Love and Krieg Spinoffs
Inspired by the first stories in Love and Krieg other writers took it upon themselves to create side stories about Krieger Female Model 68b #6345's sisters and their own romantic adventures. Notable is Krieger Female Model 68b #6346 who gets involved with another nameless civilian in a similar manner to the original stories and Krieger Female model 68c #6345 who ends up with a Commissar in the regiment.
The Krieger and I
Stare
So these Kriegers landed here some months ago and set up their main camp outside town, nobody really knows why, but the news say it is an ongoing progress to reinforce the planet in perilous times and to promote intra-world relations. At the beginning we were all a bit worried of how this would change our society and so, but it turned out that the Kriegers were more than happy to mainly keep to themselves and fortify their camp, so we didn’t have much problem. After a while though they popped up in town, often moving in small groups, or squads, of five or so in full trenchcoat, combat gear and always the gasmask, but this we got used to as well, I mean, we have a pretty diverse ethnicity here in town, what was some more? Only thing that was a bit unnerving was that they pretty much never spoke, but they managed to communicate with body language and notes, so it all worked out. In fact one of my friends happened to get into a relationship with one of them, and although I’ve understood there have been some cultural barriers it seems to work out fine.
Sometimes me and the guys would see some of the Kriegers try to pick up girls at the bar, but I guess a combination of the ever-present gasmask and the non-verbal communication made them look like creeps and pretty much always got the cold shoulder. I guess that I could put in a joke here about getting women isn’t the kind of prolonged siege the Kriegers are used to, but I’ll refrain, I’m past that stage by now.
See the cause of that is because among the Krieger-guys there were also a couple of Krieger-girls. At the beginning it was hard to pick them out because of their similar clothing, but after a couple of months many Kriegers started removing the masks inside bars and similar. I had already seen one when I had dinner at my friend’s, he mentioned something about “facial recognition”, so I suppose it has something to do with that. Anyway, this was the first time I had seen others, other than the one my friend is living with, and Emperor was I surprised to see that these ones were so similar. I could hardly tell them apart, even from my friend’s Krieger.
So there I sat, staring at the Krieger-girls like some kind of weirdo when I suddenly meet with eye-contact with one of them. I get that funny feeling that happens and try to look away, but somehow something inside me tells me to go for it. In an attempt to salvage the situation I keep eye-contact and walk up to her and ask her if the place beside her is taken, to which she only nods and I sit down. I offer her a drink (now that I think about it I never saw her drink from it, but the level constantly sank, so I guess she did when I looked away) and all that normal pick-up-a-girl stuff, start talking with her, and while I can’t remember exactly what I said I soon noticed that she never talked, but simply nodded, or shook her head when she disagreed, with what I said.
Most people would have found it creepy and odd, and I have to admit, so did I, but I found that it was oddly relaxing. No matter what I said she always had her attention focused on me and it really felt like she was listening to everything I said. In fact I kept talking through the night about everything possible, about my life, about the planet, about what I thought of the Kriegers and wondered about them (this lead to a lot of nodding and shaking as she answered my questions). I think I got her to smile a bit, so it seemed like it worked out pretty ok.
So we sat there until closing time before we had to leave, and while I turned around to get my jacket she donned her combat gear, mask and shouldered her lasgun (which had to be stored with the coat after an incident in a nearby bar my friend might or might not have been involved in). I don’t know how she managed, because I only turned away for a split sec and didn’t hear more than a quiet shuffle, but nonetheless she was all dressed up when I turned around. I have to admit that I wondered if it really was my Krieger for a second, because there were a number of them moving out at the same time, but I could feel her blue eyes fixed on me through the lenses of the mask, so I assumed it was her.
The walk home was pretty uneventful, I told her where I lived (which was on the way to the encampment) and she gestured that she lived in the encampment and some sign that told me to wait. She went up to one Krieger that was currently boarding a Chimera and I assume they communicated somehow, because he nodded and the two saluted before she returned to my side. I kept on talking as we walked, it was a pretty nice night, not too chilly, so I noted that she could remove the mask. I dunno if she was shy about something, but she just shook her head when I asked her, so I let it go.
We arrived at my door after a while, and I was contemplating if I should ask her up (I was also trying to come up with a good way to do it, I didn’t know her interests and I hardly had any earthworks or bayonet collection for “inspection”), when she saluted me. I was stunned for a second before I followed in suit, upon which she handed over a note to me, then returned to attention and started marching down the street. I watched her until she turned around the corner, and then looked at the paper. It said the following:
XXXX Private Krieger Female Model 68b #6346 68th Krieg Regiment, Company XXII, Platoon Gamma Vox Channel: 445X6 XXXX
I guess this was the Krieger equivalent of getting a girl’s phone number. All in all a pretty good evening I guess.
Communicate
I’ve always had this problem with calling girls, how long should one wait? What should one say? When on the day should I call? Now, when I was going to call a Krieger-girl this anxeitey became doubled. I called my previously mentioned friend about it and I guess he congratulated me and gave me some tips, although he admitted that his situation had been a bit different. Anyway, I decided to follow the word of the old and wise and waited three days before I picked up the phone and asked the operator to hook me up to the vox-net. The receiver was picked up barely after the first signal had rung through and I heard heavy breathing through what I presumed was a gasmask, it sounded like a guy, but I couldn’t be sure since the receiver was silent. It felt like minutes passed, but it was probably only a couple of seconds, before I decided to speak.
“Ahem, is this Platoon Gamma? I would like to speak with… Krieger Female Model 68b #6346. Is she there?”
It was silent for a couple of seconds before I heard some mumble. I couldn’t hear what he said, but since he left it on and the breathing disappeared I presume he went to get her. After a while someone new picked up the receiver, a lighter breathing, so I guessed it was Krieg Female Model 68b #6346. As with the one who picked up the phone I assumed it was best that I took the initiative.
“Uhm, it’s me from the bar the other day, I was… uh thinking perhaps you want to go out again?”
I’m not sure, but I think I heard a happy squeal from her side and a lot of shuffling around, as if the whole platoon was standing behind her and listening in.
“I uh, take that as a yes? So should we meet tomorrow and watch a movie? There’s one starting at seven in town tomorrow.”
The breathing got faster and somehow I could see her in front of me nodding. Then everything happened so fast I barely remember in what order. I heard a large boom and some shouting in the background, then a lot of shuffling before the phone hung up. I think I heard a mumble similar to “sorry” but I’m not sure.
I was a bit worried, since we didn’t set up a time to meet, but when I tried to call back I didn’t get a reply. Tomorrow came anyway, and I decided to prepare myself to wait outside the theater at seven. I didn’t need to though, because at six the doorbell rang and my Krieger was waiting outside in a freshly cleaned and pressed trenchcoat and full combat gear. I did spot some dried dirt on her boots and the shovel on her back, so I assumed she had been on drill since the call.
I finished my preparations and we walked downtown to the theater. On the way I heeded my friend’s advice and told her that the movie was about how the insidious Xenos and Hereteks together worked to try and restrict the development of humans. I also pointed out that the movie is just a work of fiction, and nothing to get overly riled up over. I think she understood most of what I said, and I wonder what would’ve happened if I hadn’t, because I could see her glaring at the blue faces on the posters through her mask already when we were approaching the cinema.
Anyway, I paid for the tickets, bought some popcorn and soda and we got two seats. The movie had run for a while, but was still pretty popular, so it was perhaps half-full. As it begun I wondered if I should have chosen a romantic movie instead to increase my chances, but it seemed to work out anyway. I have to admit that I did feel a bit of sympathy for the blue aliens in the movie, but Krieger Female Model 68b #6346 was all on the humans, she even cried a tear when the colonel died towards the end, so I tried to keep my face as much as possible. When we were walking out I could feel her glaring at the others who had more openly shown their feelings for the Xenos, but I think she tried her hardest to behave.
When we were walking away from the theater and was pretty alone from the street I suddenly felt her grip my arm and press it against her, I looked at her and she met my gaze through the polished lenses on her gasmask. She didn’t speak, but it felt like she was trying to convey her fears for similar things happening right now in the Imperium and that she wanted us to stay true to the Emperor forever. Or I dunno, perhaps I’m just imagining things, I smiled at her anyway, and it seemed to calm her down, although she kept the grip on my arm. Not that I minded, though.
I waited until we were sitting down at a nearby fast-food restaurant (not so flashy I know, but I was in a bit of money trouble and considering the speed the burger disappeared in front of her I don’t think she disagreed with my choice) before I started talking about the movie. I was pretty careful with what I said, not to seem like a Xenos-lover, and I praised the humans for their work in the movie. We (I) slipped into religion after that and I happened to mention I hadn’t been that religious before, just praying to the Emperor from time to time to help me out. I totally forgot how fanatical Kriegers could be and was afraid I would scare her away. First a borderline heretical movie and now this.
I swallowed and had focused on my dwindling soda as I had spoken to get away for a bit, but when I looked up I could only see mercy in her eyes, she took it better than I had expected. She gripped my hand and I felt in her gaze how she wanted to restore my faith in the Emperor and in that moment I felt that for her I would do just that. Despite the recovery I decided to stay silent for the rest of the meal, which now for once felt a bit awkward.
We stayed silent on the way back home to my place as well, although she took my hand as we walked, so I thought my chances weren’t all blown. This time she kept her mask off however, and after a while the silence didn’t feel so awkward after all. In the end I actually felt that it would just be nice if we could continue to walk like this forever. Alas, that could not be, so we soon found ourselves in front of my door. I decided to take my chances and inhaled as I was about to ask her up.
Before I had time to say anything, however, she shook her head and indicated at her shovel, so assumed she had exercises early tomorrow. She then smiled and made her hand into a phone, as to tell me to call her. I was so relieved that I didn’t notice me snapping to attention in reaction to her saluting (I worked at a convenience store at the time, and the Kriegers often saluted when they were checking out their things, so it had become a reflex) and before I had time to react she had given me a kiss on the cheek. I found myself again watching after her as she disappeared down the road. At that point I think I realized I was in love.
Grant
While the last incident went smoothly I decided to call my friend again for a couple of tips the next day. We talked for a while and he revealed to me that he was planning to propose to his girlfriend that very day and that he was in the middle of preparations, so we had to cut it short, but he suggested a couple of places for me to go with my own Krieger-girl that had worked for him. I could swear I heard fighting in the background and when I asked about it he just dismissed it as a “distraction” before he told me he had to hang up.
After waiting a while I called back to Gamma Platoon to see if I could get a hold of Krieg Female Model 68b #6346. Again it was the same silent heavy gasmask breathing that answered, but this time I took the initiative faster and asked pretty much as soon as he had picked up. I could hear him shuffle away and then come back again before I got a dismissive mumble which I interpreted as “She’s out” as he hung up on me.
I wasn’t worried though, as she had indicated she had things to do that day, so I decided I’d take an easy night and watched television. Around nine PM I heard my doorbell ring, I hadn’t expected anyone so I was quite surprised to discover Krieg Female Model 68b #6346 to stand on the other side. She saluted me in greeting and handed over a piece of paper. I saluted back and took the paper and was about to offer her to go in as she pointed at the paper, wanting me to read it.
It was hand written, probably in haste, and notably not very official (first time I’ve ever seen such a thing with a Krieger). It had her as the ‘from’ and me as the ‘to’ and one single line of text after that.
“Requesting permission to speak.”
I looked up at her, puzzled, wondering if this really was regulations, and if I was one to grant her (I didn’t hold any military rank, the closest was my brother who is a corporal in the PDF fighting insurgents in the desert regions), but I could hardly deny her.
“Permission granted,” I said in the most military-wise tone I could muster.
She snapped into a new salute in response, grinning broadly as she spoke. Her voice was light, fitting her fair skin, blue eyes and light hair perfectly, with a touch of off-worlder accent.
“Requesting permission to express feelings!” She practically shouted at me.
“Granted,” I replied quickly, partly because I wanted it, but also to speed up the progress of getting her inside, as I was sure my neighbours would soon show up and wonder what was happening.
Before I had time to usher her in though, she leaped at me, tackling me down on the floor and planting her lips on mine. It felt like an eternity that we just laid there, pressing our bodies against eachother and kissing. I think I heard one of my neighbours opening and quickly closing their door again as we were sprawled on my doormat. After a while (during which I had managed to sneak my hands in under her greatcoat, but not yet penetrated her clothing under it) we separated our faces and she looked into my eyes with that same old solid stare.
“I love you.” We both said at the same time, I guess it sounds cliché but it actually was that way. Ok, I did see her move her lips to speak and I guess what she was going to say, so I took the chance. We kissed again, before we got up and I closed the door as she got her pack off. I cooked up some recaf and we sat down in front of the television. I have to admit that we didn’t do much drinking or watching, but a lot of cuddling and talking instead. While I had enjoyed talking to her earlier it was nothing against having a real conversation with her. I wondered about the seemingly sudden change and she told me that she had been inspired by seeing her sister’s boyfriend propose to her (it was now I remembered that the Krieger-girl my friend was with was 68b #6345 and that she was 68b #6346) and that she didn’t want to go through the long process her sister had (including a visit to their father, 68, one that I guessed would show up for me too sooner or later) but wanted to be with me now.
We continued the night in the same manner, talking, cuddling and eventually sleeping together. The next day she was gone by the time I woke up (although I faintly remember a bayonet-poke in my half-sleep), but a note in the kitchen said she would be back. I considered calling my friend to say I was dating his fiancée’s sister, but I decided not to, leaving them to enjoy the day for themselves. Nonetheless Krieger Female Model 68b #6346 (she asked me to call her Sibylle when were just us two together from that day forward) showed up a couple of hours later with a permission to take up residence with the civilian populace, namely me, and we have lived together since.
The Logs of 68th Krieg Field Artillery Regimental Commissar's Communications with the Commissariat
Entry One
Sir,
Throne willing, this reaches you in the best of health. You were absolutely right sir. My tenure in the Segmentum’s Propeganda Ministry was too long. I find myself disgracefully out of practice for my duties as a Regimental Commissar. I believe I understand your reasons for assigning me here to the 68th Krieger field artillery. The regiment is impeccably well disciplined. I took to heart your advice, that a good commissar should announce himself with a field execution within four hours of his arrival on post, but sir, in spite of my most rigorous scrutiny, I could find no breach of regulation anywhere.
Sir, I understand how unusual this may sound, but I’m not sure the 68th Krieger require a Commissar. I’m not sure what I am expected to do here. My duties seem vestigial, ceremonial, and Sir, there’s something else. They’re watching me, always watching. I know the sight of a guardsman at attention should fill any Imperial citizen with the warmth of the Emperor's confidence, but by the saints these people make me shiver; the glint on their lenses, the hiss of their respirators. Sir, I want my old assignment back. Please Sir, I’m sorry that your assistant and I… Sir it will never happen again. If you’d put me behind a desk again––Oh saints I can't send this. Delete that last part. Stop scribing. Oh, what was the command? Cease. Terminate. Desist. End. Hey, you there, Ensign, find the Enginseer. I’m having trouble with my servitor.
Recorded 4105988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe Servitor #303440288
Meanwhile, at the Commissariat
"Commissar, the reason you were assigned to the 68th Krieg Field Artillery Regiment... was primarily to deal with any issues that may arise between your charges and the local civilians. And to give them something resembling a normal human being to practice their social skills on."
- unintelligible*
"...you do realize that hysterical laughter followed by uncontrollable sobbing puts enough demerits on your record to lose Commissariat Ice Cream Privileges for a period of no less than one month?"
- unintelligible*
"No, I'm not...no, I'm not going to- WOULD YOU LET ME FINISH?!"
- throat-clearing noise, followed by exasperated sigh*
"No, I'm not going to take Mr. Buttons away. Teddy Bear Deployment Rights don't come under review unless you've done something like, say, suffer the Xenos to live."
- unintelligible*
"...What do you mean "the head of the PTA is a Lictor?"
- unintelligible*
"No, I don't care that it makes cookies."
- unintelligible*
"...wait, did you just say "Inverted Key Lime Double Fudge Chunk? That can't be possible, nobody's seen that STC in-"
- unintelligible*
"...I'll call you back."
- disconnection*
"Amberley?"
"Yes, Ciaphas?"
"Do you think I'm drinking too much amasec, or not enough?"
"...I'll pour each of us a double."
Entry Two
I’ve just completed the inspection of today’s muster. There isn’t really anything to log, as usual. The 68th continue to adhere to every directive in the primer, to the letter. Morale in the regiment is hard to gauge. I haven’t heard them saying anything seditious or heretical. I haven’t heard them saying anything. No executions yet. No reprimands to give, formal or informal.
The Astropath handed me the strangest communiqué from the Lord-Commissar. There was a lot of warp interference, but it sounded like––It’s better not to think of things at the old office. It doesn’t sound like he’ll take me back anyway that son of a––When did you get here? What are you doing in my tent? Well, say something. Who are you? Let me see your dogtags. Come on, I’ll take your number even if I have to read them myself.
Oh my throne, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were a––I didn’t realize this was a mixed gender regiment. I didn’t know Kriegers were ever, you know, girls. There button that back up, that’s better. I can read it just fine from here. Six Eight C Six Three Four Five. Yes, um, that will be all, dismissed. Go. There’s no reason for you to be in my sleeping quarters. Just, fine, I’ll go.
Recorded 4106988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288
Intercept
"Speaking of poetry. While I was in the middle rubbing sacred unguents on my autoscribe to get it working again I found this note.
Rosen sind Rot, Mohne sind zu, Ich werde gehen nach Lebensborn und Schlafen mit Du
I think 68c left it. But I don't speak Kriegermanish. Anybody got a clue what she's trying to tell me?"
"Ah yes, I recognize the beginning. It appears to be an archaic Terran verse, one known for its many variations. Pre-Unification certainly, in fact, I wouldn't be surprised if it dates even further back than that. Let's see.
"Roses are red, Violets are blue. I will go to Lebensborn and"
Oh. Oh my. Well then, I'll just take that from you and send you on your way. No lad, do not question your superiors. Back to work with you."
Entry Three
Sir,
I hope the Astropath doesn’t have any trouble understanding my penmanship. Forgive me if it causes any problems. I was wrong to assume these guardsman had nothing to hide behind their respirators. They’re up to something, I’m sure of it. I used to think they didn’t speak at all, but I suspect they’re only playing dumb. It’s a ruse! I swear, sir, I’ve heard them mumbling to each other when they think I’m not listening. They’re coordinating something behind my back.
They’ve left someone to keep tabs on me every moment of the day. She’s there when I wake up. She follows me on my morning inspection. When the troop is on parade, their eyes are on her not me, at least I think they are. It’s hard to tell. I’m not sure how to proceed sir, she never leaves my side. I can’t even use my autoscribe for letters anymore. She’ll hear every word. She’s behind me now. I hardly ever see her move when she’s in my tent, but I swear she seems a step closer to me every time I turn around. Every day, she watches me until I sleep. She’s there when I wake up. I think it’s the same one every day, Six Eight C. I haven’t changed out of my uniform in three days. If I don’t think of something soon I’ll have to file a formal reprimand against my self for failing to pass inspection, Article 4733/67y.
4108988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Entry Four
It is the same one, watching me every day. I’m certain of it. I had my eye on her last night, and an idea came to me. As I was pacing my tent, writing my last letter, I bumped into her intentionally. I knew instantly that it was at the very least another female because of the soft, yielding feel of her chest, but that wasn’t the point of my plan. My pen left a stain on her right breast, just between the second and third buttons of her greatcoat. When I woke up this morning, the stain was still there.
I’m not sure what to make of it. I was certain my minder would leave when I slept, to report change shifts with a replacement for the next day. Something else must be going on. When does she find a moment to tell them everything I’m doing? When does she sleep? If she isn’t spying on me, then why, for the sake of everything that’s holy in the Imperium is she still in my tent. What on Terra could she want?
4109988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Entry Five
Commence. Begin. Initiate. Oh, It’s started already. Delete. Erase. Nevermind. I might have been a bit hasty to jump to the conclusion that Six Eight C was informing on my actions. As certain I may be that I have never left her sight, I’m nearly as sure that she hasn’t been more than a pace or two away from me this whole week. As such, I have resumed the use of my autoscribe. Also, I am out of ink.
It’s awkward, I’ll admit, to talk about her in the third person. She’s right over there. She always is. I presume she knows whom the pronoun I keep dropping refers to. Or to whom it refers, or whatever. Why can’t my autoscribe have an editing cogitator. Anyway I suppose I’m beginning to get used to having her around. Yes, to having you around, Six Eight C Six Three Four Four. Or was it Six Eight C Six Three Four Seven? No. No, you don’t need to show me again it really doesn’t––Oh, Six Three Four Five, that’s uh, a very pretty, uh, number.
Recorded 4110988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288
Entry Six
This afternoon I finally changed into a new uniform. It feels wonderful. I can’t believe it took me so long to think of a way to get rid of Six Eight C. It was so simple, I could have done it days ago. This morning I was inspecting the troops, as I always do. I was thinking of what a waste of time it always is, nothing to report, when I noticed my chance. The ink stain was still there where I’d made it, on her chest.
I prodded it roughly with my finger and said, “Guardswoman, are you aware of Article 4733/67y? That’s Ill-Treatment or Neglect of Accoutrements. Take her away” And that was all it took. I heard her make a sharp gasp in her respirator and then the sergeant was dragging her away. She kept staring at me, what a look.
Now I’m alone. What a feeling. It’s wonderful I can lounge in here in my shirtsleeves. I can say anything I want to my autoscribe, and tonight, oh tonight I can sleep alone. Tomorrow I can roll out of my cot and take my time slipping into a nice fresh uniform. All I have to do in the morning is heft my bolt pistol to the parade ground and––Throne on Terra She’s going to be shot! Sweet Sanguinius what do I do?
Recorded 4111988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288
Entry Seven
The Seventh entry is comprised of three separate ending scenarios, by three different authors. The second, 7B is by the original poster.
Entry Seven A
She died in front of me.
I don't know how it happened, but somehow, one of the enemies of the Imperium managed to get an artillery strike on the parade grounds. They must have managed to raid a supply dump for the shells, they were standard Krieg toxic gas. Apparently they found a makeshift launcher near the hive covered in chaos runes. I don't, I don't..
I was going to pardon her. Let her off with a lecture and restricted rations. But the shells hit before I had got to her, and, and, and
I don't know what - whoever it was who launched the attack - was thinking. All the Kriegers were wearing their masks. The only one at risk was me, of course, I didn't have mine on me. It was a parade, dammit! It was supposed to be safe territory!
She saved my life. It.. it was the first time I saw her eyes when she wrestled her mask onto my face. It was the same look that my sister gave to me back before the days at the Schola, just a concerned look of someone not wanting to see someone they cared for hurt. Someone that they lo- they lo-
They're shelling the hive. I don't have the heart to stop them. End. Stop. Get out. Get-
Recorded 4111988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288
Entry Seven B
How did it come to this. I wasn’t a bad student in the Schola. Those posters I wrote in the Ministry ended up on walls all through the Segmentum. I’m sure I could have had my old, safe job back if I’d just kept my head down a little longer. That face, though, that haunting face would never leave my head. Those eyes, imploring me through the lenses were just––what could I have done.
I could spend the rest of my life, how ever short that may be, pondering about how I could have played it differently, if I hadn’t acted like a fool, or if I hadn’t had to be the hero. Funny that the bravest thing I’ve ever done is the blackest mark I’ll ever have on my career. I had to make a choice, a stand.
Throne, imagine the look on my old instructor's face when he heard I’d ended up with a Penal Legion. What a waste, a good name, with a good record. But, you know, I think I made the right choice. There’s only one face I care if I’ll see or not for the rest of my life, and the funny thing is I didn’t even see it for the first time until yesterday. Now at least I’ll get to see it until the very end. I told Six Eight C that the explosive collar brought out her eyes, and you know, I meant it. That’s when I knew it was all worth it. That’s when I saw her smile.
Recorded 4111988.M41
4th Penal Legion – Saghalain
Entry Seven C
Start scribing or whatever your activation code is, blasted Enginseer said he can't come have a look at you for another week, their re-sanctifying all the Russes this week.
I did it, I saved her. It was awkward, it was unprofessional, and it's going to be even worse, but I used her as an example of wasting the Emperors resources. They bought it. Every last one of them gave a solemn nod as I finished explaining that executing her would waste vital resources that the Imperium needs to continue fighting the Heretic, the Xenos and the Traitor.
However, after pouring over my dataslates, the only way I could commute the sentence was to assign her to myself personally, to ensure no more infractions are committed. When this was announced, I could have sworn I saw them all smile, or whatever passes as a smile under those masks.
By time I made it back to my quarters, she had already set up a spare bunk, had brewed a pot of recaf, and was tidying my desk.
It was then that it occurred to me, I had a Kreiger for a maid.
Recorded 4111988.M41
68th Krieg Field Artillery – Saghalain
Autoscribe #303440288
Meanwhile, in the Warp
Somewhere beyond the veil of reality, in a realm far outside of the bounds of human ability to comprehend it, four beings of phenomenal power watched the scene unfold in silence.
Finally, after what could have been an eternity, or a nanosecond, or quite possibly both at once, one of the beings spoke.
"WELL, THIS WAS BORING. GUESS I'D BETTER CALL KHARN, TELL HIM HE'S GOT A WEDDING TO CRASH-"
Without so much as turning their heads, Slaanesh and Tzeentch simultaneously punched Khorne in the dick.
As the Blood God opened his mouth to scream an eldritch wail of indescribable suffering, a vaguely hand-shaped mass extruded itself from Nurgle's bloated form and securely fastened itself over the mouth and nose of Khorne.
While of course the sound of the festering pustules all over the body of Nurgle rhythmically oozing and contracting would be completely impossible to render accurately for mortal ears (not without destroying the unfortunate listener's soul down to the last fragment of their broken psyche), the noise it made while its hideous appendage muffled Khorne's fading cries of agony was remarkably similar to the words "Ssshhh, you're ruining the moment."
The three entities still conscious returned to watching in contented silence.