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“Penitence is going to be pissed.”
Juneau cracked an eye open. He was drowsy from magic and medication--and from the sweet reprieve from pain, which had been a constant in his life for the past week. Much of that time had been spent in a Southern Icefield healer’s hut, waiting until he was well enough to be moved to the Sunbeam Ruins.
Now he was home, snuggled deep beneath hospital blankets, watching Isaiah run through charts and check his IV every few minutes, but he felt more restless than ever. The prospect of facing his mate was a daunting one; he almost felt he would have rather fought the Dominus a second time. He supposed Isaiah was trying to comfort him, in that funny way doctors did, and Juneau didn’t have the heart to tell him that it wasn’t working.
“I know,” he said instead. “Has he been informed?”
“Dreamweaver has gone to Aphaster lands to inform him personally,” Isaiah replied. Juneau groaned. “You were gone for a week, and no one knew what had happened until you dragged yourself back from the Icefield. I think some level of formality is called for.”
“He’s going to think I’ve died,” Juneau moaned. “Oh, he’s going to get so many awful ideas in his head.”
“To be fair,” Isaiah said, “you broke just about every damn bone in your torso and punctured a lung. If that healer had been any less skilled, you probably would be dead now.”
Juneau had received the same lecture a dozen times already, but Isaiah would likely never let him live it down. “It wasn’t my intention to end up in critical condition,” he mumbled. “I knew I wouldn’t escape the confrontation unscathed, but this was a bit...”
“You could have avoided it by bringing Dreamweaver along,” Isaiah said.
“There wasn’t time,” Juneau insisted, “and they might have killed Winter if I hadn’t gone alone. Isaiah, you know me; I was ready to lay down my life for my pupil.”
“Is that what you’re going to tell Penitence when he gets here?”
Juneau burrowed deeper under the blankets, trying to hide his sheepish expression from view. This must have been how Tau had felt not so long ago. Truthfully, he had no earthly idea what he was going to tell Penitence. He knew what his mate would say: “Why didn’t you take me with you? Why didn’t you tell me?” He didn’t have satisfactory answers to those questions yet.
“I just hope he can forgive me,” he murmured. “I wanted to tell him, after I told the founders, but--but then everything spiraled out of control.”
The sight of tears glistening in Juneau’s eyes made Isaiah’s entire body stiffen uncomfortably. He busied himself with Juneau’s IV again. “Well,” he said, “he loves you, so I’m sure he’ll just be glad to see you in one piece.”
“I know he does,” Juneau sniffled, “and I--I love him too. I love him so much...”
Juneau had always been the emotional sort, but Isaiah reckoned the meds were getting to him well and proper now. He’d be a weepy mess when Penitence arrived, and perhaps that would temper the old codger’s foul mood a bit. After all, no one could resist their mate tearfully professing their love for them.
He wondered if he ought to tell Juneau he’d bumped his dosage up just the slightest bit...
A knock came at the door, and the thought was dismissed. “Enter,” Isaiah called, “but not if you’re here to cause any mischief.”
“That’s my brother’s forte,” Winter said as he stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind him, “not mine. He’ll be along shortly to pay his respects, though, so don’t worry.”
“I hate your brother,” Isaiah said, “and I want you to know that.”
“I do,” Winter assured, “and so does he. It’s his crowning achievement.”
“If he weren’t the founders’ son, I’d...”
Winter took up residence in the chair at Juneau’s bedside while Isaiah grumbled under his breath about the clan’s up-and-coming young heir. “How are you feeling?” he asked. “You’re crying; did Isaiah bully you?”
“A little,” Juneau confessed.
“I’ll tell Phantasos,” Winter said. “He’ll give Isaiah a bit of extra hell.”
“No, no,” Juneau said, “don’t. He’s taken such good care of me, and, really, he has every right. I was reckless.”
“You were,” Winter agreed, “but you rushed headlong into danger for my sake, so I can’t be too cross about it. Father is still trying to come up with ways to thank you.”
“Tell him not to worry,” Juneau requested. “I did what I did because I love you.”
Winter’s face flushed; he popped his collar, but it did nothing to mask the bright red of his cheeks. “I know that,” he said. “You’ve always been like an older brother to me, so of course I know that. Still, what you did--it deserves some recognition. It’s not every day you save someone’s life and dismantle a dictatorship.”
“I suppose not,” Juneau conceded modestly.
Winter glanced around the room, and, noting the absence of another very particular visitor, crinkled his nose. “Penitence isn’t here yet?”
“Don’t get him started on that again,” Isaiah chided.
“Is that why you were crying?” Winter asked. “I’ll drag him here myself.”
“I’m not crying because he isn’t here yet,” Juneau was quick to clarify. He knew his student very well, well enough to know that he held a nasty grudge. Winter had always gotten on well with Penitence, but that could change at the drop of a hat. “Dreamweaver’s gone to fetch him,” he added, “so please don’t get yourself all riled up over nothing.”
“Well,” Winter said, “I didn’t think he was the type not to visit his mate in the hospital, but you never know.”
“He’s just worried about how Penitence will react to this mess,” Isaiah informed. “Partially my fault; I brought it up.”
“So that’s what you bullied him about.”
“I wasn’t bullying him!”
“It’ll be fine,” Winter said. As usual, his confident tone put Juneau at ease. It was hard not to believe whatever he said, when he said it with such certainty. “Penitence would fight the Eleven for you. I’m sure he’ll be miffed for the same reasons I was, but I got over it, and so will he. Honestly, you’re lying in the hospital smashed all to pieces, and that’s what you’re crying about?”
“I just love him so much,” Juneau defended weakly.
“We know,” Isaiah said. “Gods, we know. We know you love Penitence, everyone within a hundred mile radius of the territories knows you love Penitence. You love Penitence, we know.”
“Do...do I go on about it that much...?”
“Yes,” Isaiah and Winter responded in unison.
“Oh, enough about that,” Juneau said irritably. His expression softened the next moment. “How are Vadim and the others getting on?” he asked. “I assured them they would be welcome here, but that was presumptuous of me.”
“Of course they’re welcome,” Winter replied, and Juneau visibly relaxed. “Father’s helping them get settled. I think they’re all a bit culture shocked; they kept looking ‘round the square like they’d seen a ghost.”
“None of us...” Juneau chewed his lip. It was infuriating, that the memories still pained him so, that even in death, the Dominus’ iron grip on him had not lessened. “None of us could have ever even imagined a place like this one,” he said bitterly. “That--that hell was all we’d ever known. The Dominus wanted us to believe that clans like Feldspar didn’t exist. It made us easier to control.”
Winter’s fingers closed around his, and he felt the anger seep from him all at once. “They’ll be happy here,” Winter promised, “and safe.”
“I know,” Juneau said, “I just worry.”
“Slow down! I told you he’s all right, didn’t I?! Excuse us, sorry, please excuse us--you’re making a scene!”
“Sounds like Penitence is here,” Isaiah said, and promptly stood. “Good luck. I’ve other patients to see to. Winter, Banrai could probably use your help with the newcomers, so why don’t you...?”
“Oh.” Winter stood as well, but was stopped by Juneau, who clung desperately to his wrist. “What do you expect me to do about it?” Winter asked, tapping his foot impatiently. “He’s your mate. I’d only make things worse by taking up for you. I’m trying to be the responsible one here.”
“I-I don’t know what to say!” Juneau cried.
“That you love him,” Winter said, “and that you’re sorry you worried him.”
“But--but--”
“Hello, Penitence,” Isaiah said, slipping out the door and into the hall. “We were just on our way out. He’s all yours.”
“Isaiah,” Dreamweaver groaned, “don’t encourage him. Keeping up with this drake is a nightmare; I don’t know how Juneau does it, let alone poor Artha. I had to chase him all the way from Aphaster, and...”
Winter seized his chance. While Juneau was distracted, staring wide-eyed at the door, he wrenched free of his mentor’s grasp and darted across the room. Then, grinning, he joined Isaiah in the hall with one final, teasing, “Have fun.”
Juneau threw the blankets over his head.
@nostlenne
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PART III: A Hot Cup of Tanna
'Wait sir, where's our Imperial fleet? Don't we have the high-ground sir? I mean shouldn't our fleet be swatting the tau dropships out of the sky?'
'Uh?' said Cumberland doing a double take, but thinking said, 'Damn good point Private Deely! That's what I'd like to know. Exactly where the hell is our fleet?'
The Lieutenant and Kegit now came up and stood beside the Commissar and Deely. Crispin still was a little groggy, but Kegit was looking pale and wan, her bandages soaked red with blood.
'Benidicto, I don't think Billie can go on much further. What do we do now?'
'Well, Divisional HQ is south-east from here. Umm, and General Toragawa and the main force are in the city; which may be surrounded shortly?' replied Cumberland as the pain from the burns on his face began to throb. 'Ugh, that hurts.'
'Begging your pardon sir, but the Tau will take a surrender won't they? I mean you were once a P.O.W. of theirs yourself weren't you? I mean to say they're humane aren't they sir?' Crispin looked worried as she was helping Kegit to sit down on the ground. 'Oh damn Billie almost fainted! What do we do now?'
'Deely, stay with Kegit,' ordered Cumberland.
'Yes, sir.'
Taking the Lieutenant to the other side of a commode Cumberland turned and said, 'Marta, I don't think we can surrender to these tau?'
'What?'
'There are ten or twelve...maybe fifteen bodies up top that were beheaded. They were all on their knees with their hands bound or tied behind them. Whoever these Tau are, they sure as hell don't like us gue'la,' said Cumberland.
'Bloody-hell Bendicto!'
'Roland, you can call me Roland,' said Cumberland wiping his face with the one dry corner of his red sash, not covered in sewage. 'Marta all my friends call me Roland.
'Oh, thank you...I'm Marta by the way. My mother calls me Marta. So does my sister and my dad...'
The Commissar shook his head and slapped the Lieutenant on the shoulder, 'Alright Marta...Didn't know that was your name?' Now looking over at the other two guardsmen he asked, 'What do we do with Kegit?'
'Look sir the bluey's helmet turned black,' said Deely looking intently at the long curved Pathfinder helmet. He was now sitting between two of the latrines with Kegit's head in his lap.
'What?' asked Cumberland taking helmet.
'All their armour has turned black. Do all bluey armour do that sir? I mean, turn colours after they're dead?'
'No. This must be that tau version of a cameleoline camouflage again,' replied the Commissar. 'Hmm, black's most likely just the armour's base colour,' he said tossing away the helmet.
'They're-not-going-to-drop-on-top-of-us-are-they-Com-commis-sar?' asked Kegit pointing weakly at the sky.
'You mean the tau battle suits? No Kegit, they'll all land west of here. Probably close to the river. How are you doing?' asked Cumberland checking her pulse.
'Not-good...feel like a pile of squig sh-t.'
'She's sweaty and pale. Rolan- I mean sir, she's going into shock!' said Crispin wiping the soldier's face.
'Correct, and her pulse is high too. We've got to find a safe place where we can get an IV into her.' Then looking around Cumberland said, 'Alright lets head back down the north-west trench. There's a dugout where we can find a large aid kit...well there should be one there any way. Here Deely help get Kegit on my back...'
And with Deely's help Cumberland hoisted Private Kegit on to his back.
'Bibbitty-pop and off we go Billie!' and with that Cumberland carried Kegit pig-a-back down trenchline from whence they had just come.
With Private Deely on point leading and Lieutenant Crispin as rear guard, they picked their way carefully over the fallen firewarrior and guardsmen. Making their way to where the communication trench separated into a two different forks, they turned left scurried up the north trench. The Communications dugout turned out not where Cumberland thought it was on the immediate right after the fork, but instead was much farther up on the left.
The skies had become cluttered with smaller tau aircraft picking off the remaining Imperial fighters.
'What's the identification of tau aircraft Deely? Razorshark or Sunshark?' asked the Commissar.
'Unable to confirm identity sir,' answered Deely.
'Wrong answer private,' yelled Crispin.
'What is the correct answer then Lieutenant,' asked Cumberland turning about to arch an eyebrow at Crispin.
'NFC - "No Frakking Clue", sir!' answered Crispin shouting from behind.
Then somewhere above them a Valkyrie’s luck ran out and exploding in a spectacular fireball threw flaming bits of debris across the sky. The flaming bits then stared coming down like fiery comets all about them. The four scurrying even faster up the trenchline.
Reaching the dugout, Cumberland and the semi-conscious Kegit had to wait a fearsome couple of minutes, while Deely and Crispin removed the bodies of Comm team and Tech Priest. A big chunk of wing slammed onto the top of the dugout, just as Cumberland with Kegit cleared the blast door, then Deely slammed it shut. Shutting the door activated the automatic light source or ALS, which flickered a moment before staying on.
The pre-fab dugout had been hit by a photon grenade, and except for the Tech Priest whose throat had been slashed, there was little of any spilled blood. The large voxcaster unit had taken a direct hit from a pulse pistol and was still smouldering when they entered. Additionally the field voxphone had been smashed and its wires cut.
'Damn blueys sure knew what they were doing,' remarked Cumberland as Crispin helped him put Kegit down on the lower cot of the dugout's single bunk bed.
'Ma'am I located the medi kit,' said Deely.
'Slide it over here and I'll get an IV line started on Billie. Get the blankets and pillows off the top bunk and prop her feet up. But Deadman first get her boots off.'
'Deadman?' said Cumberland emptying out a satchel bag a putting his peaked hat into it.
'Oh, that's my lucky name sir! I'll catch shrapnel, take a round, or twist an ankle, but I don't get killed. I've come through more engagement unscathed than I can remember. Oh I get bruised up, but I always walk away. Sir, I once walked away from an assault by Mega Nobs, the only one left live out of a platoon of fifty. Been called "Deadman" ever since,' said Deely tossing aside Kegit's boots.
'Let me guess someone said, "You should be dead man Deely!” right?' said Cumberland strapping on a carapace chest piece.
‘Yes sir that's it!'
'Here Deely help me hang the IV bag, got the catheter in and the line going,' said Crispin kneeling down next to the bed as she taped down the IV line. 'He does walk away from the worst scraps Roland! What are you doing?' asked Crispin turning to see Cumberland adjust the liner on a plastisteel helmet before putting it on and snapping together the chin strap.
'Getting ready to make a break out to Divisional HQ. So who's going with?' replied Cumberland now re-buckling his sword and pistol belt.
'Well, who do you want to go with you?' asked Crispin.
Hmm, well Kegit can't go…'
'Roland, I just gave Billie an injection of morpha, so I'll stay here with her...' said the Lieutenant.
'No, ma'am I'll stay back. No use in us both sitting here waiting to be picked off by the blueys. And 'sides, the blueys ain't taken prisoners these days are they ma'am? Saw 'em kill those guard what had their hands up…'
'No, well I suppose not Deadman,' said Crispin. 'Are you sure?'
'Yes ma'am.'
'Well, you’re with me then Marta! Now let's see if we can't scare up some hot tanna, eh?'
'Oh, the pot's over there, if the blueys didn't nail it when they shot the voxcaster,' threw in Deely.
'Ah, right you are Private, and it's unscathed too!' said Cumberland starting to scrounge around for cups and condiments.
'How'd you know where it was Deely?' asked Crispin taking a hot cup of tanna from Cumberland. 'Two lumps of sucrose please…'
'Unreconsituted dairy product?'
'No, thank you.'
'Um, Wireless Operator Phillips was a mate of mine ma'am. Uh, he and I shared a cup 'fore I went on duty this morning,' said Deely with more than a little sadness in his face. Looking up he said, 'None for me sir. I'm a recaf man myself.'
'You just said you shared a cup with Phillips this morning?' said Cumberland dropping a lump of sucrose and a heaping spoonful of unreconsituted dairy product into his cup of tanna.
'It's a metaphor sir,' answered Deely looking Cumberland in the eye.
'Ah, well yes a metaphor.'
'How about cracking open a box of V-rations then? I know it's well past luncheon,' asked the Lieutenant.
'Well, guess I should remove my plastisteel and make myself comfortable, if I'm staying for luncheon,' said Cumberland grinning.
And with that they broke open the box of standard V-rations and dug into the tins of passed for food in the Astra Militarum. Once they'd eaten, they finished by mashing the empty tins and storing them in the proper waste container. The Lieutenant and the Commissar then got up and readied themselves for the journey.
Cumberland checked all the field maps that were still intact and available; while Crispin loaded herself with as many las clips, grenades, and individual medi kits as she could carry.
'So you’re alright staying then Deely,' asked Cumberland looking over a map.
'Yes, sir. And I know the drill if it looks like the blueys are going get us.'
'And what drill would that be Deadman,' asks Crispin loading up a medi pack.
'You know the usual, "One - put the frag grenade to the chest. Two - pull pin, allowing safety handle to fly clear. Three - lay down on top of the patient so that the denotation kills self and the patient." Right sir?'
'You sound like you're a real pro at this Deely. How many times have you done it, may I ask?' said the Commissar folding up the map.
'Oh, I don't rightly know sir? Um, twenty or twenty-five time maybe?' replied Deely, but then looking embarrassed he added, 'Well, alright sir, maybe it's more like a dozen times, well...at least five or six times for sure.'
The Lieutenant and the Commissar both looked at each other and then back at Private Deely.
'I died each time though. Killed myself and the patient each and every time!' he said confidently.
The Lieutenant and the Commissar both broke out in laughter.
'Why are you laughing? Don't think I killed myself all those five times?' laughed Deely unable to keep a straight face.
'Ready Commissar?' asked Crispin.
'Ready,' replied Cumberland strapping on his plastisteel. 'Take good care of our Private Kegit will you Deadman?' he said shaking Deely's hand.
'Yes, thanks for looking after her Deadman,' said Crispin also shaking the private's hand.
'May the Light of the Emperor be you! ma'am, sir,' said Deely.
'And may the Light of Emperor be with you! Deadman,' said Cumberland and Crispin together.
Deely stood by the door, while Cumberland and the Lieutenant readied their lasrifles, Deely then grabs the handle and flings open the door. The Commissar pops his head out scans the trenchline in both directions. 'Let us then skedaddle forthwith Lieutenant,' says Cumberland with a nod to Crispin, who nods back. They both rush the door, turning left and move fast up the trenchline. Deely slams shut the blast door behind them.
Moving quickly they came to a junction where the trench turned right, they stop at the access ladder in the corner. Taking hold of the access ladder, Cumber turns to Crispin and asks, 'Ready?'
'Ready,' she says and both of them go over the top.
That’s when the munitions dump exploded.
There was an incredible sound, like a hundred steel drums being simultaneously struck at once with a hundred sledge hammers. The shock wave hit Crispin and Cumberland hard, and even though they are low to the ground they're knocked off of their feet. They cowered between a burned out entrenching servitor and the destroyed number two flak battery. A vast column of smoke and flame raced skyward forming an immense mushroom cloud.
'BY-THE-THRONE!' cried Crispin.
'BLOODY DOUBLE DAMN!' shouted Cumberland.
'HEAD BACK TO THE DUGOUT?' yelled Crispin into Cumberland's ear.
'NO POINT! MUNITIONS ARE BLOWN,' yelled back the Commissar. 'MIGHT AS WELL GO ON, EH?' he shouted.
Then scrambling to their feet, they rushed to destroyed flak emplacement, only to drop down again, as unexploded Earthshaker rounds began to drop all about them. They huddle together as the falling rounds start tearing up the earth, the trenchline, and wrecked vehicles alike. Sometimes the falling round was an Earthshaker, sometimes a Hellfire missile, and once several mortar rounds fell all together at once. Great geysers of earth shoot up all around them, and the air is filled with the heavy scent of cordite; which mingles with the acrid scent of promethium. A few white phosphorous incendiary rounds fell nearby, creating white anemone like explosions, the ends of which burn with a purple-white radiance.
'How far do you think we got Roland?' shouts Crispin her face next to Cumberland's.
'One hundred to one hundred and twenty metres maybe?'
Another tremendous explosion, and the two huddle even closer together.
'Sorry about Sergeant Freeman.'
'What? You knew about Martinez and me?'
'Of course I did. You loved him didn't you?'
'Yes. Yes I did,' said Cumberland with pain on his face. 'Sorry about Private Huxley.'
'Roland how did you know about Albert and me?'
'Really Marta? The same way...'
An explosion threw giant clods of earth on them.
'…The same way you knew about Sergeant Freeman and me!'
'Oh, well alright then.'
'I need to say something Marta. If I don't survive today...' shouted Cumberland taking Crispin's hand in his and looking into her eyes.
'Yes Roland,' she shouted back.
'Marta, I never in all my life have I loved anyone more than Martinez! None one ever! I never loved a man more…in all my entire life!' shouted Cumberland his ice blue eyes tearing up.
'Ah…alright sir?' returned Crispin.
'About you Marta? Did you love Albert?'
She paused as another explosion went off nearby.
'Um, well...maybe I just loved his Roboute Guilliman?'
'What?'
'His Roboute Guilliman! You know what I mean? For boy his age he was...you know!'
Another explosion.
'WHAT? We're about to die, so I tell you how much I loved Martinez. And all you can say is how much you loved Albert’s willie!' yelled Cumberland.
'YES ROLAND, YES!' shouted Crispin angrily.
'HE WAS JUST SEVENTEEN MARTA!' he shouted back.
Yet another explosion covered them in dirt and grass.
'That's a charge of sexual exploitation of a minor, a charge of fraternization with a subordinate, not to mention an abuse of your authority…'
And still yet another explosion.
'...As an Imperial officer in the Astra Militarum!'
'Sorry, I just loved his willie! Maybe Roland I just don't have the moral backbone you do!'
‘Never trust a ginger is what I always say!’
‘Aggh!’
The two officers then turned their backs to each other and huddled separately.
Then silence.
'I think it's over Roland?'
'Been five minutes since the last falling shell...hmm? Better have a lookie-lookie then?'
Cumberland crept up and looked over the sandbags, but saw no more falling munitions; though the munitions dump was still burning fiercely and there was still the occasional explosion.
'All clear Lieutenant. Righty-oh shall be on our way then?' said the Commissar sliding down next to Crispin.
There was a change of light as if someone's shadow fell over them, and a loud voice said, 'Hoi, Hoi snae'ta gue'la!'
Then both them felt a crushing weight on their backs, as something slammed their heads down into the earth.
'Ahh…By-the-Throne!' groaned Crispin.
'Bloody…double damn!' grimaced Cumberland.
‘Err…what’s that’s on my back?’ asked Crispin wincing.
‘Looks like…arrgh…a large hoof…perhaps,’ grunted Cumberland. 'And me?'
‘You too…Roland,’ said Crispin through gritted teeth.
‘What’s…ugh…got-my-head?’ asked Cumberland in pain.
‘Looks like a…burst cannon.’
‘You’ve got…one as well.’
'Snae'ta, ui’ts’e, alag’ki d'gue'la!’ said the voice even louder.
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