Guard fic 3.6
“Commander.” She acknowledged him coldly, clearly far more perturbed by his lack of wounds than by her lack of clothes. Odd, you would have thought that lying immobilised in a hospital bay wearing less than your average Slaneshi cultist would make her less scary, but apparently it didn’t work that way.
“Lord Commissar.” King replied, equally formally. He had for some reason not expected Robes to be there, so his plan to explain in private was deader than a heretic at an Inquisitor’s birthday. Mentally, he kicked himself for being so stupid as to think that he was getting a break for once. He turned to Robes, without much hope.
“Are you prepared to let us talk in some kind of privacy?”
“Regret. No.” So it was the same Robes from the surface then, Poro Tauna had a better grasp of Gothic.
“Of course not.” King muttered sarcastically before turning back to Rossaria. “Glad to see you looking better Lord Commissar, I’m sorry it isn’t under better circumstances.”
“Indeed. I see you have got off fairly lightly though, just minor lacerations. The worst being that wound to your neck that I can see.”
“Sadly it was an older wound that saw to me, the one I took the day we met if you recall, but that’s a long story. The important fact is that we have been made prisoner by the enemy, along with three guardsmen of the regiment. We were defeated by overwhelming odds and when called upon I took the decision to surrender.” She opened her mouth to speak, but he pressed on urgently.
“This is not a decision I took lightly, but rather because it was agreed that they would take only me, that they would cease hostilities while I am their prisoner, and that they would turn back there and then.” He stressed this last point as much as he dared, knowing that while his life and career hung upon her realising the significance, acquiring the artefact depended upon Robes not doing so.
“I felt that under the circumstances this was worth the loss of one man and so I agreed. Obviously I immediately learned the value of a Tau’s honour when they broke their word and prevented Commissar Haine from removing you to safety.”
“This was not correct, the Tau do not lie.” Robes interrupted “He did not understand that we must speak with both, Commissar Lord and Commander King.”
“Because you said you’d let her go!” King shouted back, spinning round to face Robes, his frustration finally bubbling over. The medics scattered as six guns trained upon him, the two closest pushing into his chest as the fire warriors moved to protect their negotiator.
“Commander King, you said to speak to her. Speak. We will not shout here like angry Snae’ta.”
He didn’t know what a snayta was, nor did he care, but the point was made. As was his - Robes had just demonstrated quite nicely to Rossaria that King was most definitely a prisoner and not an ally. He turned back to the bed and hung his head in frustration before looking back to Rossaria.
“As I said. They felt that taking their pick of the wounded was an artefact of the agreement, and unlike actual people they don’t care if they are discovered in deception. So the plan collapsed like so much ice.”
“Understood, Commander.” Rossaria replied with a hint of exasperation, making him feel that she’d probably got the point, and maybe it was now belaboured. Whether she agreed with it or not remained to be seen, but at least he’d done what he could. And if not, he was now one of the very few people in the Imperium who could say he died knowing the colour of a Commissar’s underwear. It wasn’t worth it.
“What should I expect now?” Rossaria asked him. It would be unprofessional to shrug, but King had to admit that was how he felt.
“Their two leaders wanted to talk with me yesterday, it wasn’t successful.” He offered as summary. “They intend to try again once you are recovered. In the meantime I’m being held with the other guardsmen and based on the remaining bunk space, I assume that’s their plan for you too. They believe that we will reach an agreement with them and have said that they will release us at that point. So in short, I don’t know. I passed command to Trevanus and ordered him to consider us dead, given that I expect that in the not long distant future we will be.”
He had intended to tell her about Haine’s judgement on him, but he wasn’t going to let on about that to the damn Xenos so it would have to wait. Likewise Rossaria had clearly seen the value of a united front and wasn’t about to tear him a new one in front of Robes and the rest of them. He could see in her eyes however that it was almost certainly coming.
Robes had his own version of events to tell. King assumed that he was upset about what he would see as misrepresentation, but it was hard to tell what was going on in that alien mind.
“There will be no death.” It assured them. “We wish to speak. You are here to rescue your people, this is good. It is correct to do. But your people do not wish to be rescued, they have seen the superiority of the Greater Good. So there is no need for us to fight. Por'O Tau’na J’karra Ko’vash Mi’tesh, who your Commander calls Por’O Tau’na although this is not correct, knows that this is something you will understand and agree. So there will be no death.”
“And if we do not agree though, what then?” Rossaria asked.
“This will not happen, there is no reason to disagree. There is no need for us to fight.”
Two days ago, King would have described Sargas as a miserable frozen hole, not worth one drop of the human blood spilled upon it. Now, he would fight to the last man to prevent this piece of Imperial territory from falling further into Xenos hands.
“Your commander thinks there is.” He commented.
“You mean Shas'O Sa’cea Lar’shi’vre Kir’gath Mont’or. He sees the value in war to revenge the ones who are dead and to make it that the human empire does not come back. He is not correct to think this but he knows that this thought must submit to the Greater Good.”
“That wouldn’t be something to do with the scar I gave him, would it?” King replied in a falsely cheery tone. “I’ll fight him then, one on one. The war of his face versus my arm.”
Robes paused. King tried to read his expression and would guess at confused.
“Your words do not make sense. You want to make confusion. You want to make me angry as you are. This talk is over.”
“Commander King is a great warrior as well as a strong leader, with decades of service behind him.” Rossaria retorted, surprising King a fair deal. “I have faced Tau on the battlefield, as I have faced the dark and ruinous powers of chaos, or the horror of the Tyranids. We are warriors. You cannot expect us to forget that and to submit happily to capture, however well meant. We will talk with you because we have no choice, but we will not pretend that we are honoured guests being treated as equals.”
Looking around and deciding it was worth the risk, King signalled with his hand, the gesture that in the field meant “keep going”. He had spotted the trays of instruments nearby and was wondering if there was anything that he could grab unseen. As Rossaria continued, he folded his arms and leaned back on the table, casually taking a break from standing stiff. The escort spotted this of course, but Robes didn’t seem to. Hopefully they wouldn’t know how long a Guard was able to stand to attention and would assume that human weakness required a seat.
“So where are we to have this meeting? Here in the hospital with your medics pushing between diplomats? Or will you carry my bed through to your meeting room so I can lie there and be stared at?”
As Robes tried in his strange broken Gothic to reassure Rossaria that none of the Tau was interested in the human female form, and Rossaria pretended to be suddenly distressed at the idea of people seeing her during formal negotiations, King stayed leaning casually, arms folded, until the guards had lost interest. While they presumably didn’t speak any gothic, the range of emotions Rossaria was play acting was quite involving and they seemed to be getting drawn in. When he deemed it safe he shifted position, stretching his shoulders slightly as if he was stiff and then dropping his arms to rest down on the table behind him. No one batted an eyelid (metaphorically, of course, who knows what goes on inside a Tau’s helmet?). Robes was discussing something with the medic now in Tau as Rossaria moved on to needing to know what exactly was wrong with her and how much experience her medic had with humans.
Slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on the scene in front of him, King started to explore the table’s surface with his fingertips. Nothing he could reach cut him, which was in some ways good since the last thing he needed was some filthy Xenos disease, but also bad when he was looking for something to help them escape. He knew he didn’t have much time though and so lacking anything that stood out as useful he closed his fingers around the first two things he could find, one long thin metal instrument in each hand. He twisted them around silently so that as much as possible was concealed, the stick spilling out from his hand and into his sleeve, but he couldn’t get either one far enough up the sleeve to be sure they were hidden. Time for plan B then. He shifted position again, sticking his hands deep into his pockets and crossing his ankles, a position of relaxation he’d seen sometimes in holovids, but hadn’t taken up since he joined the Astra Militarum so many decades ago.
Rossaria had garnered some information about her wounds and thankfully she seemed set to make a full recovery. The medic estimated that she would be released (in the medical sense anyway) by the end of the day to recover elsewhere. King asked for some time for her to recover properly before being thrown into delicate negotiations, something Robes took note of but no promises were made. He did confirm that she would be in the same cell as the others - he objected to the word cell of course, he preferred to think of it as a holding facility to which the door was of necessity locked for protection and to prevent excessive and distressing interaction between the two races. King opined that cell seemed a lot simpler way of saying it, and Robes decided that there was no further merit in this meeting.
“Hold on!” King cried suddenly as they were preparing to move him out.
“What?” Robes sounded the same as always, the flat toneless alien voice, but King was ready to bet a months’ creds that it was heart sick of him by now.
“I want to touch her.” He said simply, honest for perhaps the first time since Rossaria had arrived on Sargas.
“Why?”
“Because we’re human.” He pressed forward to Rossaria’s side and the Commissar lifted her hand to him. He grasped it and shook it, that small formal gesture suddenly a lifeline of normality in the insanity and danger of their situation. They broke contact almost immediately, but King felt rejuvenated by the connection.
“Thank you Rossaria.”
“Very good, Antonius.” She nodded and saluted. He returned the gesture, then turned to walk from the room. His escort was ready and surrounded him instantly and he was accompanied back to the holding facility to which the door was of necessity locked. He was heartened to note that, while of course he let the Tau lead him, he hadn’t forgotten a single step of the route back.
“Lord Commissar.” King replied, equally formally. He had for some reason not expected Robes to be there, so his plan to explain in private was deader than a heretic at an Inquisitor’s birthday. Mentally, he kicked himself for being so stupid as to think that he was getting a break for once. He turned to Robes, without much hope.
“Are you prepared to let us talk in some kind of privacy?”
“Regret. No.” So it was the same Robes from the surface then, Poro Tauna had a better grasp of Gothic.
“Of course not.” King muttered sarcastically before turning back to Rossaria. “Glad to see you looking better Lord Commissar, I’m sorry it isn’t under better circumstances.”
“Indeed. I see you have got off fairly lightly though, just minor lacerations. The worst being that wound to your neck that I can see.”
“Sadly it was an older wound that saw to me, the one I took the day we met if you recall, but that’s a long story. The important fact is that we have been made prisoner by the enemy, along with three guardsmen of the regiment. We were defeated by overwhelming odds and when called upon I took the decision to surrender.” She opened her mouth to speak, but he pressed on urgently.
“This is not a decision I took lightly, but rather because it was agreed that they would take only me, that they would cease hostilities while I am their prisoner, and that they would turn back there and then.” He stressed this last point as much as he dared, knowing that while his life and career hung upon her realising the significance, acquiring the artefact depended upon Robes not doing so.
“I felt that under the circumstances this was worth the loss of one man and so I agreed. Obviously I immediately learned the value of a Tau’s honour when they broke their word and prevented Commissar Haine from removing you to safety.”
“This was not correct, the Tau do not lie.” Robes interrupted “He did not understand that we must speak with both, Commissar Lord and Commander King.”
“Because you said you’d let her go!” King shouted back, spinning round to face Robes, his frustration finally bubbling over. The medics scattered as six guns trained upon him, the two closest pushing into his chest as the fire warriors moved to protect their negotiator.
“Commander King, you said to speak to her. Speak. We will not shout here like angry Snae’ta.”
He didn’t know what a snayta was, nor did he care, but the point was made. As was his - Robes had just demonstrated quite nicely to Rossaria that King was most definitely a prisoner and not an ally. He turned back to the bed and hung his head in frustration before looking back to Rossaria.
“As I said. They felt that taking their pick of the wounded was an artefact of the agreement, and unlike actual people they don’t care if they are discovered in deception. So the plan collapsed like so much ice.”
“Understood, Commander.” Rossaria replied with a hint of exasperation, making him feel that she’d probably got the point, and maybe it was now belaboured. Whether she agreed with it or not remained to be seen, but at least he’d done what he could. And if not, he was now one of the very few people in the Imperium who could say he died knowing the colour of a Commissar’s underwear. It wasn’t worth it.
“What should I expect now?” Rossaria asked him. It would be unprofessional to shrug, but King had to admit that was how he felt.
“Their two leaders wanted to talk with me yesterday, it wasn’t successful.” He offered as summary. “They intend to try again once you are recovered. In the meantime I’m being held with the other guardsmen and based on the remaining bunk space, I assume that’s their plan for you too. They believe that we will reach an agreement with them and have said that they will release us at that point. So in short, I don’t know. I passed command to Trevanus and ordered him to consider us dead, given that I expect that in the not long distant future we will be.”
He had intended to tell her about Haine’s judgement on him, but he wasn’t going to let on about that to the damn Xenos so it would have to wait. Likewise Rossaria had clearly seen the value of a united front and wasn’t about to tear him a new one in front of Robes and the rest of them. He could see in her eyes however that it was almost certainly coming.
Robes had his own version of events to tell. King assumed that he was upset about what he would see as misrepresentation, but it was hard to tell what was going on in that alien mind.
“There will be no death.” It assured them. “We wish to speak. You are here to rescue your people, this is good. It is correct to do. But your people do not wish to be rescued, they have seen the superiority of the Greater Good. So there is no need for us to fight. Por'O Tau’na J’karra Ko’vash Mi’tesh, who your Commander calls Por’O Tau’na although this is not correct, knows that this is something you will understand and agree. So there will be no death.”
“And if we do not agree though, what then?” Rossaria asked.
“This will not happen, there is no reason to disagree. There is no need for us to fight.”
Two days ago, King would have described Sargas as a miserable frozen hole, not worth one drop of the human blood spilled upon it. Now, he would fight to the last man to prevent this piece of Imperial territory from falling further into Xenos hands.
“Your commander thinks there is.” He commented.
“You mean Shas'O Sa’cea Lar’shi’vre Kir’gath Mont’or. He sees the value in war to revenge the ones who are dead and to make it that the human empire does not come back. He is not correct to think this but he knows that this thought must submit to the Greater Good.”
“That wouldn’t be something to do with the scar I gave him, would it?” King replied in a falsely cheery tone. “I’ll fight him then, one on one. The war of his face versus my arm.”
Robes paused. King tried to read his expression and would guess at confused.
“Your words do not make sense. You want to make confusion. You want to make me angry as you are. This talk is over.”
“Commander King is a great warrior as well as a strong leader, with decades of service behind him.” Rossaria retorted, surprising King a fair deal. “I have faced Tau on the battlefield, as I have faced the dark and ruinous powers of chaos, or the horror of the Tyranids. We are warriors. You cannot expect us to forget that and to submit happily to capture, however well meant. We will talk with you because we have no choice, but we will not pretend that we are honoured guests being treated as equals.”
Looking around and deciding it was worth the risk, King signalled with his hand, the gesture that in the field meant “keep going”. He had spotted the trays of instruments nearby and was wondering if there was anything that he could grab unseen. As Rossaria continued, he folded his arms and leaned back on the table, casually taking a break from standing stiff. The escort spotted this of course, but Robes didn’t seem to. Hopefully they wouldn’t know how long a Guard was able to stand to attention and would assume that human weakness required a seat.
“So where are we to have this meeting? Here in the hospital with your medics pushing between diplomats? Or will you carry my bed through to your meeting room so I can lie there and be stared at?”
As Robes tried in his strange broken Gothic to reassure Rossaria that none of the Tau was interested in the human female form, and Rossaria pretended to be suddenly distressed at the idea of people seeing her during formal negotiations, King stayed leaning casually, arms folded, until the guards had lost interest. While they presumably didn’t speak any gothic, the range of emotions Rossaria was play acting was quite involving and they seemed to be getting drawn in. When he deemed it safe he shifted position, stretching his shoulders slightly as if he was stiff and then dropping his arms to rest down on the table behind him. No one batted an eyelid (metaphorically, of course, who knows what goes on inside a Tau’s helmet?). Robes was discussing something with the medic now in Tau as Rossaria moved on to needing to know what exactly was wrong with her and how much experience her medic had with humans.
Slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on the scene in front of him, King started to explore the table’s surface with his fingertips. Nothing he could reach cut him, which was in some ways good since the last thing he needed was some filthy Xenos disease, but also bad when he was looking for something to help them escape. He knew he didn’t have much time though and so lacking anything that stood out as useful he closed his fingers around the first two things he could find, one long thin metal instrument in each hand. He twisted them around silently so that as much as possible was concealed, the stick spilling out from his hand and into his sleeve, but he couldn’t get either one far enough up the sleeve to be sure they were hidden. Time for plan B then. He shifted position again, sticking his hands deep into his pockets and crossing his ankles, a position of relaxation he’d seen sometimes in holovids, but hadn’t taken up since he joined the Astra Militarum so many decades ago.
Rossaria had garnered some information about her wounds and thankfully she seemed set to make a full recovery. The medic estimated that she would be released (in the medical sense anyway) by the end of the day to recover elsewhere. King asked for some time for her to recover properly before being thrown into delicate negotiations, something Robes took note of but no promises were made. He did confirm that she would be in the same cell as the others - he objected to the word cell of course, he preferred to think of it as a holding facility to which the door was of necessity locked for protection and to prevent excessive and distressing interaction between the two races. King opined that cell seemed a lot simpler way of saying it, and Robes decided that there was no further merit in this meeting.
“Hold on!” King cried suddenly as they were preparing to move him out.
“What?” Robes sounded the same as always, the flat toneless alien voice, but King was ready to bet a months’ creds that it was heart sick of him by now.
“I want to touch her.” He said simply, honest for perhaps the first time since Rossaria had arrived on Sargas.
“Why?”
“Because we’re human.” He pressed forward to Rossaria’s side and the Commissar lifted her hand to him. He grasped it and shook it, that small formal gesture suddenly a lifeline of normality in the insanity and danger of their situation. They broke contact almost immediately, but King felt rejuvenated by the connection.
“Thank you Rossaria.”
“Very good, Antonius.” She nodded and saluted. He returned the gesture, then turned to walk from the room. His escort was ready and surrounded him instantly and he was accompanied back to the holding facility to which the door was of necessity locked. He was heartened to note that, while of course he let the Tau lead him, he hadn’t forgotten a single step of the route back.