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Good morning, noon, evening, afternoon or night, or whatever time you happen to be awake reading this, not that I really care. I know that people are waiting for my fourth chapter, and again, it's not going to be likely that it's going to come out any time soon. In the mean time Raven, my good, and somewhat weird friend keeps writing. Seriously though, I don't know where he gets his creativity, mine ebbs, and then floods, and I write several stories at once, and than quit. Why? I really don't know, I guess it's because I would rather eat a live mouse than continue something I know wouldn't be interesting to most people. This is my world, a world of fire, mayhem, Halloween, and random stories of almost anything. Please enjoy Raven's next story, or something, his notes make more sense than my pointless rambling. And friends, remember, read in the dark it helps your eyes to grow stronger. ^.^

Authors notes on

Death of a Guardsmen

Hello my friends, its me Blood Raven. But please refer to me as Blood, or Raven. All my friends do. Anyways I hope you enjoyed my story of Death of a Guardsmen. Now you may be wondering why you are reading this before my next story, “Unsung Heroes” And soon you will see. You see Death of a Guardsmen was exposed to be the name of the first chapter on my book. But due to a bit of a error on my part Stray put it as the name of my story. Now I didn't want to be a bother and seeing that the intro would take me a while I decided to make it its own short story. I enjoyed writing the story and getting it into full swing now as I made the next section. I wanted to also show others my little fantasy nexus of worlds. You will soon be introduced to a form of nexus of all the little worlds of literature, video games, books, movies and my own little creations. If I tried to make money off of this I would be sued up the wazoo. But I take my inspiration from them all and I hope you will enjoy my new story set in world war 2, and a few other settings, “Unsung Heroes.”

Unsung Heroes

By Blood Raven 117

Chapter one, The glory of the Unnamed 

   Larnegin was sweating hard. His heart beat like a marching drum on a  parade ground. He heard nothing and only saw ahead of him, at the other end of the ring. Standing there, with his boxing gloves on tight Janeson smiled cockily as he moved his wrist in a insult to him, trying to get him attack. Larnegin didn't budge. Sound was still gone, then like the waves of Vernesta when under them and suddenly ringing out he heard the cheers, the whoops, the sounds of machines working, the sounds of man, woman, and alien working and keeping in peak physical condition.

   All around him Larnegin saw the gathered 10th company of the 10th Vernestan Marines, and a few of the Drill Instructors and Staff Sergeants. Janeson had suggested a nice public match. The two had been practicing their new fighting styles they had been learning, Krav Magra some called it, others MMA, a few just said pain. The gloves were just so they didn't punch in one anothers face. Around them who surrounded him, Larnegin saw Caref, Jard in his “Skinned” or human form. He also saw Larky, Lunie, all of them. He smiled, “What? You getting cocky now?” Janeson asked as they circled the arena.

   At the other end of the training room, he saw other beings. A few tall as a space marine, but distinctly different, were lifting weights, talking, or exercising in other ways. Further along the giant circular room, he saw a grouping of Half Breeds, daemonhosts. They assorted themselves, from the four chaos gods. Larnegin had learned much in his time here about both those groups. The first, the tall humans, were something called Spartans. Specifically a mix of Spartan II's, III's, and even a few dozen Spartan V's. The spartan V's may as well have been space marines, so heavily armored and armed, drawn from the finest men and woman humanities many dimension's had to offer. The Half Breeds on the other hand, were almost opposite, shorter, many varied, some lanky dirty and sick, others bright red like blood and bearing charms, others more emphasized on their appearance, both sick to look at but irresistible to take your eyes away. And finally the more older, wizened looking ones, obviously crackling with contained psychic energy.

   As they kept circling Larnegin saw more, Engineers of the supposed Quarians assisted by Huragoks, or more simply called Engineers, working on the machines of the base. More he saw, Eldar, Tau, Sangheli's, Special operations troops, Space Marines, Sisters of Battle even. Even more he saw storm troopers, Kedesians, Anthropomorphic animal human hybrids of all shapes and sizes, and the best of the best; they looked like a mix of several things, they were about 6'6 feet tall average, they wore skin tight jumpsuits with either camo arrangements, or bright orange. They had hooks, clips, and other pockets and such for equipment. They all wore standard issue combat boots. Some had long hair, or had sheared theirs off. The most visible thing about them was their mask, they all wore a mask that looked a lot like the Quarian's mask, but no tube connections. All of them had thick banks of mist or fog covering their features. Some said that they wear those masks because they will lose their soul if they don't. He didn't think that, but he did admit, they looked menacing. He didn't even know what the Unnamed called them, fitting he thought to himself.

   Then Janeson did his action. Lunging forward he punched for his gut. Larnegin sidestepped, made a counter move to Janeson's face. He ducked down and then tried to sweep Larn's feet from under him. Larn toppled, Janeson descended to make the final blow and pin him. Larn rolled away and Janeson was now off balance. Larn swiped Janeson's legs now and he fell on his face. Larnegin jumped back up immediately. The cheers surrounding them were deafening, like a solid tidal wave of sound, like the Basilisks firing and the triple A bunker being annihilated. Janeson tried to roll away himself, but was stopped as Larnegin fell on him when Janeson was face up. Punching him in the face, keeping his body pinned by his own weight. Janeson blocked with his forearms and then suddenly pushed forward with them like a riot shield almost. Pushing him off they tried to pin each other quickly, Janeson got behind Larnegin and then held him in a headlock. Larn slipped free, being drenched in sweat. Hitting Janeson in the face he knocked his head sideways. Then he kept punching, now on top, focusing himself on just trying to send the other man to unconsciousness. Janeson had no room to block. He was done for and tapped out. The arena's bell rang and there were boos and cheers.

   “That was the sorriest match I have yet seen!” A man pushed his way onto the rink. Janeson and Larnegin jumped up to attention to the tall and muscled man. He cuffed them both on their padded helmets. “What do you have to say you two?” Janeson and Larnegin both looked up to him and said, “We'll train harder Staff Sergeant!” He looked at them both and with arms crossed nodded, “Damn right.” He said to them. “Go to the showers boys.” They both saluted and left the arena to their new supervising officer Staff Sergeant Indrein Johnson. Leaving the arena Larnegin saw the men around him mosh him and congratulate him loudly. Leaving the crowd he met with Janeson at the locker room's entrance.

   A Kedeshian was leaning against the wall next to the door. She had a desk mask up, on the top of her head. Her forearms branded with crosses. She sported long canine fangs like the saber cats of the plains on Vernesta. She smiled at him her K9's almost over sized it seemed, “Saw you and your friend on the rink.” She said jerking her head in the direction of the arena, now occupied by a pair of Sangheli  warriors sparring with wooden swords, the 10th company dispersed to their de facto section of the gym. All in synchronized workout by the Staff Sergeant counting as he did push ups on a raised podium to make sure every one did them right.

   Larnegin nodded and looking to her she went on, “You did pretty good for a beginner, you and your friend there.” Her smiled disappeared, “Names Jackeline. Everyone calls me Jacky.” She extended her large hand out for him to shake. Jacky was a prime and fit specimen of the Kedeshian race. They were once human, and in a way still are, but ravaged by a horrible disease that raised their dead into zombies, they became infected and began to change and evolve. Eventually they realized they were changing, which was when they found the cure to the disease they all carried. After some debate among their leadership, instead of using the cure, they modified it into the next step of their development.

   They had gotten bigger, stronger, smarter, and their bodies more efficient. And instead of cleansing themselves of the disease that made them like this, they used it, and made it better, making N5, the next step from N4, the disease that made the undead. Using it they got even better. Their race also had developed mutations depending on the environment, some had gills, others scales, and even the rare ones had the ability to blend into their environment with their chameleon like skin.

   Larnegin took her hand in his, surprised that she offered to shake in the first place. Her hand was about 1.5 times larger then his. She was around 9 feet tall, towering over him. “My name's Larnegin.” Smiling at her she was intimidating but he had nothing to worry about. She smirked, “See you later kid.” Larnegin looked at her confused, “So you just say 'Hi' Then leave?” She kept walking and ignored him. Shaking his head he smiled at Janeson, “Who was that?” He asked taking his helmet off. Larnegin just shrugged.

   The locker room was mostly empty, a few other guardsmen and woman was dressing or changing. Larnegin went to his locker and opened it. Putting his gear in it he got a towel. Moving to a stall he turned on the shower. He enjoyed the cool water for a moment until he felt a electrical charge behind his right ear. Grabbing the part he opened his mouth in pain no sound's escaping.

Christmas sucks...

Well, this is the month of December, snow, hot chocolate, more snow, and it all bites. To people that have been waiting, I'm sorry, never been good with keeping schedules, ever since I was a little kid, was always late with homework, or forgot to do it, or just both. >///> Anyways, I thought, you know what, I've been bugged by my good friend Raven to post the rest of his chapters, and me, I'm still working on Ch. 4... Don't judge me, I have a horrible memory and creative drive. >.<"  So, what does this have to do with Christmas? Nothing, except we should be celebrating Halloween again, but dressed up all better..ish. And hand out random presents instead of candy, kids would be stoked for that one, I can tell ya that. But, I will give you chapters three and four plus something a little extra, all raw, without me going over that atrocious spelling...I give you... Death of a Guardsmen! Enjoy, and I should come out with the fourth chapter soon...I think.

Chapter III 

Death of a Guardsmen

   Larnegin wondered what poor souls were fighting in the next trench section. Looking out he felt the mud and blood on him drying as he saw the great exchanges of fire. It was madness out there, even as the imperials were slowly forced back they took and gave a heavy toll. Looking around the entire 7th company of the Vernesta Marines waited patiently. In five minutes the rest of the men had formed up taking the trench. But they couldn't stay here, when the mutants realized they were breached they will both bomb the section and send in reinforcements.

   Caref yelled for Larnegin, turning on his heels more smartly then he would have liked himself to do he walked up with his head lower. “Yes sarge?” He said as he drew close. Jard was nearby helping a corpsmen patch up a wounded man and then saw them off as they carried about a dozen men back, hiding in no man's land. Larnegin almost wished he was injured, but fate was not so kind. Caref now spoke after checking his map, “Larnegin, listen. You know what were after right?” Larnegin nodded. He payed attention despite his sleep drained brain during the short briefing.

   Caref nodded, “The AA cannons are just about five miles past their lines, out of our range of our main guns. We can't use any orbital fire or even our longer ranged arty because of the bunkers they hold the guns in.” Larnegin nodded, knowing why they hadn't just blasted the guns already. They had tube charges and D9 explosive putty. With those they could blow the guns and get out alive for the most part.

   Jard joined the pair and smiling said, “Correct. Unfortunately though we will be hard pressed to get this many men in that far without getting seen.” Larnegin nodded, “Too bad we don't have some guys like the Tanith or maybe a scout regiment like the Catachen 945th. Caref nodded, “Too bad indeed. But we make do. Larnegin, get me at least 10 shotguns, Jard mind getting the scouts together as a vanguard?” Jard smiled, “My pleasure.” Larnegin stood at attention and saluted, “Yes sir.” Setting off he called up Janeson and another Vernestan named Larky, “Hey guys. I'm seconding you to help me find some shotguns.”

   Larky was a Ratling. A halfling. A midget. He held his standard sniper pattarn lasgun, wearing a smaller version of the standard Vernestan battle dress, and he was a notorious crook and gambler. But he always returned what he stole. Usually. He was also a black market weapon dealer and he had a pack on his back carrying “Supplies”. Larky looked up and frowned, “Awww no! No, no, no, no, no, no. Not my shotguns!” Larnegin crossed his arms and frowned himself, “Unless you can get about ten more from the troops around and give them a lasgun I'm afraid so.” Larky grumbled and sighing heavily made up his mind, “Fine, but you better reimburse me when this is all over. I better get every last one back!” Larnegin nodded, extending his hand he said to the Ratling smiling, “Deal.” Taking the handshake they had a deal. With that bit of business done Janeson began to help find some shotguns as well, while Larky went through his stash pulling out a pair of cut down shotguns from his bag of merchandise.

   The vanguard, now equipped with shotguns, began to creep forward from the mutant front. Each wore a camo cloak and skillfully moved forward unnoticed. Jard had elected to go with the vanguard, believing it was fitting that he should lead from the front in case it all went sideways. Larnegin was just happy Jard didn't “Volunteer” himself into that mess. Shaking his head Larngein began to move out along with his squad. They couldn't stay out any longer, they had to move on now.

   Larngein and his squad were one of the teams leading the main advance, they would be one of the first to hit any resistance and so they had to be on their upper most guard. Everyone was silent as they crept forward silently and eliminated any mutant patrols or squads they encountered with their knives. The battle still raged everywhere, no where was safe, even where they tread right now,  for all they would know they could get incinerated as a artillery officer accidentally fired at the wrong spot in the line. That would be a hell of a way to die.

   After about a hour of moving forward the combat stopped, falling back the imperials began to withdraw back to their own lines. Larnegin once again felt himself wishing to go with them. But this was how a Guardsmen died. He died in his duty for the emperor of Mankind, sitting atop the golden throne on holy Terra. Suddenly they heard fire ahead. Then their micro beads pipped up, it was Jard. “Sergeant, we have encountered heavy resistance, likely moving to reinforce the line we punched through. Me and the scouts will lead them away-” his bead came up with loud ka chunks as shotguns blasted, “Were going for a secondary position, artillery guns 972. That should lead them away from you.” Caref nodded and ordered all squads to double time it and be careful. They were running out of time.

   Larnegin kept in line and prayed a silent prayer to Jard and the men that they live and succeed. And even more that they live and succeed. Looking back to his friends smiling face he took heart and moved forward diligently. The trenches had mutant dead lining the floor, throats slit and heads smashed. Larky was keeping pace gibbering annoyed. Janeson smiled and hit the little man over the head softly, “Shhhsss, were hunting.” He hissed with a wry smile and a happy eye.

   After about 20 more minutes they saw the guns up close and knew they were drawing close to their target. The guns were massive and searching the sky. Big, heavy, and oppressive they're were horrible sigils, runes, and body parts slathered generously all over the guns. They had been hearing renewed shooting from Jard's forces fighting several miles west, but Larnegin didn't hear the new whistle in the bullets until he saw the leading guardsmen buckle forward. “Take cover!” Instinctively they all did as told, one man dragging the limp form of the point man in cover.

   Larnegin risked look forward and saw a stubber team of mutants. All ready he saw mutants forming up and getting ready to charge them. “Grenadiers to front!” Caref said over the clanking and wet impacts of the stubber and its bullets. The two grenade launchers in the squad went to the front and readied to fire. Then an explosion at the stubber team sent them all sprawling even so far away. What was left was a smoking crater of ruined meat, mud, and steam.

   It encompassed the whole bunker the mutants had been using, blowing out from the inside. It was a confusing sight, but no time to linger on such thoughts of luck or fate as mutants were streaming from the other trenches, some even going so far in blood lust going up about over the trench line. Firing the grenade launchers together killed a dozen on all sides. Suddenly the vox links became mounting with attack reports. Caref yelled out, “Move forward! To the AA guns now! We need to get to them before were overrun.”

   Everyone knew that Caref's words were prophetic as they began to charge forward narrowly evading the crush of CQC with the mutants. Their flame trooper Lunie, also known as “Lunatic”, poured fire forward smiling widely as he put them all to the torch. Wretched screaming went up and the mutants relented a bit, just enough for them to move forward even more. They were at the bunker entrance for the AA guns. Just in sight. So close.

   “Larn! Blast the door! Blast them Larn!” Larnegin snapped out of it. Shaking his head he took out a pound of D9 putty and placed it on the door's hinges and locks. Stepping back lasfire filled his ears as well as the screams of mutants and man. Hitting the detonator the giant metal door had its hinges and locks blown off. Unfortunately the door was still standing upright, and quite comically. The doors wide hinges were scrap and blown apart, as well as the door. Larnegin laughed despite himself, his mind somehow finding it so Emperor damned hilarious.

   Running up to the two ton door he smiled and pushed heavily, soon Janeson, Larky, and a trooper names Carrinton joined in. Laughing for no reason Larnegin felt a loose grasp on his mind like some cent was making him high. The others gave him a strange look and he just shrugged. With the combined assistance of the other troopers they pushed the door forward and it clanged down heavily. Rushing forward with weapons in hands trooper Carrington dropped dead as round whipped through him and his greatcoat seconds after he rushed through.

   Immediately Larky jumped back while Janeson and Larnegin went opposite directions and found cover on the wall or some wooden boxes. The gunfire inside was deafening. The walls were rockcreate, the floor thankfully devoid of dirt. Larnegin clutched his lasrifle and got to a sitting crouch. The mutants didn't have anything heavy but some crude auto guns but they were making a show with. Larky's long las fired and saw a mutant explode in a fountain of gore and viscera. Janeson fired his lasrifle over the lip of is little box in a term affectionately known as blind firing. It did its job in sending the mutants to cover.

   Larnegin took the advantage. Jumping over the wooden box he was using as cover, he had his bayonet attached to his rifle. Finding a pair of mutants he smiled wide as he cut them down with a auto blast of laser fire. A crack, a scrap of dirt, the sound of air rushing around raising his lasrifle. The fighting turned into a tunnel visioned series of pictures and far away sounds. Turning his weapon sharply he turned it on its side blade level with the corrupted flesh. The mutant saw itself disemboweled by his bayonet's sharp edge. Another got up to rise but had a new black mark on its malformed corrupted head for its trouble of rising, the wound instantly cauterizing with the superhot blast of energy going through its head.

   The firing stopped, both inside and outside. The yells continued and the sound of whistling arty was loud outside. At least half a dozen squads began to flood in, firing resumed outside as the rearguard  engaged again. The inner workings door was not sealed and already another breach squad leveled in and began to ready themselves to breach to the inner workings of the Bunker, likely the main chamber. Larngein smiled at his friend once more and together they smiled.

Chapter IV

Death of a Guardsmen

   “FOR VERNESTA!” The whole of the force who pushed in screamed out as they charged into the ill defended base. The few corrupt tech adepts working the triple A were cut down, mutated, blasphemous looking mechanical creatures, tendrils and horns growing from the bodies, the mutants didn't last long as bayonets speared out and killed and killed. Soon many were covered in blood, gore, and other unthinkable things they would rather not think about.

   Larnegin kept pace, with his rifle in hand he fired precision shots and destroyed any opposing force. Soon in less then half a hour the whole facility was cleared. It was not to big, the only defenses seeming to be the turrets outside. Sergeant Caref ordered the turrets occupied and defenses strengthened. The problem here would be to know how to sabotage the guns effectively. Larky began to work with Lunie to see how to destroy the ammo carriage. Janeson went down with his squad to rig the ammo to blow. And Junersan's squad was to start rigging firing pieces to blow and see what else they could do.

   The combat from Commissar Jard's diversion continue for another hour then they saw they were pushed back and heard confirmation from him. Caref sighed, “Were on our own now.” He said into the vox for all. “Lets do this job then get the hell out of here.” They remained untouched for a further 10 minutes. Then they came, and they came with everything they had.

   “Hold the line men!” Sergeant Huolder yelled at his lungs top capacity as he fired down into the mutant hordes coming. “Janeson! How much longer?” Caref spoke in his micro bead, “Longer, we keep finding new rooms and we have to clear-” Caref snapped, “Just hurry! We can't hold out for long, were going to run out of ammo. Rig what you can.” He closed the link. “Larky! Status-” He was cut off himself as a loud internal explosion sounded, “Done sir. We used some of the ammo stores to blow the carriage. Its scrap now!” Larky was coughing out as he and Lunie almost smoked themselves.

   Then the mutants broke in. The door the Marines had to blow to get in had been boarded up with crates, bodies, metal sheets, anything really. The mutants breaking through were annihilated, evaporated waist up from the fire incoming from the guardsmen guarding the door. Larnegin was manning a heavy stubber on the wall. Then the hordes of mutants gave way to something terrible. A Lemen Russ MBT. It was made from the local forges, on it foul symbols and creeds of chaos were painted in filth, shit, and blood. A 8 pointed star sat on the front armor plate of the tank The cannon opened up and Larnegin jumped back just in time to see the gun he just inhabited blown to bits. Several more explosions came from the main guns as firing pieces were blown apart, joints welded shut, pins destroyed, and barrels warped best as they could. It was not enough. It would never be enough. They would die here as fucking sacrificial lambs, martyrs. “No. Not like this.” He said aloud, drowned out by the din of battle.

   The others around him turned to him as he ran down the hall way. He was not trying to run from duty, but find a way to escape for them all before they were killed. The mutants broke in a second door. They were going to be overrun soon. “Sir, we have all the chambers ready to blow. It will be one big bang. It will destroy the whole area!” Janeson's voice piped up. Larnegin knew that they had won, but this was now a question of escape. “Roger. Get up here and help us. Calling in air support.” Caref's voice came over the vox.

   Larnegin got to the end of the hall and the tank was now met with two more of its evil brethren. They all fired and the ferrocreate structure of the AA guns started to splinter. “Sarge! Were not going to last much longer!” Larnegin shouted. A tank exploded out wards as several rockets hit its side. Suddenly hope had arrived. Vendetta gunships. The ships were a standard constructed template of the valkyries. But these were sleeker versions, twin turbines, nose like that of a old military chopper with double cockpits. The nose gun was a heavy bolter. Its wing tips holding rocket pods, its wings also holding many more weapons, lascannons, and a hurricane bolter turret on the lead ship.

    The wave of ammunition and laser beams annihilated the tanks in formation. The bolters from the strafing run killed hundreds of the mutants. But there were still hundreds more mutants then they had ammo for. A third hole blew in, and even more mutants poured in. This was it. They were going to die even with the air support. Then the unexpected happened. A daemon host appeared.

   He fell in the middle of the AA complex, a burning comet from space. The whole complex shook hadn't he mutant horrors outside seemed quiet and they looked on. Suddenly, on the entire planet he knew, all fighting had ceased. Looking at the thing, he clutched his gun tight to his chest in fear, knuckles white in grip. His breathing stopped as he looked upon its form.

   Its head was the most iconic visage. Looking upon the helmet first he had a old looking, well kept helmet. It had a spike on the top, like some old Germanic soldier from a war on old Earth not to different from the kind they were fighting now. The spiked helmet looked technologically advanced but corrupt looking almost. Next its face, it had innumerable scars and wounds, it was a sickly green tinge, with sores and pus spewing from under his chin strap, but his eyes were crystal blue, a sad blue of the ocean, a clean place.

   On his shoulders he held two giant Vox speakers, almost grafted into his skin it seemed. They were rusty and old but they obviously worked well. His clothes were old, grubby, dirty, and sick with disease. On his chest however was emblazoned in foreign letters, “DONOVAN”. The thing smiled grimly and standing from its kneeling stance. He wore a heavy black sickly looking duster over his armor that had its odd looking letters. His pants were standard army fatigues, and boots were polished with filth that was exposed to be boot polish it seemed.

   It looked on to the frozen scene around him and he raise a large caliber pistol and fired at a mutant sending its  form to pink black and green pus filled mist. Then the speakers started to blare with a song that restarted the war across the world with a new fervor. The song dirged out with a heavy beat, beaitn against his mind, then the lyrics,“I like the way you talk, I love the way its loud.” “No one understand the fuck I am about!” It kept going out. The host yelled out the lyrics himself enjoying the words as he fired his pistol at any who approached him, mutant or guardsman. He walked out of the crater he had formed and Larnegin knew with certainty he was after him.

   The song flowed out and shook the entire building, dust came down from the blasphemous walls. Larnegin tried to run truly now. The men kept fighting, he ran past them all. The mutants scaled the walls, climbing through a fire port in front of him Larnegin yelled out and cut the mutant's throat and chopped off a tentacle then a arm. It stalled him enough for the thing behind him to get up the stairs. The music flowed out more loudly, he helped the guardsmen almost. The song in low gothic inspired them in a way to fight harder. But it was not going to be enough to survive. Already the mutants had thousands dead outside the walls, and more were coming, but they were going to die in droves, they maybe weaken the line to get them. He tried to run but then a piece of masonry in-front of him was blown apart by a tank outside.  Caref was now yelling for arty support, the men then began to sing along with the song and in a great chant it seemed they took to heart and repeated it out in resistance.

   Donovan as Larnegin was now going to call the daemon walked up to him, “Larn!” Janeson's voice was heard over the yells and he fired at the thing infront of him. Donovan didn't even flinch from the wound form the lasers. Larnegin aimed his rifle at the thing but he could not pull the trigger, “So, mister important. Time for you to meet your fate.” Explosions rocked the whole complex. The vendetta gunships flew away and artillery pounded away at the base.. Masonry rocked, banners fell, and a bright blue milky orb was raised by Donovan. All of the essence of those who died around was absorbed willingly into the orb. “So mister Larnegin. You shall join me in a quest the galaxy has to offer. No excuses.” Larnegin was about to scream to him to go to hell, but then the explosives from below were detonated, and the entire 10th company, of the 10th Vernestan Marines died under the guns of the Basilisks. And all the while Donovan collected their souls for a greater purpose.

Death of a Guardsmen

Epilogue

   Larnegin awakened. His body sore, his skin felt like it was grown and muscles atrophied from unused. Just slightly, like his body had been grown from a vat or something like that. Groaning he felt tired, wondering where he was he was blinded by white light. Maybe hew as in a medicae temple or even a forward post in the trenches. Last thing he remembered was, a horror before him, and then the whole building exploding form beneath. Looking up he was in a chair. His clothes replaced by white pants, and a white shirt, hand woven, warm, comfortable, big.

   This was strange. Looking around the room it was all white, the table in front of him white as well. There were no visible windows or doors. He felt his head and was clean shaven and his hair cut to his specifications. His PRIVATE specifications. He also had the feeling of being well fed and taken care of. And no scars on him at all besides his old combat ones.

   Looking in confusion suddenly a door formed at the other end of the table. It opened from a unseen crack. Opening a woman, old, but beautiful, with a plaid skirt, lab coat, and a pair of glasses sat down with a heavy file at the other end of the table. She began to read. After about ten minutes Larnegin spoke up, “Um, whe- where am I?” He looked at her feeling her presence was a strong one, something that had lived long and hard.

   After another minute she wrote something down on a notepad with a pen and looking up removed her spectacles. “Larnegin Parenza, Corporal, newly promoted not even two hours before your death on the planet-” She looked down on her notes, “Sigma Seven Fourteen. Recovered by Agent Donovan all your company's men. Even agent Jard it seems. Your greatest achievement was the destruction of triple A platform charlie on the planet, with the death of your company you saved thousands of lives and opened the way for Imperial control and survival in the sector.”

   She smiled at Larnegin, “Your a very good soldier. Smart too.” Larnegin was speechless. Looking at her he found his voice, “De- death?” He asked. She nodded and smiled grimly, “Yes..... You see, men and woman, human and Xenos, do not go to their gods. No. We collect their souls.” Larnegin was speechless. “This can't be-” Suddenly Jard entered behind from the doorway, in full resplendent regalia. But he had the face and body of a daemon, like that one before. Larnegin tried to stand but was to weak, “Larn, glad you awoke.” He smiled, teeth razor sharp and his tongue forked. The medal of a Commissar was proudly displayed with no regret. It was untarnished, unmutated, pure and clean as the soul of any other commissar.

   “But.....” Jard nodded, “I know, surprising. You see I was taken a long time ago, before even your great, great grandfather was born. I died in the battle of Epsilon Eridani. But that was long ago, now it is time for you to be told of the truth. All of it.......”