Snippet #2622118

The Commissar raised an arm and moved her finger to indicate the psyker was to follow her. In case it wasn't clear, as she passed the woman she said "Come with me." She walked with considerable purpose, boots clacking against the deck. She expected the psyker to keep pace. "I wasn't waiting for you," she lied. "It was a matter of convenience." They turned a corner (or at least the Commissar did; she would have waited with almost palpable impatience without Belva), bringing them to an empty corridor and onto a circuitous route to the hangar.
"You've been assigned a handler." The statement was blunt and factual, but the Commissar knew how to make it sound more like a question than an observation. "He is new. He isn't experienced with psykers. And he's a few pay grades below knowing what a fuck-up you can turn our operation into." She also knew how to turn observations into thinly-veiled threats. "I'm not. So watching your ass is as much my priority as it is his. I value what your capabilities mean to the survival of the squad and the success of our mission. I will be over your shoulder at all times ground-side. That is as much for your protection as it is everyone else's. I trust you understand what I mean." The hand resting on the hilt of her bolt pistol wasn't meant to be subtle in any way. "What I say supersedes your handler and if I say shit I expect you to ask me how much and what color."

When the Commissar approached their drop-ship, she let her displeasure be known. The Pilgrim had put them in line but let them slack at-ease? "And when the fuck did the Emperor command that his soldiers stand around like the lazy fucks their drill sergeants had trained them not to be?" She expected the whole squad (Pilgrim included) to snap to attention. The other squads that knew what was good for them didn't look in the yelling Commissar's direction. Somehow her voice managed to get carried over the boots-on-metal, grunting, and yelling that came from the rest of the hangar preparing for their drop. "You'll have time to stand at-ease when you're dead, and if this is how you wannabe troopers prepare for a drop I expect that to be damn well soon. Deacon! If you can't show me which one of your hymns commands the Holy Rollers to slack-off I'll have you standing at attention in your sleep. Pilgrim! Is this how you control the men?" She finally reached the squad; that it took her that was testament to the size of the hangar as well as her dedication to yelling. "Do you see any of these other squads milling around wasting their damn time standing at-ease with their thumbs up their asses? Why aren't all of your men's gear stowed yet?" She didn't pause while she figured out how to don her grav-chute. "We're the Imperial Guard not the Limperially Disabled! You may as well have ordered them to put on their night gowns and give their nearest soldier a handjob with how much work they're getting down right now." She took the psyker's bag and her own up the ramp and set them next to each other inside the drop ship. She stomped back down, adjusting her hat. "If I ever catch any of you standing around while there's a mission to prepare for I will shoot you for criminal neglect. There is always a weapon to inspect, armor to clean, a deck to swab, or... I don't care if you're checking your boyfriend's asshair for lice, but I better fucking see you doing something. Am I understood?!"
Simon tried to suppress a smile. It was difficult. "Yes Commissar. Always vigilant, always moving. In the field of battle and when preparing to enter it!"

When Praetus arrived, the Commissar looked him over. Whatever she thought was not revealed by her emotionless face. "Well? Fall in already." She listened to Augusts offer the special 'chute to the psyker but had no reaction. She stood nearby watching the squad, now either at attention or busying itself with something, until the Sergeant finally arrived.

The Commissar's arrangement of her equipment and Belva's had been particular, to ensure she was right behind the psyker in the drop order. The Cleric was right before her, eager to be the first to jump. Their proximity gave Rascal the opportunity to lean close to Belva and (in the eerie darkness and not-silence of the dropship's belly) say, "I'm right behind you. Every step." Whether they were comforting words or a threat was for Belva to decide.
The Cleric genuinely offered what he intended to be far more comforting words. After the pre-drop check (which was answered by both him and Rascal with a series of "Check, check, check"'s), he spoke clearly and calmly:
"Every human being has a place within the God-Emperor's divine order, and embracing that place wholly and totally with one's mind, body, and spirit allows us to walk in the Emperor's light. It is the duty of the faithful to unquestionably obey His authority, to purge the stars of the unfaithful, of heresy, of the inhuman. Today, we have the considerable honor of fulfilling our roles, our functions as the righteous weapons of the Emperor. To strike down the wickedness of Ork kind, a blasphemous, dark plight that poses no threat to the true servants of His will. In His name, with His glory and guiding light, we-the faithful soldiers forged in His fire in His name for His empire-will be victorious. Wholly, swiftly, completely, honorably victorious. That is our reward for our service." He paused, letting those words settle over his fellow soldiers. "Ten thousand years ago a considerable undertaking began, one that has yet to be completed. One day the Emperor will rise from his Golden Throne on Holy Terra and complete the grand quest in which we are now lucky participants. It will be a time of salvation and deliverance; we will become one with the Emperor, and all the evil will be expelled from our galaxy, locked in the Warp, then utterly and completely destroyed, purged from existence. It is then that the God-Emperor will sit in judgement of all Mankind, and those who lack faith in Him will be damned for all eternity, suffering a fate worse than what any Ork or damned servant of Chaos could possibly even conceive to threaten.
"That is the Imperial Truth. And only our adherence to it and our unshakable faith in the God-Emperor will allow those who today or in the coming times of hardship die in the glory of battle to join the great path to Salvation directly. You will join the Emperor and alongside him you will become fellow guardians of mankind, bulwarks against the evils of the Warp. Do not fear death. It is not permanent; it is, for the holy and righteous, transcendence to an even higher calling. But for now your duty is to stay at the shoulders of your compatriots and give these Orks one Hell of a beating."