Marsh Silas II: Bloody Platoon

Part VI: Friends Like These: Chapter 41

"Hold fast!"

Marsh shook when he heard the unfamiliar voice. He opened his eyes and looked around. Everyone's gaze rose to the tender of the pusher locomotive. Standing there was an imposing looking fellow wearing an advanced, fully-enclosed version of the Tri-dome pattern helmet. His Carapace Armor was rugged and battle-worn, but nonetheless glorious for all its purity seals. Other Kasrkin stood beside him and on the ground among the engine.

The elite soldier dropped from the tender, landed low on his feet, then strode up to Isaev without a care. Isaev was bristling now.

"Who are you to challenge my order?"

The Kasrkin released the seal on his helmet and removed it. Raven hair fell around his head. Isaev's eyes widened. "Warden-Colonel von Bracken?"

"I have come with the 217th to observe the maneuvers of this action," he said darkly. "But this is the spectacle I've watched and I've watched for too long." Von Bracken strode over to Marsh Silas and looked him squarely in the eyes. All Marsh could do was stare back, stupefied. "I see no intent to betray the God-Emperor or the Imperium we so dearly defend in this man. What I see before me is a fellow who has merely taken a misguided step."

Von Bracken tapped him on the shoulder. "Bonds are forged in times of war and some men cannot give them up so easily. We ought to commend the Lieutenant for his willingness to expose himself to the enemy for the sake of his brethren, traitors though they are."

"Warden-Colonel, please—"

"Shut up, son, I'm trying to save your life," von Bracken said from the corner of his mouth. "Now, if I were to strip this man of his tunic you would see nothing but scars which he has received in defense of Cadia. I know his record, I know his story. Cross is a Hero of the Imperium and no man would betray his people or his planet for the sake of some heretics. Is that not correct, Silas Cross?" he asked over his shoulder.

Marsh Silas stared at the Warden-Colonel, then at the faces of his bewildered and hopeful comrades. Osniah looked ready to lash out and Isaev remained poised. Isenhour, on his right, nodded sorrowfully. He shut his eyes as they brimmed with tears. The 45th, their brothers in arms, defenders of Cadia—Afdin.

"Yes, sir," Marsh said.

"What do you say, Sergeant?" Isenhour breathed through his teeth and nodded again. Both Marsh and Isenhour hung their heads low. Von Bracken held up his hands triumphantly. "So, you see, Colonel, these men are no traitors. To execute them would be inexcusable, especially when they've brought your crucial intelligence. The enemy are laying down their arms at noon; what better time to strike? I vouch for them and their word as a Warden of Cadia."

Isaev raised his voice in protest but von Bracken held up his hand. "My voucher places them under my protection, I shall remind you," he said charitably. Isaev's rigid posture deflated; it was a wordless acquiescence. "But I do understand though, you must set an example as they did leave their posts without orders. A much lighter punishment is due; ten lashes shall suffice!"

"Ten lashes!?" Osniah blustered. "Throne, man, are you not sane? These two men—"

Von Bracken snatched Osniah by the collar of his ornate tunic and dragged him close.

"You will address me as Warden-Colonel, you off-world trash, for we are not equals. Any man who cannot police his own regiment is not fit for command the Astra Militarum's legions. You should be shot for your failure to control your men. Test me again and I will levy the punishment myself." He released Osniah into the dirt, letting the officer tumble down the railroad embankment until his entire uniform was soiled.

Wiping his hands as if he had sullied them, von Bracken smiled at Isaev. "Ten lashes, then the Attilans will return these men their arms and helms and they shall rejoin their comrades?"