13th Legion

Even inside the walls of Epsilon Station, hewn from the bare rock of the mountains, it's cold. Damn cold. Outside, they say, you'll freeze in five minutes without a proper suit. I can damn well believe it too, my toes are still numb from the short trek from the landing pad at the top of the valley. We're resting up here tonight and heading off in the morning. As I lead the men

to the part of the barracks the Colonel's requisitioned for us, Franx falls in beside me.

'Planet's going to kill me, Kage/ he says sombrely, gloved hands clumsily unfastening the toggles down the front of his heavy winter coat.

'If False Hope didn't get you, this place is a walk in the plaza/ I reassure him.

'False Hope might get me yet,' he says with a grimace. 'Cold is playing havoc with my chest, can hardly breathe/

You'll survive/ I say with feeling. 'It's what we're good at/

'Maybe/ he admits, still looking unconvinced. 'Just a matter of time before we're all dead. If the weather doesn't kill me, orks might. How long can we keep surviving?'

'As long as we want to/ I tell him emphatically, gripping his shoulder. 'Look, my philosophy is that if you give up, you've had it. You need something to hang on to. Me, it's the Colonel. Every time I see him I convince myself again that he's not going to get me killed. I don't want to give him that pleasure. It's worked so far/

'You believe him about our chance at redemption?' asks Franx, hopefully.

'It ain't what I believe that matters/ I tell him with a shrug. 'It's what you believe that's important. We deal with it in our own way. Linskrug thinks that if he can just survive he'll be able to return and reclaim his barony and get revenge on his enemies. Kronin's gone mental, but he thinks he's the voice of the Emperor now and that's what gets him through. Everyone's got their own thing. The ones who died just didn't believe it enough. If you want to fight for your soul, that's fine by me/

'Emperor, you're bloody scalding me!' Gappo shrieks at the young boy by the water temperature controls. Steam rises from the massive pool, condensing in droplets on the light blue tiles of the walls. He pulls himself up the side so that just his legs are dangling in the bath.

'Keep it nice and hot, boy/ argues Poal, the former storm trooper. This weather's bitten clean through to my heart, I need to let the heat seep in/

'Don't rust your hook/ Gappo sneers back, gingerly lowering himself back into the water.

'Best damn wash I've had in a long while/ I tell them, reach­ing for one of the bottles of cleansing tonic. This ansidium stuff must bring in a good price, they live pretty well here on Kragmeer/

'By the sounds of it, the Cult Mechanicus give an arm and a leg for the stuff/ agrees Poal, sliding further into the water until it's up to his chin. 'Think what kind of energy it takes to heat water to this when it's freezing cold topside/

'Push over, give a weak man room!' calls Franx, padding gin­gerly across the floor, his bare feet reluctant to touch the cold tiles. He's right, he is looking really haggard, his once ample frame clings to his bones now. There's still plenty of muscle there, but the weight's fallen off him completely. He dips a toe in and whips it back with a hiss, much to everyone's amuse­ment.

Too hot for your delicate skin?' laughs Poal, splashing water at the sergeant. Franx puts a foot on Poal's head, forcing it under the water. When he surfaces again, spluttering and curs­ing, Franx jumps in beside him.

'Aieee/ he winces, biting his lip. 'Bastard hot!'

You get used to it!' I reassure him, pouring some lotion into the stubbly growth on my head that passes for hair.

'Don't forget to wash behind your ears/ Gappo chuckles, grabbing the bottle from me, his lunge forward causing waves to lap against the side and splash up onto die floor. I hear someone else coming in and look up to see Kronin, treading cautiously across the water-slicked tiles.

'And there shall be space in the Emperor's heart for all true believers/ he tells us, waiting at the edge, peering suspiciously into the pool.

That means shift up, Last Chancers/ I tell them, pushing Poal to one side to clear a space on my right. Kronin takes a deep breath and steps off the edge; the small man splashes in and goes completely under. A few seconds later he bursts into view again, face split by one of the widest grins I've seen.

'Could easily stay here for days/ Franx rasps, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the pool edge. 'Can see why Kragmeerans don't mind cold patrols up top if they come back to mis/

'I think it's Kragmeerites/ Gappo corrects him, tossing the lotion to Poal.

'Kragmeerans, Kragmeerites, whatever/ Franx croaks back sleepily.

'And I'm sure the novelty wears off after a dozen sweeps in the early morning frost/ the ex-preacher continues. 'I met a sergeant from one of their long-range scouting groups. Even the most experienced men die quite regularly. Frostbite, hidden crevasses, ice bears, all kinds of nasty things waiting for the unwary out there/

'Can't be any worse than False Hope/ I remind them. 'Now there was a hellhole, with no redeeming features/

'Amen to that/ Franx agrees. He's got more reason than any of us to want to forget that deathworld.

There was a great light, and all around was the beauty of the Emperor/ chips in Kronin, chasing after a piece of soap as it slithers through his thin fingers.

'Eh? What's that mean?' asks Poal. Our synchronised shrugs cause more ripples to spread across the water, and Kronin looks around, brow furrowed in thought.

'There was rejoicing upon the Square of the Evernight, for the darkness had passed and the light had returned/ he tries again. He sighs in frustration when we shake our heads.