Marsh Silas IIS: Squad Stories

Chapter 19

Isabella and Sydney looked different in the red lamp light. There was something more ominous in the shadows underlying their eyes and jaws. Those happy smiles they wore seemed more knowing and sinister.

Hyram gazed at the pict of his wife and son. His thumb ran back and forth across the smooth, glossy texture. Eventually, when he could not look any longer, he placed it back in a musette bag he kept strapped on his chestplate. It was attached to webbing over his heart. He thumped it once and lowered his Night Eye goggles once again, illuminating the interior of Lieutenant Namgung's Taurox Prime.

All of the Kasrkin of the platoon command squad wore the same night vision equipment. In conjunction with their helmets and masks, whether these were bandannas, hoods, or supplemental armor pieces, they obscured their faces. Commissar Fremantle and Jacinto both had their own set but hadn't put them on yet. Their faces were illuminated by the former's lighter and the psyker spun his finger around the flame. It rose higher and swirled slowly in a miniature cyclone.

"I-I n-n-never play with f-fire," Jacinto whispered to the Commissar. "I t-try to main-t-tain my skills with s-s-small flames."

"Surely, you would better hone your power by practicing with larger flames," Fremantle pointed out. "It is the smallest fire which the untrained and improper must practice with."

"S-sometimes, the smallest light burns brightest," Jacinto murmured. "A psyker c-c-can underestimate their own p-power. They m-m-muh-may let it grow b-beyond their control. Something so small might ex-ex-explode. F-focusing all thought o-on s-s-something so miniscule requires re-refinement of your energy and t-teaches discipline and c-control." The psyker looked up at the Commissar. "Control takes precedence."

Fremantle nodded, his stern expression moderated by the curious glint in his purple eyes. Jacinto waved his finger and the swirling tendril of flame returned to its spout. The Commissar flipped the cap over it and tucked the lighter away.

Freya's panting caught Hyram's attention. The dog was excitedly wagging her tail. Cobb scratched the top of her head.

"Don't worry girl, we're almost there." When the handler sat up, he looked up at Cornelius. The preacher sat beside him with his prayer beads laced between his fingers. "Beg pardon, but why have you not taken Night Eye goggles, sir?"

"Why illuminate the darkness when the Emperor does so for me?" Cornelius asked boisterously.

A yellow-green flash on Hyram's left drew his gaze. Marsh Silas projected a holographic map from his Slate-monitron. In the darkness of the Taurox Prime's interior cabin, it cast an eerie, wide glow. The dashboard monitors emanated white, creating stark slivers through the gloom of sickly green. Hyram got up and stood behind Marsh's seat to get a better look.

The holographic map display denoted the convoy's position with a miniature yellow Aquila. It ran up the long, winding road which spanned across the map. Bloody Platoon and their comrades in 3rd Platoon were very far to the east. Practically on the fringe of the area of operations, there were few Imperial facilities. Most were drawn back to the coast or the flat ranges and river plateaus. The surrounding mountains, ridges, and spurs were home to artillery forts and mountaineering regiments. Not even the Marked Men or the other Traitor Guardsmen dared to press that far, choosing the vastness of the east to move and hide.

There was only one more kilometer to the proposed meeting point between the Kasrkin and Romilly's assets. Marsh closed the projection and the light winked away.

"Just a few minutes more, sir," Womack, the driver, said eagerly. "See? I told you we wouldn't run into anything. I'm quite used to night-driving. I used to drive Cargo-8's and—"