advantageous for a seated counter attack. Likely a personal grudge that served as an example to the rest of them, a message that their lives belonged to him. His index finger pointed to several generals and other majors, as Acolyte's shot bolter rounds through skulls. Splashes of it covered the hull, soaking the metal flooring as it pooled. 

“You, why do you still stand Guardsmen? I know every person’s name here, and you are not free of Sin!” The Inquisitor spat out, unraveling his pent up frustrations and blood lust that coated him like miasma. The red haired Guardsman stayed standing as he saluted, no fear in his heart.

“I know that my squad is guilty of Heresy Inquisitor Arquebus! However, I have never personally found interest in the Xenos! If my Squad serves their Emperor, and has not engaged in heretical actions aside from those in their personal imaginations, then I feel I am within my right to trust them! I must trust my troops as they trust me!” he spoke with a certainty that did not belong to a mere Captain. He certainly didn’t stop when the Inquisitor fired a bolter at him.

He only stopped when Brunhild stepped in the way of the bullet, harmlessly bouncing off her golden armor. 

“C-Custodes! What is the meaning of this?! That heretic is spewing grox manure! Move aside!” The Inquisitor’s cheek muscle was stretched so taut that she was sure it had become torn, as the light gasp from the red haired Captain could be heard. Still saluting, no fear from him, but a look of confusion in his eyes. She was sure now.

“He is my charge. You will not kill him,” She spoke with force for the first time since she met him. She merely hopped onto the Dauntless Hammer, and no one would dare try and argue with her, especially not when she demanded to be left alone. The other Captains that had their foreheads touching the now bloodstained floor, carefully looked up to see what was going on. 

“Impossible! You-you were sent to guard ME! ” he shouted in anger, seemingly confused by this new information. The Schola Progenium truly did nothing to stop its graduates from gaining egos. “No. Eronus Satira is my charge. If you or anyone else proves to be a consistent threat, I will cut you down in the Emperor’s name.” Brunhild spoke only truth, even as Acolyte’s had already put their bolters down, terrified to even try to go against the Custodes- yet equally scared of their Inquisitor.

The Inquisitor began to have a childish tantrum, knocking an Acolyte out to process his frustrations as Brunhild merely stood in front of her char- Eronus Satira, that was his name. Until his purpose was fulfilled, she would protect him and ensure his safety. When he was no longer of use to the Emperor, she would leave, such is the role of the Aquilan Shield. 

The scene when they arrived back at the Dauntless Hammer was something most would find amusing, had it not been for several broken noses and busted lips. For all the interest the Guardsmen had in the Abhumans, they didn’t seem to understand pacing themselves, as Brunhild can overhear several Guardsmen getting dragged off by fellow soldiers in arms, proclaiming “Please baby it’s love at first sight gimme a chance!” After getting their face slashed by a male Felinid, who now looked on in horror at the blood soaked higher ups that just connected to the main bay. An Abhuman was barely recognized as a resource, so attacking a fellow guardsmen was grounds for death.

The commissars that lived had no inclination to do anything, likely trying to find ways to turn the situation around and come out of this for the better. Neither the last four generals, six majors, nor the eight lieutenants dared to try anything, and every single captain was trying to hope the Inquisitor was too shocked to render judgment upon them. 

All except one.

“Guardsmen! Have you no shame?! The first chance you have at love on the battlefield and you waste it like simple horny idiots? All of you, apologize on your knees! Beg for forgiveness, and accept any judgment they lay upon you! The Blazing Spears are not useless wastes that can’t even ask someone out, we are his Emperor’s soldiers and by acting like this, we insult him!” His voice rang in the main bay, higher pitched to gain the attention much like a warning alarm, yet still deep to gain recognition as a position of power. She could see the grip on the Inquisitor’s hand tighten, yet she did not need to do anything.

“Yes sir, Captain Eronus!”

A squad replied immediately, having a few scratch marks on some of their gear, which she could tell they made in that instant to try and help their Captain. They had the same numbering on their coats as Eronus Satira did, making it obvious that his previous words from before were true. They prostrated, shouting out for forgiveness, as several Abhumans were taken aback. Several other squads followed suit, before each and every Guardsmen were kneeling down to ask for forgiveness. It was so sudden that even the Inquisitor couldn’t speak, only grind his teeth at his sudden surmounting failures.

A target was on Eronus’ back, yet so long as he fulfilled his purpose, she would protect him. Abhumans blushed deeply while others were still angered, yet they all looked to the Inquisitor, those with sensitive noses terrified at the smells coming out- yet the Inquisitor had to save face, or a mere Guardsmen would show him up.

“As this righteous young man has said, we must be respectful to our fellow Guardsmen!” He began a speech, yet Brunhild could tell they weren’t looking at the Inquisitor anymore, they were looking at Eronus. They saw him, and felt more respect for him than any other. This quickly grew on the Inquisitor’s nerves, yet his grip didn’t intensify beyond a slight flex of the hand, knowing he would be cut down.

Brunhild felt some flavor of interest, at this little human that didn’t allow fear to control him. He would fulfill the Emperor’s will, she knew it.

Chapter Text

Eronus probably should’ve just put a bullet in his head instead of the stunt he pulled. Eronus would’ve been better off getting shot during live fire training instead of actually learning how to be a better soldier. Eronus could’ve stayed ignorant instead of questioning the motives of his allies and betters. There are too many things he chose to do that he shouldn’t have, yet here we are. Promoted to the rank of Lieutenant with 4 captains under his command, and over 80 guardsmen he had to keep an eye on. He was of the lowest rank compared to the Colonels who controlled the 24th and 32nd Regiment, and the Major’s that controlled several Lieutenants and several squads by proxy. 

At least those that were left alive.

Nobody questioned the Inquisitor, even the tough as nails Commissars had barely made more than a whisper of a noise during the exchange. Nobody questioned the blood splattering them all, nor did they try to ask Eronus. Especially not when he was promoted on the spot, what he felt to be augmented grip strength trying to resist dislocating his shoulder. He had made himself a powerful enemy, he wasn’t sure why he felt the need to go against the Inquisitor, just that he needed to! 

Out of all the questions he had, the most simple one was: “Why did they protect me?”

It had a simple answer; he was important to the Imperium. Even the stupidest Ogryn knew that if a giant golden demi-god protected you, there must be something special about you! But Eronus didn’t know what it could be! With the privacy of his own room granted, possibly to increase the odds of killing him by ‘warp taint’ during travel, he could vent out these feelings. Mostly by punching the hull wall until his knuckles bled and his hands went numb from the pain. 

Still, even if he was going to be killed, he had his duties to attend to- namely, ensuring nobody gets pregnant until after they defeat the Cult threat to the Imperium. He had no clue what to do, as his squad- the entirety of Gighust’s new military might, had just gotten in close contact with their wet dreams. 

Hands calmer than a paradise world’s ocean went through his red hair, the blood indistinguishable from his thick locks. Eronus never had a relationship before, nobody interested him, nobody excited him, so was it his inherent lack of raging hormones that stopped him from doing stupid things? No, this entire situation was because he did something irredeemably stupid!  

“You’re an idiot, but you’re a sly idiot. How do you flip this? How do you not get killed before you even see battle? Where do the Abhumans and the Blazing Spears meet in the middle?”

“And how do I ignore the 10 foot golden statue outside of my room?”

With these questions in mind, Lieutenant Eronus worked on a plan to avoid a fate like Lieutenant Herrod, like the Commissar, and like Inquisitor Arquebus. He had no idea how long the Custodian would protect him, so to ensure his life, he needed to act as though they were gone. This would enhance his self preservation instinct, his creativity, his drive. The Custodian was a blessing, but one he couldn’t rely on, even if they saved his life, he had to be self-reliant.

 …

0700 hours, Eronus put on his new uniform that ‘suited his Lieutenant status better’, which was to say it was Lieutenant Herrod’s uniform. He needed to make small adjustments, but it fit him pretty well, aside from the secret pocket he found below the breast. Needless to say, Eronus burned the contraband inside. ‘Sorry Herrod, but you were as bad as the rest of them,’ He thought as he made his way out, doing his best to pretend he wasn’t startled by the appearance of the Custodian standing right in front of his door, looking down at him.

“I can smell blood, be wary of wasting energy,” the Custodian offered their advice to him, and even now he could feel himself being tested. “It was an excess of energy I was relieving, thank you,” he replied in curt response, letting him see that they didn’t recommend he go to a medic, meaning he had treated his wounds properly to the perfect eyes of the Emperor’s personal guard. There was no pride to be had though, it was still childish of him to act like that.

Walking through the halls of cold steel, Imperial architecture, and servo skulls floating along, Eronus didn’t need to turn his head to feel the Custodian following after him. How can someone so big be so quiet? He’d rather they clank against the floor. each step a thunderous rumble, yet it was eerily as gentle as the paws of a kitten. Speaking of kittens, the very first thing Eronus got to see today when he turned a corner was some animal abuse in the form of Jerick hugging the leg of a Felinid man. 

When he entered their view, sharp ears allowing the Felinid soldier to notice him faster than Jerick, he immediately saluted. Jerick on the other hand, didn’t notice him until he was already five feet in reach- yet he just kept hugging the man’s leg, as he smiled. “Hey Eronus! Think you can help a guy out and be a wingman?” Jerick said, this being the second time Eronus saw him in just as many days in this situation.

This wasn’t unusual for Eronus to see from his best friend, a title that he felt was better deserved for other people… but he was still his idiot. Regardless, Eronus hated using his position to reprimand his subordinates. Instead, Eronus went for a new method he thought up last night. With a swift movement of the hand and the leg, Eronus gave a salute as his boot heels touched together, practically parade ready. “Officer Jerick, a blessed morning! Explain why you aren’t saluting and why I shouldn’t castrate you in 30 words or less!” Eronus shouted with an energy that didn’t suit him at all, but immediately made Jerick jump up and salute.

His brown hair was wild, his goatee unkempt, and his lower half saluting as well. Even now, Jerick’s scratched up face wasn’t healed up. With his new position and the slaughter of several members in the Imperial Hierarchy, he really thought Jerick had a bit more sense than to keep testing his luck. Even if the Felinid man might have appreciated the death of the pervert, it would look bad to the squads if he killed his best friend after a single promotion. Now if only Jerick didn’t keep wasting his chances.

“You see I- I was just- well- I can’t be blamed for- you-you know-!” He sputtered out with eyes darting every single direction aside from Eronus’ steely gaze. To bring Jerick back to a semblance of sanity, he spoke firmly, “You have already used up half your words, and more than half of my patience. Speak Guardsmen!” He made no motion to grab his laspistol or to take out his new pike, merely standing his ground akin to the statue that stood outside his room.

The threat seemed to have worked, as Jerick paused, thought about how to fit it, then spoke, “I am a pervert! I have no excuse! Please forgive me Lieutenant Eronus!” his voice cracked from the exertion of his pride being crushed, the Felinid beside him doing their best to hide the satisfaction they felt. The flicking ears and slightly waving tail gave it away. Eronus was glad Jerick managed to confess in less than 15 words, as he adjusted his new cap hiding his crimson locks, “Good man, acknowledge your mistakes. However, you cannot be forgiven so easily. Flogging would do no good, it must be a sentimental punishment. You, your name?” He asked the Felinid pointedly, despite having poured over all their names last night.

“Guardsmen Thomas Unguis reporting for duty!” The man stayed in his saluting position, black ears pointed to the sky, tanned skin that ended in black fur along his hands, yellow eyes that had pupils in slits. He more than likely reminded Jerick of old stories of black cats, and now that childish memory had become corrupted. Thomas was more muscular than Eronus initially thought, which worked well in his punishment.

“Thomas, should Jerick here be forced on Latrine duty for the next two months while being banned from interacting with any Abhumans, or should he try to regain his honor by facing his superior in combat? Perhaps, even be forced to fight against you, to learn some respect?” Eronus teased the idea to Thomas who seemed interested, but at the same time had a bit of apprehension. ‘He thinks it’s entrapment,’ Eronus mused, while Jerick looked like he just saw an Auct, fear evident in his face and even his ‘soldier’ stopping its saluting. 

“If you won’t choose, I’ll settle for the two months-” He started, until Thomas spoke. “If you could fight him sir! I would appreciate it!” The words were hesitant, but Eronus would respect the wishes of the Felinid. He brought out the Arc Pike, a nifty little weapon a Mechanicus handed the training facilities of Gighust around four centuries ago. Since then, it’s become a weapon every single soldier must be trained with- although the higher up the rank you were, the higher quality it became. He’s heard tales of a Blazing Spear Colonel that managed to destroy a daemonic altar with a single stab- probably exaggerated, but it was one of the few things Eronus felt confident in.

“Ca-Captain y-you don’t really-” Jerick began before Eronus took a fighting stance, interrupting him, “That’s Lieutenant to you. You don’t have anything to worry about if you remembered to train. You did remember, instead of thinking with your Spear right?” The new Lieutenant spoke knowingly, Thomas now openly smiling as he watched the two men begin to spar.

….

This little song and dance was repeated about 12 different times as Eronus made his rounds along his section of the ship, having gathered up quite the strange crew. The makeshift Regiment of Abhumans was called ‘The Lost’, a name he knew the Inquisitor was completely complicit in enabling. Still, they took it in stride at least, each one having a much higher opinion of Eronus after he interrupted the ‘light insubordination’ from his soldiers. Still, that meant Eronus had just finished up 15 different sparring sessions, and he wasn’t sure he could’ve handled some if it wasn’t for them being indecent.

To his left flank, there were the defeated soldiers, sporting small cuts and bruises- it was a skill to not kill with the Arc Pike, Eronus never thought he could manage it so well. Granted, his subordinates were all horny monkeys, so the straightforward looks in their eyes made it easy to gauge their movements. Several were still in their fatigues, having had the sense to at least be clothed, while a few were completely naked, save for a helmet covering their private bits. 15 idiots had to fight as punishment, because none of them wanted to be separated from their ‘lovelies’. 

To his right flank, were a handful of Abhumans that seemed a mix of thankful and wary- except for maybe three that were straight up annoyed. Why? Eronus walked in on some ‘skinship’ to varying degrees, be it quivering lips that dripped with natural lubrication or seeing how flexible his guardsmen could be for a Beastman to spit roast them. He was slightly thankful that some of the feelings were reciprocated, or else his soldiers would have committed a crime. Then he’d have to kill them.

“Offy-suh? Are we’s in trouble?” Asked a female Ogryn, something he didn’t even know existed until today. Yam was her name, a big and daunting figure with biceps as big as his skull, having quite the gut on her, but the ponytail and her big doe eyes gave her some charm. It took him a bit of self control to not scar the soldier who tried to convince Yam that she had something ‘sweet’ in her pants, as he shook his head. 

“No. Everyone on the right did nothing wrong. The guardsmen on the left are in trouble,” He explained as simply as he could. Yam thought about it, forgot, then figured it was okay.

“You’s ain’t a Commissar, so why’s ya stickin’ ya nose in business? Tryna get yaself a harem here?” A certain Ratling asked, wearing the coat of another Guardsmen over herself to keep her decent. “Indeed I’m not, but after yesterday I’d rather make sure we conduct ourselves properly instead of giving Inquisitor Arquebus any reason to kill you all. Our regiments are working together, so I’d rather have as many of us alive as possible,” the words came out naturally, even as he was still fighting the stitch in his side where Yam hugged him too tightly. 

“As for a harem, no thanks. I’m the odd one out of my Regiment, so I have no interest,” the red headed saint spoke with confidence, even when the Ratling decided to flash him mid sentence. Nimble body, scars here and there with the smallest amount of pudge on her stomach, even now she seemed ready to jump on a Guardsmen. Nipples harder than ceramite, a flush spreading down her neck and shoulders, with a small river of arousal leaking down her legs. She had a look of smug flirtation when she did so, quickly losing it when Eronus didn’t flinch, nor break eye contact.

“Like I said, I’m not like the rest of my regiment. Please keep yourself covered up, you’ll poke someone’s eyes out,” a curt response that finally got to lessen a bit of the tension in the group in the form of raucous laughter. The Ratling woman blushed deeply with a mixture of shame and rage merging on her face.

“Still… where are we going- Lieutenant Eronus,” Inquired a Pelagor, swiftly correcting his casual tone, looking similar to a shark with deep dark blue splotches along his skin. “You’ll see, for now though just keep following me,” the Lieutenant lied as naturally as he breathed. He was supposed to be meeting with his superiors, but somehow ended up in this situation that he needed to resolve. If he brought them to a Commissar, they’ll be shot dead. If Inquisitor Arquebus found them, they’d all be tortured and turned into servitors.

So that leaves him with just one option.

“Left flank, atten- tion! ” He shouted out without any prior warning, half of them taking a half second to get into formation, while the others tried and failed to keep their decency. “Eyes Left! At Ease!” Eronus barked out as they all understood his orders, while they struggled to do them, namely ‘at ease’. Three soldiers in line that didn’t do as he ordered, Eronus winding his hand up to swipe- leaving a firm print on three pairs of buttocks. The soldiers jumped, predictably moving their hands back to where they’d been slapped as Eronus shouted once more.

“You’re all deplorable, Guardsmen Jerick! Get these fools dressed and prepare for a march! Lost Regiment, find your superiors and do the same! We meet at 1400 hours in the Lower Decks!” His words were so sudden, his actions so intense, and his tenacity so overwhelming that none of them felt inclined to question him, both groups running off in opposite directions, as Eronus waited for them to be out of view- before sprinting and opening up his vox caster. 

…

In what most Hive World citizens would call a ‘break room’, Eronus Satira was giving a speech on what should be done to avoid the death of the Regiment and the Abhumans. Usually in the training facility, there would be untold posters of Imperial Propaganda splattered against the walls. Here, there were only bare walls of cold metal that were idly rusting. He wasn’t sure if each ship of the Imperium looked as lifeless and cold as this one, but the only decor additions were skulls in winding patterns. He was sure at least one of them had been wired with a Servo Skull to record their conversations. Eronus didn’t know if such a thing was possible, but it seemed his superiors shared the same sentiments when he saw several Major’s look up and down the room.

Wooden chairs made out of a fine mesh and filled with cotton as the seating: felt better than any bed he laid on, in the few seconds he sat down upon it. A metal table large enough to sit all of them laid in the middle of the room, feeling more akin to a place for gambling than for military leaders to discuss important business. Either his superior’s took the chairs from elsewhere, or the Inquisitor saw every position besides his own as nearly useless. At least with his new position, he had the authority to command several Captains to begin gathering up their soldiers and Abhumans: enacting his plan before sharing it with the others.

“And you want us to be open about it? That’s your solution Lieutenant?” Colonel Lambo scoffed as she crossed her legs in her seat, drinking a cup of amasec as though it were merely water. Her piercing gray eyes surveyed Eronus for any sign of weakness, her grip on the table causing it to warp from the strength- a replacement hand he believed. He hoped. “I do believe it to be the best plan of action Colonel, we have always been tenuous with Commissars from our history of contraband, however so long as we show appreciation of Abhumans instead of Xenos, I know Inquisitor Arquebus will not be able to call it Heresy. After all, he is the one that brought them here, so it’s likely he intended for it to happen regardless.” A long winded speech followed by a few simple nods of contemplation, the much older Colonel Savium gave his two credits. 

“We’ve always been quite spirited about the unique form of… Outsiders,” he avoided the obvious word, “but even in my old age I can see the wonders of the Abhumans. Perhaps it is the cure for our regiment, and by embracing the urges we can learn to control them.” He ran a hand along his stark white mustache, contrasting against his dark skin, as a Major brought up a hand. “We’re only a scant thousand between our two regiments, a thousand five hundred odd with the Abhumans, the Inquisitor could easily change his mind and shoot us all out into space- or use his Acolytes. Lieutenant Eronus can get off grox free because of his shadow.”

Each eye fell upon him, as the main problem was evident. Eronus was safe. Even though he hadn’t seen the Custodian since he first encountered Jerick, he could feel their eyes on him. “Permission to speak freely Colonel Lambo and Colonel Savium?” The man of the hour asked, both of them sharing a look before giving their respective nods. With their approval, he began again.

“I think the Inquisitor expects us to grow tired of the Abhumans. He kills some of us with what can be taken as ‘his word’, and gleefully taunts us to become animalistic when the Abhumans were introduced. He sees rabid dogs that can be tempted with a piece of meat, or more accurately, a mindless swarm wanting to multiply,” he left the interpretation in the air for a second, as each of them had likely already contemplated the comparison. “He wants to see how easily we can be corrupted, perhaps this is a greater plan to deal with Gighust, to cull those who don’t suit his vision of the Imperiums soldiers. Perhaps, he assumed he could do this because he misinterpreted the Custodian’s actions.”

Savium, Lambo, and the remaining Majors nodded, knowing that attempting to share this with the Lieutenants would easily spread too far. He didn’t trust anyone in this room, but if the truth did get out, there would be fewer candidates to accuse of outing them for their ‘heretical’ concepts. “Two smaller regiments going up against a cult of genestealers, a group known to have biological changes that could be seen as ‘tempting’, to investigate how far up the corruption goes, and how much of Gighust is worth retraining,” Lambo sighed as she downed another glass, this time it caught in her throat for a split second, before passing.

“After the bloodbath we all witnessed, every soldier thinks it’s their last chance to taste a forbidden fruit. Emotional support is far stronger than immediate pleasure, it’s how the… Outsiders,” Savium used the placeholder again, “break loyal soldiers. Hive worlds aren’t exactly the golden standard, if you'll excuse my criticisms.”

“So instead of sheer discipline, we’re going the route of understanding and acceptance? What next, throwing baby showers like frakking nobles?” A random Major called out, earning a small chuckle from Lambo. “We all want a piece of the Abhumans, be it physically or not. Lieutenant Eronus is merely telling us how to conduct ourselves instead of a Commissar doing it- and we all know how they would act,” the statement from Lambo left a shiver in each person in the room. Eronus hadn’t seen the ferocity of the Commissars himself as it would be his first deployment, but the small twitches in his superiors told him it would be beyond his worst imagination. 

“Still, we can’t just let orgies run rampant across the ship, nor have the good Lieutenant spar 985 more soldiers to discipline them,” Savium chuckled, Eronus feeling a small blush gather on his cheeks even if his face stayed stalwart. “I’ll assume you have an idea then, or did you just want to try and see if you could get promoted further?” Asked a Major with a missing eye, Decus his name was, easily half a foot taller than Eronus and strong enough to snap his neck. The Major was one of the few who was innocent of any heresy, but knew better than to act out of his place.

“I don’t just have an idea, I have a plan. It will be quite the parade for Inquisitor Arquebus, and the morale of the crew will be immaculate I assure you,” Eronus gave a salute to his superiors, some looking on with dismissive expressions, while a few did seem interested. That’s all he needed.