Well it has certainly been a while, alas we all know what life is like.
Chapter 2: Understatement of the 41st Millennium
2 hours later
"Well sir that was an intriguing turn of events." Came the sing-song voice of Arshiphorus, surprise was clearly etching his voice. Darayavus chuckled in response.
"Indeed, Hormuzd Shahanshah certainly works in very mysterious ways. Alas we should be thankful that we have been given the chance to carry on the defense of his Divine Majesty's realms."
"Did you see the Brythain Major's face Colonel? It seemed he was the most shocked out of all of us."
"I can not blame him Captain, no doubt it is unsettling to suddenly have your fate thrust into the hands of another man."
Arshiphorus shook his head.
"Should we be wary of any ... trouble from him?"
The Colonel smiled.
"Asturias will find it difficult to be under my command; this I do not doubt..."
Darayavus paused and looked into his aide's eyes.
"However I am unwilling to risk a mutiny of the new men just because I will not allow their commander to adapt to my authority. The way of Parsisya after all, is to understand all of the men of Hormuzd Shahanshah's realm; if we don't, what becomes of us?"
"Probably like the more ... forsaken parts of the Imperium no doubt sir."
"Indeed Captain, though I doubt the transition in this case will have no problems. We will have to discuss this with Major Asturias when his men meet us at our temporary headquarters ... I hear theirs got hit by the enemy too badly to be made use of.
"The Emperor really must hate me Malachi."
Grumbled Asturias, clearly frustrated at this most unexpected turn of events. The Brythain Major pinched the bridge of his nose; that early retirement doesn't look so bad anymore
The Sergeant chimed in.
"I hear its not so bad under Darayavus sir. I hear he is reasonable to the men and they adore him. From what I have heard he does not expend his men like a heavy bolter."
"HIS men Sergeant, we can't say the same of what he will do with ours. Emperor knows Gothic is not even their first language, what will his men say of us?!"
Growled Asturias. Malachi spoke next, albeit hesitantly.
"Errrmm with respect sir, are you still ... uncomfortable with the incident in the Basilica?"
The Major's mouth dropped wide open. Then again, Malachi was made his aide for a good reason. However, sometimes his observant nature became somewhat annoying, and now was a pretty bad time for it.
"Emperor no Sergeant! Its about being forced to fight alongside complete strangers. Neither of us have any common ground but service to the Imperium. Too many cultural differences that's the problem."
"Its a bloody joke, that's what it is!"
Bawled Roldo, outrage ever present within his words; a sentiment shared echoed by most of the Brythains in the room. As if on cue a meek, nervous voice joined the bawdy choir.
"I don't see what the problem is guys, so what if we are merged with another regiment?"
Silence descended on the assembled men; they glared bolt rounds at the source of the voice. A young Brythain, no older than 17 had earned the ire of his kin
"Shut up Thedras, don't you even frakking know what that means?"
Said Roldo breaking the silence. Thedras replied naively.
"That we will be serving with other Imperial citizens from elsewhere?"
The older Guardsman pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Typical new-blood, always not understanding the meaning of a frak-up from up high..."
Another Brythain cut Roldo short.
"Leave it be, don't take your frustrations out on the lad, this was the popping of his war-cherry."
He turned to lay his eyes on another squad member. He towered over irked Private, but Roldo was more bulky. Roldo sneered.
"Well then Sathric, perhaps you would care to explain to the new peace of meat that not only does Major Asturias no longer has overall command over us and since we lost many of squadmates, we are likely to be melded with some non-Brythains who don't speak Gothic as a first language. I've even heard rumours that some of these Parsisyans don't even know a word of it."
The taller squadmate simply shook his head.
"I understand that you are vexed with a matter that is beyond your control. Railing about it, now matter how much it displeases you, will not change the decisions of the powers that be."
A slight glint then entered Sathric's eyes. Was it humour? Or revelation?
"Is this because of the fact their men kiss each other?"
"So fate has rolled its dice then?"
Asked Imravashd, stroking his beard in befuddlement.
"I guess so... Still, its a better option then being divided all together."
Replied another Parsisyan, as he polished his akinakes. Imravashd chuckled in response.
"Let us hope they live up to the more positive side of their reputation. If they ever go on a long moan about how much the Divine hates them; I just might be obliged to take Hormuzd Shahanshah's mercy. At least the Bright-Silvers who can't speak Gothic have it easy eh Ashuri?"
The other Private shrugged.
"I doubt it, at least we can understand what they are saying; it has to be worse for those who hear a whining tone yet they can't make any sense of it."
Another voice chimed in, exasperation dripped from his voice.
"Speak for yourself, at least you don't have to get in the habit of speaking the tongue of the wider Imperium on a regular basis."
Ashuri raised her eyebrow.
"Then you should not have volunteered for vox training when we were conscripted dear Haphezdiin. Still I suppose command had to find some use for your big mouth."
The three Parsisyans burst into laughter.
"Someone should put you on another diet, I hear whetstone isn't too good for you."
While the other two were still laughing, a thought crossed Imravashd's mind.
"Divine! I hope their warmer than those Krieg-folk we fought alongside."
"Dear Imravashd, everyone is warmer than the Death Korps. By the Divine, even Valhallens are warmer than them and their world is practically a ball of ice!"