Reunion

"Consider the magnitude of your duty at leisure, but act without hesitation when action is required."

— Roboute Guilliman, as laid down in the Codex

I lift my head and see the sergeant. He walks to me, with minimum movement but with a shattering might. My right arm supports me whilst my left one clutches my stomach. I feel bad in my head, it was the left part of my head, the one that got hit by a plasma gun. I look at my left gauntlet, it was broken, metal hanged and wire within it spewing out. I had sacrificed my left arm to block the plasma gun and it broke, its dark green hue replaced by a black smoke color splatted onto it.

I grunt, trying to speak if I could through my gritted teeth, "Hello Sergeant Moranius..."

"Hello Yeshamiel, it seems you took damage to your head..." Moranius chuckles, he lends me his hand. I grapple to it and get up. I turn to Colonel Marcia, she looks at me in shock.

"My lord, I suggest immediate help be given." She suggests to me while looking at my burnt face.

I nod at her, touching the scalp of my head, about 1/4 was burnt, grateful not all of my hair was burnt. I look at my left gauntlet, it was broken from the powerful plasma shot and took most of the hit, my left arm was also burnt, I hiss in pain as scabs form quickly on my arm. I check my backpack in me to find stim-injectors. I quickly inject the injector into one of the socket ports on my thighs, I feel the stim do its magic, quickly healing me, any sores quickly healed.

I grab my jaw and crack it back to its place. I walk up to Moranius, "Sergeant Moranius, where are the others?"

The sergeant sighs and says, looking down, "One of them died, ambushed by several mechs that you seem to have also fought." He points to the mech. Though his face is shrouded by its helmet, I see his eyes showing his grief, I remember, I look at the corpses, both Liberators and guardsmen.

They both thought they do good yet are both of us even good? On hive worlds, 99.9% of the population works in fear, poverty, and depression, not even seeing the sky. Maybe the people of Chara 86 were sick of the fear and poverty that always followed them, were we even right to say we did good?

Soldiers that gave their lives for the Imperium are just grounded into corpse starch, food, by the throne, we are not good. I remember when I was in my homeworld, my family was poor and were hunted by the criminals that ruled the world, those criminals were killed by Orks so in definition, they did good. On the contrary, the Orks also killed the innocent so they are neither good nor bad, for the Emperor, I am also not good.

I remember my days as a scout, now part of the 6th company, unlike most chapters, we choose the role and what we carry to show our individuality yet I am seen the same to all, I see all Orks as the same, so am I no different?

I thought that when I became a full-on battle brother, I would protect humanity's walls but no, I protect their prison...but is it not better? Better to live in a world to suffer but grateful to not see the horrors of such a hostile galaxy?

Shaking my head, I ignore my questions and see 5 men come in, with green bags with a plus sign and the word: Medic. They were here to help me, I look at sergeant Moranius, "I will see myself to heal my wounds." I point to my obvious burn, I felt it but I had worse burns such as when several plasma guns were fired at me as a test of endurance.

I walk out of the large room and walk down the large cement hall, seeing medics tending to injured guardsmen's wounds. The 5 medics follow me and point to a room that I enter. The room was a medbay, there were 18 beds and 12 were being used for guardsmen on life support. One of the medics bandages my face when I sit down in a corner.

Moranius walks to my corner and tosses my bolter and helmet near me. I chuckle as the head of my head is fitted with a black plate stim, a plate placed onto the face like an eyepatch except it heals you. It covers 1/4 of my head with it, my jaw and cheeks covered by a similar yet thinner plate so I can still eat and speak properly.

As I try to get up, my body for some reason starts to slowly shut down, my eyes close slowly and I fall to the ground, cracking it. I hear the medics shout and panic but I cannot move a muscle and my eyes shut themselves