Having been approached by the Destroyer, Kesh had thought it could be a good start: not to 'win people over' and then betray them, but to actually find some more comrades in arms who are worth fighting for and alongside.
His squad had been all he knew...blood-oaths forged in the brutal proving grounds...never losing more than one member at a time until today. Now all were gone in heartbeats, cast as insignificant chaff into the tornado of demigods' sibling rivalry.
Although perturbed by the Destroyer's natural face, it only strengthened his own resolve to be faithful to the Legion.
He had thought to call after the veteran, trying to reassure him of his intentions, but knew it would serve no purpose...people were understandably wary. Although Serhiy's responses had left him cold, he saw it was a mirror to reflect his own naivety back at him: the only proof could be in battle and everything else was secondary.
With the rest of the unit already departing on their duties, Kesh replaced his helmet and approached a nearby Legion serf for directions to the armourer and quarters.
Whether it was from fear or just years of service, the human knew not to protest an Astartes’ wishes, leading him through welcomingly stark corridors that were inevitably emptier now due to the casualty roster.
Dismissing the lackey, Tal-Zhen’s former cell was appropriately sparse and quite free from blemish; apparently not one lose his cool when alone.
Pausing for reflection, Kesh didn’t look down on the ones who had been criminals, but knew that he still retained an element of longing for the trappings of his upbringing.
But today had brought it home: nobody cared if he lived or died. There would always be others, just like he had taken Tal-Zhen’s place. The only constants were loyalty and service.
With a brutality he didn’t know he was capable off, Kesh purged the childhood yearnings from his mind. This was now a chance to shine and he would not be found wanting.
Kesh set off to the armoury to have his wargear repaired – perhaps he might meet another from the unit there...
Urgently trying to trace any living relatives of Private Sam/Samuel "Jock" Wilson (Black Watch, No. 6 Commando, UK Army Service ID 2764432, died 10.06.44). Any info/suggestions gratefully received.
"Mockles! Pent on silpen tree, blockards three a-feening. Mockles! What silps came to thee, in thy pantry, dreaming?"
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Last edited by andygorn; 04-05-15 at 09:27 PM.