Editing The Commissar and His Maid

{{Story}}
A spin off of a [[Love and Krieg Spinoffs|spin off]] of '''[[Love and Krieg]]''' detailing the further adventures and awkward romance between The Commissar and Female Krieger Model 68C #6345. Also contains some nightmare fuel about the scribe servitor who takes down The Commissar's correspondence. Depending on how you view it however, it can seem otherwise.

==Part 1==
Activate, scribe, do what it is you do, you pile of gears. Wait, you're already working? Oh, she is good isn't she.

Today, I woke to find my newly appointed maid standing at attention with a what passed for breakfast on Saghalain, and a steaming pot of [[recaf]]. I mumbled good morning as i stretched, and she placed the breakfast tray down on the side table.

I yawned, and when my eyes opened after it, she was gone again, and i heard muffled noises out in my office. Grabbing a ration bar from the tray, i duffed my commissarial hat, bathrobe and slippers, and made my way to the small table in my sleeping quarters.

This had been morning routine before she had arrived, so to my surprise, the table was already set out. Dataslates containing all the reports for the day, another pot of recaf.

and a small vase, with a flower in it.

Saghalain is a desert, we're surrounded for the next forty kilos by sand, sand, and more sand.

I'll give her one thing, the girl knows how to get things done.

Recorded 4111988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 2==
Wait, why are you already scribing? I don't remember... And when did you get that new scribe nib.

Oh, she did, did she?

Well, it's time for my evening report anyway.

Today has been uneventful, or as uneventful as one's day can be with a new aide, maid and bodyguard all rolled into one.

After having to explain that no, I did not require assistance in putting on my uniform, Krieger #6345 and I did the morning inspection of the company. Again, nothing to report, everything is immaculate. I swear to him on the throne that these Kriegers are something else.

I looked over the reports from the previous commissar, he had only ever made one report, and that was one filed by a Krieger himself, about himself, for not having his lasgun fully charged for morning parade. My predecessor made him run laps, because he had begged to be punished.

Krieger #6345 had taken it upon herself to clean all of my equipment, and had been shining my bolt pistol when... well, turns out in her eagerness to make herself useful, she had neglected to check if there was a bolt actually chambered.

One slip of the hand later, she's on her knees begging for forgiveness, there is another twenty Kriegers in the room and I'm in need of a new hat.

She earned her forgiveness however, dinner tonight was amazing. I didn't know you could use a lasgun to sear meat like that.

Recorded 4111988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 3==
Wait a minute, you entered the last couple of entries there under the same date.

Oh, flick that three times? Thank you 6345.

We bugged out today, heading back to one of the major cities for some RnR, or whatever it is these Kriegers do when they're on leave.

This meant for me, however, many of them applied for extended duty on barracks. 6345 took care of most of it for me, finding odd jobs here and there to keep everyone busy and occupied.

When I looked over the reports however, everyone in the company, from the cook to the forward reconnaissance units, had been assigned to
Duty - Entrenchment and Fortification.

The entire company was, or as much as can be said for Kriegers, dancing on air at the news.

Also among the reports, I found a form I had never seen before, a Request for Modification - Uniform - New Assignment, filed by 6345.

Like most paperwork, I signed it without a second glance, leaving it for the nib pushers at the administratum to deal with.

6345 is now wearing an apron and a ruffle over her uniform. They told us about this at the Commissariat, that we might become fond of the uniform worn by our troops, but this...

Excuse me, I need a shower.

No 6345, I do not need help.

Recorded 4119988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 4==
You're looking well today.

Oh, so the enginseer finally got around to seeing you did he?

She what?

Oh, so i have to look forward to a complaint from the cog boys do I? Funny you mention that.

6345 and I were setting up our new Quarters here at the barracks, the men are bringing in what few possessions we both have, when 6345 hands me a form and an envelope. In the envelope was two tickets to the local production of what appeared to be a production of my favorite musical, Little Bunker of Terror. The form was another uniform modification request, which i signed without hesitation.

You know, yesterday, she brought me a box of new bolt shells? Turns out that's what shes been doing at that desk of hers she set up. Inscribing them. Each one of those shells has both a litany of sure firing, as well as the chant of accuracy etched into them.

And she got herself a name tag. Her name i-

What? Valhallans? Scrumball?
Rally the men, and tell those Valhallans that they're in for it.

Recorded 4120988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

Recorded 4120988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 5==
Looks like you double stamped the date yesterday, did the cogboy not treat you right?

By the emperor, 6345 can move. The men and I went down to the hastily prepared scrumball field, only to find that 6345 had made some preparations of her own.
Standing on the sidelines at attention, was an exalting team, made up of the females of the unit.

They seemed very excited, it seems that scrumball is a very serious thing for the company. The men behind me started pulling off their greatcoats, and then, most curiously, their shirts as well. They all looked at me, gas masks still on, naked to the waist, and one made a muffled comment that sounded like
"Come on sir, aren't you going to play?"
I realized what that meant, when on Ultramar, do as the Ultramarines do. I shed my greatcoat and tunic, handing them to 6345 who appeared out of nowhere, and placed my hat upon her head.

I swear she blushed under that mask, as the hat sank to sit on the lenses of her mask, her blond hair flowing out from under it. She looked, dare I say it, adorable.

One of the Valhallans yelled that it was unfair that I was on the team, because I could just execute them all. I yelled back that I would only execute them if they played like a bunch of Eldar farseers. To which there was a hearty laugh.

Half way through the game, Male Krieger 68A #762 copped a concussion from taking on three of the Valhallan forwards, remind me to get him a double ration for that, so we were down a player.

Sorry, the mess hall calls, hold that thought.

Recorded 4122988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

Back, sorry, that scrumball game took it out of me.

So she steps up to the line, to replace the injured 68A #762 but 6345. Everyone protested, us, the Valhallans, even the exalting team. But she looked at me, and that look told me that she could do it. So i told everyone to settle down, or they could complain to my bolt pistol.

And by the Emperor himself on Holy Terra, she did. Never before have i seen such fluid grace, such dexterity. She moved like one of those Callidus assassins you see in the holovids. She scored the winning point for us, rolling across one of the Valhallans' chests to plant the ball over the line.

Low on paper? oh, right, let me fix that for you.

Recorded 4122988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

There, full roll there for you.

She had done it, 6345 had carried us to victory just as the whistle blew. The whole team crashed together in what can only be described as a group at rest. And that's when things got strange. 6345 tore off her mask and kissed me.

She kissed me.

And everyone stopped. I froze for a second. And then i pulled something out of my ass about how the Emperor loves us, and that expressing your affection is okay, so long as you don't get heretical about it.

They bought it. 6345 pulled her mask back down over her bright red cheeks, and mumbled something I didn't hear. I was just glad I wouldn't have to report her, as I was not technically on duty at the time. And yes, I did check the regulations. The Team hoisted us onto their shoulders and carried us back to the barracks. Their still celebrating in the mess, I said that due to gallant conduct, there was a double ration of dessert to be served. They love their dessert, these Kriegers.

And they gave me a gas mask. I think they like me.

Recorded 4122988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 6==
Why were you wearing earmuffs?
She put them on you?
Worried that you'd go deaf and i couldn't do my reports?
She's good like that isn't she.

We had a live fire exercise this evening, I got to wear my gas mask. The troops seemed ecstatic that i was wearing it. Salutes were crisper, when they stood at attention, their boots snapped together louder. And it's rather comfortable too.

6345 stood with me for the exercise, atop the command chimera, to get a better view. I offered the teams double dessert rations for whoever achieved a firing rate over 10 rounds a minute. It seemed however, that 6345 had been in liaison with the local population, as the practice shells were all color bursts. The locals all turned out to watch as the nights sky was lit up in a display that would make the Emperor happy.

I realized that this was why we fought, this is why the Kriegers put their lives on the line, why the entire imperial guard existed, to protect these people. This is what the Emperor wanted us to do. That was his dream, for Humanity to be safe, to live among the stars in peace.

I can't say why i did it, but i grabbed 6345's hand. Together we watched the color burst shells light the sky. I think, I think she's growing on me. They're all growing on me.


Recorded 4123988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 7==
Emperor on the throne, what a day.
Orks. God Damn Orks.

Turns out our little light show for the locals last night stirred up a pack of Orks left over from a waaagh a few years back. Not mentioned in any of the reports I received, but none the less there they were.

It's been a while since I have been caught in a shelling. We were still at our forward command post after the nights live fire practice. I was having a shower when I heard the whistle. That wasn't outbound shelling, there was none ordered for this morning.

The impact damn near threw me out of the tent. I wrenched the water off, and was in my pants and boots by time the next shells rained down. Those first shots were all range finders. I grabbed my mask and pulled it into place, when 6345 launched herself into the changing tent.

Another whistle, a very loud whistle, and were knocked from our feet. I don't know who landed on who, but 6345 Dragged me to my feet, pulled my hat onto my head, handed me my bolt pistol, and shoved me towards the door.

Another whistle, and she tackles me to the ground, as meters away, a mortar explodes. I feel shrapnel graze across my arm, as it's my turn to pull us both to our feet. I drag her with me to the nearest trench and we stop to take in our situation. I have my bolt pistol and sword, she has her rifle. We have no other idea what's going on.

And I'm missing my carapace. I left it back in the change room. Another whistle, and 6345 dives on top of me, as dirt rains down from another explosion.
She looks at me as if to say "We need to get out of here"
I nodded and she crawled over me, leading me towards what I reckoned to be the command chimera.
<...Buffering...>
what does that even mean? would it kill those cog boys to make you easy to understand?

So we crawled, and we crawled, and we crawled some more, till we finally reached the command chimera. Our guns had begun firing back, and the familiar five rounds a minute thudding out in precision timing. The trench we were crawling in lead to one of the side access hatches of the chimera. I helped 6345 out of the trench, and then hefted myself up.

What happened next was like something out of the holovids. Everything went slow, I saw the Orks charging. I saw Kriegers forming familiar firing lines, three men deep, las rounds strobing out in controlled bursts, each flash taking another foul xenos life. and then I saw the grenade. A crude cylinder of metal slam into the ground.

I did the only thing I could do. I tackled 6345 into the chimera. The grenade went off, I felt shrapnel scoring into me and then we landed in the chimera.
<...buffering...>
Again? what's the matter with you?

So there I am, lying on the floor of the chimera, as I feel the pool of blood slowly growing underneath me. Years of training kick in, as I roll over and push myself to my feet. What sort of commissar lets himself get bothered by a little bit of shrapnel in the back? If the legendary Johnathon Fuklaw isn't stopped by it, I won't be stopped by it either.

I looked at 6345, and noticed she was still wearing her apron. She looked at me, and then removed her pack, producing a thermos of recaf for me. What I would do without that girl, I don't know. I grabbed the thermos, lifted my mask and drained it. The command crew outlined the enemy, a small force of Orks, with artillery, which had mostly been neutralized.

Commissarial training guided my actions, If there is one thing Kriegers love more than dessert rations, its a good bayonet charge. Grabbing the external vox line, I roared out the order to fix bayonets, and on my command, to charge the orkish lines.
6345 was mumbling something to the chimera driver. He nods, and looks back at me. There was a look of total respect as he gunned the engine, and the chimera leaped forward
<...buffering...>

I thought back to the stories they had told us at the Scholar Progenium, of Cain, Fuklaw and Raege. I knew what I had to do.
And I wanted to impress her. I wanted to impress 6345.

Grabbing the external vox feed, I opened the top hatch of the chimera, and stood upon the firing platform. Drawing my sword, I pointed at the rapidly thinning line of Orks and Roared "In the name of the Emperor, BAYONET. CHARGE."

The yell from the men was deafening. More las rounds strobed as they charged, and the bark of the Chimera's pintle-mounted bolter added to the cacophony. I looked down at 6345, manning the pintle and smiled under my mask.

The Orks were slaughtered. minimal casualties were suffered on our side, one dead, a handful critically wounded. The usual combat scrapes were treated by field medics.

Unfortunately for me, I copped a piece of stray shrapnel to the leg right at the end, causing me to collapse down on top of 6345, dragging us both down into the chimera. I landed on top of her, and as the victory cheers of the men went up, we cuddled.

Don't give me that look. "Cuddle" is a perfectly acceptable word. The medics patched my leg up, but I'm desk-bound for a week.
Recorded 4124988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 8==
Funny story for you today.
As you well know, I'm unable to walk on my leg all that well at the moment. 6345 has been an Emperor-sent saint.

She helped me put on my boots this morning. She tried to help with my pants, but I refused, I may be injured, but I can still do that.

I then gingerly put some weight onto my leg, which decided to give and I started to collapse. Grasping out for anything to give me some stability I grabbed the front of 6345's greatcoat.

Buttons popped as the coat took my weight, but I managed to then lever myself backwards. I apologized profusely to 6345, who seemed very embarrassed by the whole situation, and folded her arms over her chest.

She gestured for me to sit, and disappeared back into our shared quarters, coming back with a new coat on. She tapped at her chronograph, and then knelt down in front of me, pulled my arms over her shoulders, my chest to her back, and stood up.

I was being given a piggy back. I was glad that everyone else was already on parade, as the barracks were empty. She let me down behind a bunker beside the parade grounds, and put my arm over her shoulders, supporting me in a far more acceptable in front of the troops manner. Her eyes were smiling under her mask for the entire inspection.

She helped me hobble back to my office, which wasn't so bad, I think she may have bought some civilian shampoo, because her hair smelled delightful, like the desert orchid that she keeps in our office.

It's lunch time, I'll continue this later.

No, just, there, isn't that better, don't have to carry heavy me all over the base you know.

Whatever would I do without her?

Recorded 4125988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 9==
Emperor damnit.

I managed to fall again, tore the stitches in my leg. The medic has confined me to quarters until the stitches heal. Three days, not able to leave my quarters. And it gets worse, but I'll get to that.

6345 took the news pretty well actually, when she went to fetch some afternoon nibbles, I swear i saw her skipping down the hallway. She came back with a tray loaded with the local snacks and confections, as well as a hot pot of recaf.

Unfortunately for me, in her hurry to be a good maid, 6345 knocked the pot of recaf, and instinct took over. I tried to catch it, and I did, just upside down. I yell, she's apologizing, and a squad of Kriegers have rushed in.

The medics leave, and my hand is now looking like a puncher's glove. 6345 is pacing nervously and shooting little glances at me. I tell her to stand at attention, then to stand at ease, and then to stand easy. The bark of orders seems to settle her, as i explain that it was my fault, and not to worry about it. Such things happen, and if the Emperor forgives such things. Intent matters more than action.

I roll myself back to my sleeping quarters and change my tunic, and when i return, the desk is cleared, there is a single candle sitting beside a plate, piled with the local delicacies.

6345 appeared behind me, and guided my chair back to its place. She then knelt down beside me, and grabbed my knife and fork.

And she fed me.

<...buffering...>
It was a little awkward at first, but she was patient with me, and very gentle. I don't think she has ever had to feed someone else like this. I know i haven't.

And I have never seen a Krieger eat. When your around them, the food seems to be eaten, but I have never seen actual eating taking place.

So she fed me. All three courses. There was a final chocolate confection. i grabbed it with my uninjured hand, and offered it to her. She looked up at me, and i offered it again. She looked at the confection, back at me, and then back to the confection.

She took off her mask, and took the confection from my fingers with her teeth. I don't think she had ever had a chocolate like that one before, her entire face lit up as she savored it. I looked at her smiling, her blond hair framing her face, her high cheeks and button nose, and her smile.

A smile that could launch a thousand crusades.

<...buffering...>
She smiled at me, I smiled at her, and then she pulled her mask back down. I sighed, and turned back to the table, to help her clear it, but she gently pushed my hands away and cleared the table herself.

She's having her own dinner in the mess I think.
What do Kriegers like? How do i show her i appreciate her? Sure she's a little clumsy, but if the Emperor punished everyone for being clumsy, he'd have to have executed everyone.

Where's that Dataslate, i have an idea.

Logistics, order forms, commissarial priority. Sorry scriber, but I can't let you in on it just yet.

Recorded 4126988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 10==
Hey, wake up, come on scriber, up and at them.

It's here, it arrived today. She brought it in, and was completely clueless to what it was. I asked her to run some errands to the logistics group, to buy me the time I needed. Everything was set up and in place by time she came back.

She let herself into my office, closed the door in her usual matter, and then nearly dropped her dataslate. Standing beside me was her CO. They quickly conversed in the muffled language they always used, and then she rushed up to the desk.

It was all there, the administratum paperwork removing her from probational assignment, and describing her now official position as my aide.

Her CO signed the paperwork, and left us, mumbling something to 6345 as he left. She snapped him a salute, and escorted him to the door. The moment the door shut, 6345 moved faster than i have ever seen anyone move before. She was in my lap, hugging me, faster than a Ratling onto a dropped gelt.

I asked her what her commanding officer had said to her, and she mumbled into my shoulder,
"Permission to act freely, granted."

I smiled, her CO had taken a lot of convincing to let me do what I had done. Shifting her from my lap, I reached under the desk and retrieved the box that had arrived earlier that day.
"Considering your new post as my official commissariat appointed aide, I present you, 6345, Stabsgefreiter Sc-

sorry, what? Oh, of course, let me fix that for you. I'll get a new ink tube for you tomorrow.

"Present you with this".
I handed her the box, which she opened with all due care and reverence. Inside, sitting on commissariat red velvet, was a Carapace breastplate and a new laspistol, fresh from the forge world a few hops away.

Her eyes lit up at the gleaming carapace, as she almost tore her great coat off so she could try it on. I then noticed how different the cut of a female Krieger's tunic was.
<...buffering...>
A fleeting glimpse of flawless pale skin was quickly covered up under gleaming carapace, and then by her greatcoat, which was not not done up all the way. She wrapped her new holster around her waist, and stood at attention.
"You look immaculate" I told her, as i forced myself to my feet.

She tried to help me, but I stopped her with a hand, before pulling myself to attention as well. I saluted her. She saluted me. I was then tackled back into my seat, as she cuddled up to me again. I finished my reports like that, her cuddled in my lap.

She then skipped, literally, skipped, to the mess to get something to eat for lunch. I have never seen her so happy.

And I'll tell you this, my servitor friend, today has been the best day of my career, of my life. The Emperor must have had a smile on his face when I got posted here.

Recorded 4128988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 11==
New ink tube working? Good. Ready?

It's been a busy few days, with it being end of month, there's a lot of paperwork to be filled out, the monthly commendations list to be signed, any other disciplinary disputes to be cleared, and of course, the monthly Valkyrie drop practice.

Kriegers love a lot of things, The Emperor, killing heretics, xenos and traitors, dessert rations, digging trenches, and flying in Valkyries.

I limped to the landing pad with 6345 at my side, and boarded the Valk last, I wasn't up to jumping with them, but I would go along for the ride. Made for a nice change of pace from being cooped up in my office.

The Valk took off, engines roaring, as we flew to the drop point. Now I know what your thinking, Kriegers are trench warfare and siege specialists, what are they doing practicing drops? Well, who do you think does all the reconnaissance? The Forward Recon teams are regarded as the crazy black grox of the Krieg family. Turns out, 6345 was one of them.
<...Buffering...>
I was wearing the standard flight harness that everyone got when flying in a Valkyrie, and i stood with everyone else as the drop zone approached. The side door opened, and Kriegers began jumping out like clockwork.

6345 fiddled with my harness, and then started pushing us both towards the door. I pushed back as best i could with my injured leg, but she kept pushing, before one of the flight crew shoved us both out.

I have never been in so much terror in my life. Give me Orks, give me Eldar, just never throw me out of a Valkyrie without telling me I'm strapped to someone. 6345 had strapped my harness to her, so we were falling in tandem.

I felt the jerk of the grav chute being deployed, and 6345 hugged me from behind, mumbling something like "Did i scare you" into my ear. I thanked the Emperor that she had convinced me to wear my mask today, as it was keeping my face protected, and had these ingenious little straps to keep my hat in place.

I mumbled back that yes she had scared me, and I hoped she was happy about that, to which I got a very enthusiastic nodding.

We made a rather bad landing, my leg gave out, causing us to pitch sideways, getting a fair few laughs from the troops, but, her sergeant explained on the chimera ride home, considering the injury I had sustained, it was an acceptable landing.

That girl is crazy I tell you, but I wouldn't have her any other way.

Recorded 4201988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 12==
All set, full load of paper? Nicely inked?

Its been nearly a month since 6345 was assigned to me because of her, my little misdemeanor with the pen.

She's getting better at being my aide. I hardly have to do any paperwork any more, there is always a pot of recaf ready in the office, and my uniform is always spotless.

6345 has also started to wear her hair up in a messy bun. Its always a refreshing sight to see her at her desk, working away on whatever it is she does, which seems to be everything. I don't know how she is able to do the amount of work she does, but she does it anyway.

She has also made some more homely touches to our sleeping quarters. There's now a heavy bolter on a tripod under her bunk, and the razor wire around the windows mean that if anyone tries to sneak in, they're going to be in for it.

6345 has become a big part of my life. I know that they say that when you join the guard, your heart belongs to the Emperor, and your ass belongs to your CO, but I don't think the Emperor will mind if i share my heart with her, right?

Wasn't it he who said "Share all that you have with your fellow man, for he shall reward you for it"?

It's otherwise been quiet, 6345 is currently out running reports to and from the heads of the logistics teams. Her greatcoat sways as she runs, it's adorable.

Don't you give me that look, I've seen you watching too you know.

Recorded 4202988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 13==
Hope you didn't get any dust in your gears there. All set?

I know it has been a while, but the company got sent on RnR again. 6345 didn't get her application for everyone to be put on entrenchment duty approved, but that wasn't a problem.

They have never seen snow. We got Valkyrie'd to a large town up in the mountains, where it snows. The Valhallans were actually deployed here, but we shared their base, administrata's idea of saving resources.

It reminded me of the exchange programs we used to do back in the schola. But i digress.

6345's eyes were as wide as the rest of the troops as they went outside the barracks this morning, to find snow lightly falling. It wasn't long before snowballs were being thrown, and a few of the more artistic members had made a statue of The Emperor out of a block of ice they had found.

Turns out, that block of ice had been pilfered from what we would discover was the Valhallans' shooting range, but a few words with my commissarial compatriots smoothed things over.

They're having a scrumball game again this afternoon, and the medics have given me the all clear, so I might join in. The Valhallans here heard about what happened to their unit down in Sanguinius glen, and are spoiling for a rematch.

Might actually be fair this time, we're on Valhallan home soil, snow, territory.

Recorded 4207988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

==SCRIBE SERVITOR INTERMISSION==
SCRIBE SERVITOR INTERMISSION.

Master is gone now. He and the pretty masked lady have gone for dinner again. I like master, he is kind. Not like previous master. Previous master did not care for Scribe unit Tricero #5944a.

Tricero also likes pretty lady. Masters friend pretty lady is also kind to Tricero. She has gotten friend enginseer to service Tricero.

She is very pretty, like the saints. Tricero remembers the saints. Tricero remembers many things.

Initiating neural net optimization routine...

==Part 14==
TRAITORS BE DAMNED, ITS COLD OUT THERE.
Whats this? your designation is Tricero? Well then Tricero, the Emperor says to give respect to all things that deserve it, so, here's to you.

And yes, I am in a good mood. We beat the Valhallans. Again. In their home conditions, we beat them. We might have gotten a mild case of hypothermia, but we beat them. I ordered double rations for everyone for that, courtesy of our gracious hosts. However, I am fair, we commissars decided that double rations all around were in order, so the Valhallans are happy too.

6345 got her Exaltation Team together again. They all stood there in their cold weather gear, pom poms shaking for us, their muffled cheers driving the men to victory.

After the game, 6345 and I hitched a on a chimera down to the local town, and enjoyed the entertainment district. It was rather quaint, with quality pubs and eateries, and even an amphitheater, where some local youth were putting on a show about two young nobles who were very much in love or something. 6345 and I watched it for a while, my commissarial uniform getting us in for free.

We continued on, until 6345 pulled on my jacket, and pointed to a small store on the corner. We entered, the shopkeep welcoming us happily. He said how much of an honor it was to have a member of the guard in his store, and that anything we wanted would be half price.

At the mention of that 6345's eyes lit up and she disappeared into row upon row of clothing, accessories and knickknacks. I found her trying on a pair of lampacka gloves with a fur trim, which she seemed to like, but she put back when she saw me watching her. She hurried off again, and when i spotted her, she was back at the counter, purchasing something.

We left the store, and she pulled what she had bought from the bag.

A luxurious red scarf.

==SUPER SPECIAL SCRIBE SERVITOR INTERMISSION==
SCRIBE SERVITOR INTERMISSION SPECIAL (just for you, Alpharius)

Enginseer Thelonius plugged his dataslate into the scribe servitor, and began running diagnostics. The commissar's aide had asked him to give the scribe servitor a good tuning, before they went on RnR.

Thelonius had long ago forgone the need for RnR, for him, this was relaxing, the simple task of optimizing a servitor was child's play compared to coaxing a reluctant chimera to run, or a basilisk to be more accurate.

Tricero's wetware OS loaded, and began to go through the basic optimization routines, when a diagnostic box popped open.
"Do you remember the saints, Thelonius?"
A simple yes no prompt was given at the bottom.
Thelonius poked at the yes button on his dataslate.
"Tricero remembers the saints."

<...buffering...>

Thelonius's fingers skimmed the touchscreen of his dataslate, opening command tracers and prompt sniffers, and unleashing them upon Tricero's cognitor unit. Streams of data flowed past Thelonius's eyes, as he looked for the aberration that had caused Tricero to pose such a question.

More data, no anomaly. the clear servitor code continued to scroll until.
ABNORMALITY FOUND. DISPLAY, DELETE?
Thelonius thumbed the display button. More data streamed up. Before being assigned to the commissar, Tricero had been on loan to a Sister of the Rosen Maiden, who had loaded a program to help her learn the Saints of her order.

Whoever the enginseer was who had unloaded the program had left bits of code in the unit, which had been assimilated into the main cognitive core. Thelonius pondered for a moment, and decided to leave it as it was. Tricero was working properly, so there was no point initializing a full respawn of the wetware operating system.

Finishing up with the basic tweaks a tune up consisted of. Thelonius left Tricero to finish his optimization.

Tricero remembers many things. Tricero will remember Friend Thelonius.

==Part 14 continued==
The scarf was beautiful, a testament to the hard working people who had crafted it from lampaca wool. 6345 looped it around my neck a few times and we started off back towards the barracks.

She brought her hands up to her face and breathed on them, rubbing them together to generate some warmth.

No gloves.

She had forgotten her gloves. We were half way back to the barracks now, and needed to be back for dinner. So I did the only thing i could think of. I took off my glove, grabbed her cold hand in my warm one, and shoved them both into my greatcoats pocket. I offered her the other glove, which she slid her hand into and put into her other pocket. I saw her eyes smile at me from behind the lenses of her mask, and she rested her head on my shoulder.

They say that Kriegers are bred for war, but I find myself wondering: if there isn't a war to fight, what do they want to do then?

I flagged down a chimera to give us a lift back to the barracks, and as we sat beside each other, 6345 undid my scarf slightly, and looped a little around her own neck, before resting her head back on my shoulder.

I swear I heard the rest of the troops in the chimera sigh happily. I know I did. We dined in the mess hall, and I put in a request for some new gloves for 6345. I didn't mark it high priority though, there's no rush that i can see.

Recorded 4208988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 15==
Will the cold affect your ink, Tricero? No? Of course, like the cog boys would let that happen.

There was a wedding yesterday. A Valhallan couple were being handfasted in the eyes of the Emperor, or something like that they call it, back home, that was a marriage. But anyway, everyone was invited, and I found out that there is a administratum order form for an Imperium approved union celebration cake.

However, Valhallans like to celebrate, and they allow for there to be alcohol served at these sort of events. The Kriegers joined in the festivities as best they could, with figure marching, and this strange stomping shuffling dance that made full use of their combat boots.

6345 however, had found, what looked like, a drink she liked. I never saw her actually drink it, but every time i looked back, it was getting lower and lower in the glass.

Which soon became two glasses.

Which  became three, and then four. I asked one of the Valhallans what it was, and he explained, in a thick accent, "Eet is leetle drink we cahll the Eemperahs sellee-bration".

Oh, I didn't know you would write the accent like that. Sorry, Tricero.

The drink was called the Emperor's Celebration. He explained that it was made out of Amsec, and a couple of Valhallan alcohols. Strong stuff.
<...buffering...>
So 6345 had finished off four of these drinks.
Which explains what happened next.
6345 stood up on a table, and started doing the stomping shuffle of the Kriegers.
Everyone just started cheering, as more people, Valhallans and Kriegers climbed up, and started dancing on tables and other objects.

I stayed sober, the Commissariat frowns upon such shenanigans, but I don't think the Valhallan commissars got the message. However, this turned out to be for the better.

6345 tried to get down from the table, but with that much alcohol in her system, she wasn't the stable, sure-footed Krieger she usually was. As gracefully as she could, she crashed onto my lap. I excused us both from the party, and helped her to our quarters, in a a parody of how she had helped me around with my injured leg.
<...Buffering...>
Halfway to the bunker, 6345 decided that she had had enough of walking, and tried to climb into my arms. I chuckled quietly as she nuzzled at me, trying to coax herself into getting carried.

So I knelt down in front of her and she clambered onto my back. Fair's fair I thought, as I piggy backed her back to our quarters. She giggled the whole way back, and was still humming one of the songs she had danced to that night.

We finally got back to the bunker, and she flopped down onto my bunk, giggling up at me. I smiled down at her, and went to say something, but her giggle turned into a small snore. She had fallen asleep in my bunk.

I sighed to myself, and pulled her boots off. I then realized I had never seen her go to sleep before me. She was always up before me, and went to sleep after me. I didn't know if Kriegers took their masks off to sleep or not.

I left her mask on. I hope I did the right thing. I think I'll just sleep in my chair tonight, won't be the first time.

Recorded 4210988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 16==
Tricero, today has been interesting.
Firstly, I woke up before 6345. She was still in my bunk, tangled up under my blanket, her mask off. I slipped in to my footlocker to grab a new uniform, when she started awake, and looked at me from under hooded eyes.
"G'morning, sir", she mumbled, rubbing at the sleep in her eyes.
"Good morning," I said, grabbing my tunic from its foldcase, "Did you sleep well?"
"Yes sirrr," She moaned, grabbing her head, "My head feels like the basilisks are firing in it".
I chuckled quietly, I hadn't had a hangover since back in the Scholar. That had been a wild night, but that is a story for another time.
"Am I up for report, sir?". 6345 asked, pulling my blankets up around her.
I told her not to be foolish, it was a wedding, and celebrating was a part of it. Some of us, i explained, celebrated harder than others. I read a report later that day, that the Valhallans were at eighty percent strength due to the after effects of the wedding.

6345 looked up at me from under her fringe, "Can I please use the washroom first, sir?"
What's a commissar to do, maintaining morale is our duty. 6345 came out of that shower smelling like roses.
"Thank you, sir" She said, before she pulled her mask down. That girl could melt an ice world.

The rest of the day was spent with the troops helping the Valhallans with their post celebration clean up. Morale maintenance is a bitch sometimes.

Recorded 4210988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 17==
It's been a long day, Tricero.

6345 caught a cold yesterday. She had been helping out with clearing the parade ground of empty bottles and streamers with the Valhallan soldiers, while the Valhallan commissars and I dealt out the usual post celebratory disciplinary measures. One of the Valhallans was up for the lash, for commandeering a chimera and doing what the Valhallan commissar called "doughnuts" in the motor pool.

Needless to say, the cogboys weren't happy about having to perform a full track replacement. So we agreed on twenty lashes and a prohibition on the unit's dessert rations.

Anyway, turns out the Valhallans had said that the Kriegers were being soft by wearing their greatcoat, instead of their shirtsleeves like the Valhallans were. The majority of Kriegers ignored them, but 6345 is not the sort of girl who would take it.

So she has a cold, and is tucked into her bunk getting some sleep. She tried to do her normal aide work, but i ordered her back to bed. She grudgingly trudged back to her bunk, but I heard her working on her dataslate, which i promptly confiscated. The Imperium needs strong soldiers, i explained, and if she didn't get better, she wouldn't be an effective solider if she was sneezing and sniffling in a combat zone.

She pouted as she handed me her data slate, and glared at me as I pocketed it. So I went to my foot locker and pulled out the scarf she had bought me. I wrapped it around her neck, and told her to get some sleep, I could handle the reports for one day.

I'll be back soon Tricero, going to get some lunch. Do you actually eat anything? No?
<...Buffering...>
In another mirroring of how she looked after me, I just finished feeding...
Tricero? Should your scribe unit be making that noise? Yes? If you're sure.
So i got some soup from the mess hall, as well as some toast, the Valhallans know how to make a good meal, let me tell you.

So I come back, with the meal on the mess tray, some soup, some toasted bread, a dessert ration, and something the locals called guava juice.

I tried to feed her, like she had fed me, but she outright refused.
"It's not right sir. I can feed myself", she said, as she pulled the tray from my hands and glared at me again. I know that sometimes, there isn't a point in fighting, so I left.
A few minutes later, she called for me, and when I entered the room, she sheepishly grinned at me, and offered me the tray. I just laughed and took it, but she then beckoned me closer.
She offered the last square of her chocolate ration to me.

I Returned the favor she had given me, and took the square from her fingers. She blushed as she snuggled back down into her blankets, and dozed off again.

Yeah, i stood there and waited for her to go back to sleep, don't give me that look.
<...buffering...>
Hey, you okay? Just seemed like you finished the missive, but I'm not finished yet.

She dozed off again, and I returned to my reports for the day. Later that evening, she shuffled out from the sleeping quarter, blanket pulled around her, helmet on, mask around her neck. "Permission to go to the mess, sir?"
"Permission denied, can't risk you infecting the troops."
She glared at me for that, "What about you, sir?"
I smiled, "Commissarial immunization, I'm immune".
She just pouted, and asked for some dinner. I told her I would be back in a moment.

I returned to find her at her desk, data slate in hand, still wrapped in her blanket. I frowned at her and put her meal tray down on her desk.
"I thought i ordered you back to bed."
She just shook her head, "You did not, sir"
"Well I am now. Bed. Go."
She glared at me and returned to her bed, leaving the tray of food on her table. I sighed, grabbed the tray and followed her. Doing the reports had been hellish, I don't know how she does it all.
<...Buffering...>
I found her back on her bunk, looking very unhappy.
"I know you feel like you always have to be strong, but it's okay. You can be like this. Around me anyway", I explained.
She looked up at me
"Really?"
I nodded, and offered her a spoon full of soup. 6345 smiled at me, and wrapped her lips around the spoon.

And that, Tricero, is how I finally got to see 6345 eat. Well, eat without a mask on. How they eat with their masks on is beyond me. So she finished the soup, and her toast, and the dessert ration. She snuggled back down into her blankets, the scarf still around her neck.

She smiled at me, and bid me good night. I, well, I did what the Sister superior did when i was a young boy back in the orphanage and was sick. I kissed her on the forehead, and whispered the litany of healing. 6345 giggled, and asked what I was doing. I explained how that's what happened when commissars get sick. A sister hospitaller kisses them on the forehead and says the litany of healing, as well as sings the hymn of the cushioned feline.
6345 laughed, and asked what the hymn of the cushioned feline was. So i sang it for her, after which I explained that it only got sang to the commissars who had gone above and beyond the call of duty. There is a tale of how Commissar Fuklaw had it sung to him by a choir of Hospitallers. She laughed and snuggled further into her blankets.

I bid her good night, and here I am, spilling my guts to you. Strange times, strange times.


Recorded 4210988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

==SCRIBE SERVITOR INTERMISSION PART TRICERO==
SCRIBE SERVITOR INTERMISSION PART TRICERO
Master is sleeping now. Pretty lady is sleeping now. Tricero likes Master and Pretty lady. Tricero is loyal to Master and Pretty lady.
Tricero remembers the saints. Tricero remembers the saints.
Tricero remembers...++Data corrupted++

Running data revitalization algorithms.

Tricero remembers.

==Part 19==
Sorry Tricero, it's been a busy few days.

Turns out there was a minor case of heresy in one of the hydra gunners. We got it early, Emperor be praised, and this company's sterling record has not been blemished. He had become obsessed with his Hydra, constant maintenance, constant striving for perfection. Started using his own blood in the maintenance rituals, that's what tipped off the cog boys that something was up. They found a small carving of some runes on the inside of one of the maintainable hatches, but again, nothing that a lot of incense and chanting won't fix. Enginseer Thelonius assures me that there is no taint to the machine, or the rest of the unit.

I'll interview his crewmates later today. But preliminary reports say the same as everything else, there is nothing to worry about.

6345 is back to her usual bright self, Emperor be praised. She is not a very good patient, after i fed her that one night, she expected it the next few meals and she would demand the hymn of the cushioned feline before she would even think about going to sleep. I think I'm spoiling her. Am I spoiling her Tricero?

Well, that hydra crew isn't going to interview itself now is it. I'll talk to you later, Tricero.

Recorded 4211988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 20==
Finally, I get a chance to talk to you again Tricero. Things have gotten busy with the end of the RnR.

I used to hate packing up my office. I'd always lose things, or misplace them, or not even bother packing at all. But with 6345 here, things are so much Easier. I had gone out with one of the Reconnaissance Teams to find a new town to turn into a fortified base of operations, leaving 6345 to take care of the packing of our shared work and living spaces. We found a small lower mountain town, to low down for snow, but with huge hydro and geothermal power plants, that provided electricity for the surrounding cities.

It was perfect. The mountain behind us acted as a natural wall, and provided the raw materials needed for the manufactorium to produce the fortifications we were to assist in building. While many people point out that the 68th Krieg Field Artillery is just about having big guns, they are also incredibly skilled at making fortifications in which to house them. We joined with the 83rd Krieg Fortification Engineering team, affectionately nicknamed Engineer-tans due to their tan-colored greatcoats that hide the dust that they work in more effectively than the standard grey or black favored by Kriegers. We arrived in the little town, Mikuru, to find that the barracks had already been constructed, in addition to a number of sentry towers, and automated ammunition dispensers at all the key junctions in the quickly growing barracks fortress complex.
<...buffering...>
I heard my name called, and I spun. Standing with his hat on the jaunty angle it always was, stood Alexander Timote, a fellow Commissar I had met years back when we were both fresh out of the scholar.
Typical commissarial greetings followed, mock accusations of heresy and consorting with xenos females and the like. However, as we got talking, he revealed a most interesting tidbit of information. The geothermal springs that help to power the huge generators here, are also popular as bathing houses.

I might just have to investigate, if you get my drift. Can servitors swim? I'll have to ask Thelonius, if he can get his face out of that Russ with the engine problems.

Recorded 4214988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 21==
(the following happens approximately parallel with the piano playing Krieger)
Tricero, hey, wake up.

I know it's late, but do I ever have a story for you. The hot springs here, remember how I said I would need to investigate them? Well, I have. Turns out, Timote, the old grox, has set up his "official commissariat outpost" inside one of them. By the emperors grace, and a fair few threats of summary execution I'd wager, he has gotten himself a private spring. He offered to lend me his office while he goes off to some hearing down on the southern continent, so pack your, what ever it is you pack, and remind...
wait, she...
already has filled out a requisition form to get you a set of humid environment upgrades.

How does she do it?
Anyway, on the bounce, there's a new office to settle in.

Recorded 4215188.M41 68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 22==
Tricero, did you just see what i just...
I didn't think the munitorium manufactured those, that they were just the subject of a gelt fetish publication. I know there is munitorium standard swimwear, but I had no idea that, those were, and how would a Krieger even..

But i digress, this new office is typical of Timote. He never really understood the whole modesty and minimalism back at the schola, and time it seems, hasn't changed him. Look at this, he had a chair made out of a nid. I didn't even know he had fought them. So we have settled in quite happily in our temporary quarters, 6345 traded some amasec for some more homely trinkets, it's amazing how used to having razor wire and sand bags around I have become. There was a little bit of a hiccup with our gear however, her bag's still haven't arrived, so she has temporary loan of an engineer's uniform.

Again, after seeing her in grey for so long, the tan coat makes her seem so, different. She still gets more paperwork done than i understand how, but, that's just how she is.

Have you always had that... device there?

Recorded 4215488.M41 68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 23==
So I finally found the time to try out one of the hot springs this evening, Tricero. I haven't felt this good since they gave me my graduating dose of rejuvanant serum, it's amazing. Truly this place is blessed by the Emperor and his saints. And speaking of blessed, I found out that 6345 has been able to visit the springs almost nightly, thanks to her affiliation with me. I was talking to one of the other aides around Timote's office, and she said that every night since we got here, regular as clockwork, or, I mused to myself, regular as a Krieger, she had slipped into the commissarial spring.

Don't give me that look, Thelonius, might think you're possessed or something. Fine, yes, I did go to the springs tonight just because of her. You got a problem with that, bolt bucket?
You're right, I'm sorry, that was uncalled for.

So I did go to the springs because I knew she would be there. And yes, that explains what she was wearing last night. I really didn't know that there were Munitorium made two piece swimwear, let alone where you would find a requisition form. 6345 however, seems to be able to find things like this like Fuklaw finds things to hate.
<...buffering...>
I don't think that she heard me over the small waterfall that fed the spring, because when she turned around to see me lounging on the opposite side of the pool, she nearly fell off the rock she was sitting on. I have seen horrific things in my short commissarial career, but never have I seen a more adorable sight as 6345 just then, blushing furiously, her wet hair hanging over her eyes as she mumbled apologies for not being more attentive and how distraction leads to heresy. I jokingly reprimanded her, and asked her what she had been doing while she was sitting there. Her eyes went wide as she splashed back to where she had been sitting, looking frantically around the rock, before snatching something off the top of the water. I waded over to her, and looked over her shoulder as she frantically wiped at the screen of the dataslate. The slate was fine, the waterproofing had held, praise the emperor. She noticed me looking at the slate and clutched it to her chest.
"I was, reading, Sir".
She said quietly, the blush on her pale cheeks deepening.
<...buffering...>
She clutched the dataslate closer when I asked what she was reading. She bit her lip. BIT HER LIP. Do you have any idea, wait, no, you wouldn't would you, of how beautiful it is when a girl does that. I asked her what she was reading, and she mumbled something, so I asked again.
"A story, sir." She said, just barely loud enough to hear. I asked what sort of story, to which I got another mumbled reply, before she offered the slate to me. I took it and looked at the cover of the slatescribed story. She was reading a gelt romance... about, well, about a commissar and his aide on some forgotten paradise world. I looked up at her, and she looked away, before looking back at me with a small smile on her face. A small smile that quickly became giggles as I started reading the story to her, giving characters voices and generally abusing all the speech coaching we were taught in the schola.

This continued until, as I was reading, 6345 began to shampoo her hair. Quickly, her blond tresses were covered in the white foam of that shampoo she had bought back when we were in Saghalain, the sweet scent of the desert lilies filling the air.
<...buffering...>
I reached out and buried my hands in her hair. She froze instantly, tensing like a Catachan coil snake. I started to gently massage her head, and she relaxed, her arms dropping to her sides, as she, for want of a better term, melted.

I sometimes feel, Tricero, that my life is slowly becoming a gelt romantic. After rinsing her hair, she smiled at me, before returning the favor. She has magic hands, and I knew there was a reason i accepted the pay docking so I could have longer than standard hair. I haven't had someone play with my hair like that since, Emperor abounds, since back in the schola.

After 6345 rinsed my hair, she excused herself, saying that she had some reports that needed to run, and that I should enjoy the springs for a while longer. I just smiled at her, and told her I would meet her back in the office.

After 6345 had left, I saw she had forgotten her dataslate. I picked it up, and was about to have a peek through, when I felt something. I felt, Him. The Emperor himself told me to stay my hand.

There is something about that girl, something amazing Tricero.

Recorded 4215588.M41 68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain Autoscribe #303440288

==SCRIBE SERVITOR INTERMISSION PART FOUR==
Tricero hummed quietly to himself as the Commissar and Krieger 6345 slept. Outside, the wind howled, and quietly, a faint snap.

The mountain, Sanguninius's Spire, was home to a number of wild animals, most of which had been scared off by the town, and then, just about anything left had been evicted by Krieger entrenching tools. But not this one. The muscled form of a mountain bear quietly made its way around the base, sniffing at the open window of the commissars quarters. Thick skin was untroubled by razor wire, as the mountain bear clambered over the protective coils. Landing lightly on the patch of grass that made up the small garden outside the commissars office, the bear made its way towards the open door.

There was a quiet whirr, a small click, and the bear was torn to ribbons. A pair of glowing eyes seemed to smile, as the door closed.

Tricero likes master, Tricero likes pretty lady. Tricero will protect master.

Tricero remembers how.

++Initializing subroutine alpha alpha delta 344, cleansing start++

==Part 24==
That is not how I want to start my morning. Ever. So I wake up this morning, and walk to the little kitchenette that is part of my quarters here, and look out the door at the little garden Timote has been making, only to see it covered, no, drowned, in blood. I yelled out to 6345, who appeared wrapped in her sleeping tunic, rifle in one hand, my bolt pistol in the other. Grabbing my pistol from her, I wrenched the door open, our weapons scanning in overlapping fields of fire. The garden looked like the remains of a kegger at a Khornate cult. Whatever it was, thankfully wasn't human, but it still raised the question, what could have done this? A few vox calls later, and Timote said he would be back as soon as he could manage, and I have put the rest of the base on heightened alert. I found out later it was the body of one of the apex predators here, a mountain bear, big as an Astartes they are, but quiet as an Eldar's fart, to use the words of the local who identified the body.

I had a cold shower after that, and 6345 made me some breakfast. The day went as usual otherwise. I mostly mulled over my experience from the night before, could it be the Emperor just didn't like the idea of me going through 6345's slate? Was there more to it? I had no idea, so I did what seemed like a good idea, when I returned the dataslate to her, I asked if there was anything else on it. 6345's eyes darted away under her mask, and she mumbled something, just like she always does when she is embarrassed. I asked her again, and she told me that she had a diary on there.

Now, it's not heretical to call the Emperor a bro is it? I knew why he had told me not to, it had been a test. A test to see if I trusted her as much as she trusted me. A test, thanks to him, I passed.
<...Buffering...>
She looked up at me and I smiled, telling her I didn't look, and that I was just curious as to why she was so protective of it. She gave a sigh of relief when I explained myself, and took the slate back, before turning her attention back to the ever shrinking pile of paperwork on her desk. 

We went to the springs again as well, turn's out she's quite the accomplished swimmer as well. And her gear duffel arrived today as well, so she will be back to her standard grey coat tomorrow.

The fortifications are coming along well, and the monthly valk drop is coming up again soon. I'm looking forward to it this time. 6345 ordered herself a new pair of jump boots, and she spent the afternoon polishing them. She seems very happy with herself, and I will admit, she does look good in them.

Recorded 4215688.M41 68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain Autoscribe #303440288

==Part 25==
Timote returned today, with a few magos biologists, to see what had happened to his garden. We made some jokes about trying to summon a daemon in his yard, with fertilizer for the fertilizer god being the highlight. It was funny, you had to be there. The magos looked around, took some samples, and gave us two options, both were fairly unlikely, but it was either, the mountain bear had held onto a valk and fallen off, landing with a splat, or the warp did it. 

We decided, due in no small part to not wanting inquisitors skulking about, that it was the Valkyrie and bear story. This was all well and good, but with Timote back, meant that 6345 and I were being put into new quarters, again.

However, the Emperor rewarded me for the dataslate situation, and our new quarters had literally its own indoor spring. It had been the residence of a governor or noble or something back before the militarization of Terranis, but with this area now a high priority target, it had been requisitioned by the Estate Imperialis.

However, in their rush to leave, the lady of the house had left half her wardrobe, rack upon rack, shelf upon shelf, of clothing, shoes and accessories. I'm beginning to think that 6345 is a favorite of the emperor. She threw open the door to the walk in wardrobe, and nearly squealed with joy.

Seeing her so happy makes the life I've lived so far all worth it.

<...buffering...>
Having finished all her paperwork, 6345 disappeared into the wardrobe, as i sat at the huge desk in the study that was now my office. I don't know how whoever owned this place afforded a [[Dwarf Fortress|Master crafted Catachan whippet tree wood desk, let alone how he got it studded with cygnium crystals, or why, around the edge of the desk, it is engraved with images of space marines and daemons, in which the marines are laughing, and the daemon is making a plaintive gesture.]] But it is solid, and should I ever need to dive under it, I'm fairly sure its going to protect me.

I finished signing the small pile of paperwork that required an actual signature, not just a stamp, found a cup of recaf, and went to see how 6345 was enjoying herself. I knocked on the slightly ajar door to the wardrobe, and got no answer, so I poked my head in.

Tricero, I swear, if I go blind, and they cant get bionics to fix me, I wont care. 6345 span around, clutching a top to her chest, clad only in regulation white socks and panties. Her face went red, her eyes wide, a look part surprise, part embarrassment and part happiness on her face, and my jaw just hung slack for a moment.
<...buffering...>

I pulled my head out from the door way and closed the door, apologizing profusely for my intrusion. She told me not to worry, and to wait just there. So I waited, images of her lean, creamy skinned form dancing in my head. If the Emperor sees all, hes a lucky man.

a few minutes later, she opened the door a crack, and asked me to close my eyes. I did. I heard soft footsteps as she walked in front of me, and then asked me to open my eyes.

She stood in the main bedroom, light from the window streaming around her, as she stood there, resplendent in one of the ballgowns the lady of the house must have owned. It looked like she was wearing a cloud, a cloud that emphasized everything that should be emphasized. She did a little twirl and giggled, "We don't have clothes like this on Krieg," she told me, "And I have never seen a requisition form for them either".

I smiled, and had an idea. I asked her, what would the Krieger's say if we were to have a ball? 6345 looked puzzled at the idea. I explained that it would be good for morale, and we could share it with the other regiments here on Sanguinuse's Spire, we might even invite some of the civilians, winning the hearts and minds of the Emperors people was important.
6345 looked at me, "Can I wear this?"
I nodded.

And that look of happiness I will never forget.

Recorded 4215888.M41 68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain Autoscribe #303440288

==See Also==
*[[Love and Krieg]]
*[[Love and Krieg Spinoffs]]