Okay, so my first fiction into the 40k world. Comments and critics well accepted. Note, that I'm not used to write stories in english, this is sort of a test-ground for the skill.
Darkness. Somewhere, up there was his ceiling. Why did he got up? He couldn't remember. Ah! Yes! A bad dream. Not really a nightmare but it was bad. It was about his last day at school.
Kara was sleeping beside him. Again, why did he got up? The microbead in his ear clicked, loudly enough for him to wake up, but unnoticed by Kara. He pressed his flake and answered quietly to the call. Then he looked at the clock on the wall. It was past nine in the morning by Imperial Time. He was late.
Silently he got up and found his underwear. Then he went out into the living room which also was the hall. White, metallic walls reflected every bit of a light that shined from data-screens and other electronic devices left in sleep mode.
He took his suit from his closet and then, after throwing it on, he walked to the wall. Click! An almost invisible button gave up under his touch and a wall panel slid open. There were two sets of armor here, but the one that belonged to him had the Imperial Guard Cadia-pattern helmet. He clipped the breast portion in place and started to put on his boots, when a dim, blueish light came on. This was the night mode he asked the engineers to install. He turned around.
Kara was standing in the door to the bedroom with her hand still on the light-switch, yawning.
- Were are you goin'?
She asked in a sleepy manner. He ended putting his boots on and started to do the same with his backpack, gloves and pauldron.
- I'm late. Boss wants to bite my ass off. She just can't find a common tongue when I'm not around.
- Oh... Okay. I'll meet you at the mesa later, okay? I need to drop Lemy at the education center before I'll attend to my duties.
- No problem, Kara . See you there. Oh, and give Leman a hug.
He got out and started walking down the corridor. Lots of doors with baddly spelled names of locators, but it resembled his flat. White, sterile and alien in comprehension with his former life.
He thought for a moment of Kara and Leman. They were from the same regiment, but they have met already here. What where the odds? That there will be no fracking commisars around and they'll have easier life. Not long after they got here she obviously have fallen for him. He wasn't really interested in romantic issues, but she convinced him. They would have a free relationship, but He is obliged to have a child with her. It was so unreal to him then as it was now, but all in all, they spawned a beautiful baby boy. His name was Leman, Lemy for shorter. It was her idea, but He always thought that if his namesake would ever meet them, he would have them executed for treason.
Then a short guy started to walk down with him. He talked in an alien language, but He also spoke it almost fluently.
- Greetings, Cyril. Late again?
- Why are you always so grumpy about me?
He turned to face him.
- No offence, You like me, I like You. But why are you so fracking excited when it comes to machines, and my stories about techpriests, but so fracking lazy when it comes to learning our fracking language?
The word frack wasn't nothing new for him, he heard other guardsmen from Cyrils' contigent swear like that.
- You know I'm really busy with the works.
- Yeah, right. Just leave me alone, I'm pissed.
The short one quickly abandoned him and Cyril could go to the comanders office.
He showed his dogtags to the guards. Both were shorter than him by almost a head and wore closed helmets. He couldn't read their expressions but he could take a bet that they couldn't read. They still didn't learn the alphabet.
- Okay, but You forgot to put on your scarf, lieutenant.
- I already spoke of this matter to the Commander. It’s too warm here for us to wear those things all the time we’re on duty. Can I go in? Please?
He replied irritated.
- Yes, Sir. Go on.
He grabbed his tags from the guard with bluish-silver helmet and walked down the next corridor. He then encountered another door, this time unguarded. He pushed his id through the lock and entered it.
The room was really big for a guardsman like him, being used to confined spaces and barracks. There were screens depicting the surface, imitating the windows. He knew them and liked to see what was going on the outside of the hive-city. Thanks to some really nifty hacks, they were able to link those screens to the surveillance cameras on some more important levels of the hive and all around their complex. There was also a big table with teal-colored holo-map depicting the entire complex and it’s peripheries. Thanks to the special transmitters, every one serving their cause was depicted on the map, with him also included. There was a room for commander on the far side of the area, and a big desk in the middle of the place. The desk was occupied.
The commander was sitting in a big chair obviously looted from an abandoned flat. She looked very small when she sat in it, dressed in white silk robe, but yet he always felt an aura of greatness surrounding her. The back of the chair was sheeted with a coat made entirely of white fur. She looked up at him. Cyril saluted her by hitting his chest armor with his fist. She bowed to him and asked him to come closer with a gesture of her hand.
As he walked closer, he could see her facial features in more details. She had a smooth bluish-grey skin and round, big red eyes. She smiled to him, expressing a human gesture he learned from him and rubbed her hand around her Y-shaped facial slit as if her head hurt.
- Guevesa’el Cyril Stern reporting for duty, commander. I’m really sorry for being late.
She leaned her right hand to him, handing a sort of papers.
- You must help me, Cyril. I’ve read those reports you’ve sent me about the situation in the hive and how your brethren have other physical and psychological needs than my specie, but I just can’t understand some of the words.
She spoke fluently in Low Gothic, but had still much to learn. He knew it. He was her teacher and adjutant after all. He smiled to her sincerely.
- Alright, show me which of the words are difficult for you, O’Rava.
Even if it was him, who coiled the name Commander Snowmane for her, he decided to use her real name. He still remembered the cut she gave him when they conducted the Talissera ritual to each other. It was after that, that he decided, that her real name was more respectful for her. He was, after all, a gue’vesa. He should show respect for his new commander.
"Incompetence breeds even more incompetence..."