'Yeah/ I butt in, Ъш you must've settled in all right, you made major after all/
'Being in the Guard turned out fine/ the sergeant says, leaning forward to stack his dish on top of Gappo's. Tell the truth, I liked the discipline. As a trooper, I didn't have to worry about anything except orders. Got foddered and watered, had the comfort that whatever I was told to do would be the right thing/ 'But as you got promoted, that must have changed/ Gappo interjects, leaning back again.
'Did, that was the problem/ Franx continues, raffling his curly hair with a hand. 'Higher up the chain of command I got, less I liked it. Soon making decisions that get men killed and maimed. All of a sudden it seemed like it was all my responsibility. Colonel was a born officer, one of the gentry, didn't give a second thought to troopers, was just making sure he could sneak his way up the greasy pole of the upper ranks, hoping to make commander-general or warmaster/
That's why you went over the edge?' I ask, knowing that Franx was in the Last Chancers for inciting subordination and disobeying orders.
'Right/ he says, face grim with the memory, voice deep and embittered. 'Stuck in the middle of an ice plain on Fortuna II, been on half rations for a month because the rebels kept shooting down our supply shuttles. Got the order to attack a keep called Lanskar's Citadel, two dozen leagues across bare ice. Officers were dining on stewed horndeer and braised black ox, drinking Chanalain brandy; my men were eating dried food substitutes and making water from snow. Led my two companies into the officers' camp and demanded supplies for the march. Departmento bastards turned us down flat and the men went on the rampage, looting everything. Didn't try to stop
mem, theY were c°ld and starving. What was I supposed to do? Order diem back into the ice wastes to attack an enemy-held fort with empty stomachs?'
That's kinda what happened to you, Gappo/ I say to the ex-preacher, making a pillow out of my thin blanket and lying down with my hands behind my head.
The haves and have-nots?' he asks, not expecting an answer. 'I can see why Franx here did what he did, but to this day I have not the faintest clue what made me denounce a cardinal in front of half a dozen Imperial Guard officers/
Think you were right/ Franx says. 'Cardinal shouldn't have executed men who were laying down their lives for the defence of his palaces/
'But you had to go and accuse the whole Ecclesiarchy of being corrupt/ I add with a grin. 'Questioning whether there really was an Emperor. How stupid are you?'
'I cannot believe that such suffering could happen if there were such a divine influence looking over humanity/ Gappo replies emphatically. 'If there is an Emperor, which I doubt, the cardinal and odiers like him representing such a figure is patently ridiculous/
'Can't imagine being able to carry on if there wasn't an Emperor/ Franx says, shaking his head, trying to comprehend the idea. 'Would've killed myself as soon as I was hauled in by the Colonel if that was the case/
'You really believe that you have a soul to save?' Gappo asks with obvious contempt. You believe this magnificent Emperor cares one bit whether you die serving the Imperium or as a disobedient looter?'
'Hey!' I snap at both of them. 'Let's drop this topic, shall we?'
It's at mat point that Poal walks over, face scrunched up into a vicious snarl.
'He's done it again/ he says through gritted teeth.
'Rollis?' I ask, already knowing the answer, pushing myself to my feet. Poal nods and I follow him towards the far end of the prison chamber, where he and what's left of Kronin's old platoon usually eat now. Kronin is sitting there looking dejected.
'I shall steal from the plate of decadence to feed the mouths of the powerless/ the mad lieutenant says.
That's the sermons of Sebastian Thor. I know that one/ puts in Poal, standing just behind my right shoulder.
'Where's Rollis?' I demand.
One of the men lounging on the ground nods his head to the right and I see the traitor sat with his back to the cell wall about ten metres away. Trust them to leave it up to me. Most of them hate Rollis, just like I do. They're just scared the treacherous bastard is going to do something to them if they stand up to him, and the Colonel's wrath is another factor. Well, I won't stand for it, having to breathe the same air as him makes me want to rip his lungs out. I march up to stand in front of the scumbag. He's got a half-full bowl in his lap.
I stand there with my hands on my hips. I'm shaking with anger, I detest this man so much.
'Slow eater, aren't you?' I hiss at Rollis. He looks slowly up at me with his tiny black eyes.
'lust because I'm more civilised than you animals, I don't have to put up with these insults/ he says languidly, putting the dish to one side.
*You took Kronin's food again.' A statement, not a question.
'I asked him if he would share his ration with me/ he says with a sly smile. 'He didn't say no/
'He said: 'And the bounties of the Emperor shall go to those who have worked hard in his service'/ Poal interjects from behind me. 'Sounds like a big 'frag off' if you ask me/
'I warned you last time, Rollis/ I say heavily, sickened at the sight of his blubbery face. 'One warning is all you get/
His eyes fill with fear and he opens his mouth to speak, but my boot fills it before he can say anything, knocking bloodied teeth across his lap. He clamps his hands to his jaw, whimpering with pain. As I turn away I hear him move behind me and I look back over my shoulder.
'Bashtard!' he spits at me, halfway to his feet, blood and spittle dribbling down his chin. Til fragging get you back for thish, you shanctimonioush shon-of-an-ork!'
'Keep going and you'll need to ask for soup in future/1 laugh back at him. I'd pity the piece of grox crap if he wasn't such a scumbag piece of sumpfloat. He slumps back down again, probing at a tooth with a finger, eyes
