335729-44456-103-Egida died in the fighting on Vernum Primus. Her bayonet and body alike were cleaved in twain by the choppa in the Ork's hand. 415633-983223-17-Zhatka could not respond. His fight remained before him - another alien, another enemy of the Imperium, who he stabbed and stabbed and stabbed. The Ork that killed 335729-44456-103-Egida was itself slain just before 415633-983223-17-Zhatka killed his own. How fitting.

And the fight continued.

[hr]

415633-983223-17-Zhatka stood to full attention. His regiment was depleted - few soldiers remained, of the Grenadiers only himself and one other. He did not mourn them. Those soldiers had died fittingly: sacrificing their lives for the Imperium, to help cleanse the stain of Krieg's failure just a little more, before their equipment was collected for redistribution later. They were brave - as brave as all Guardsmen ought to be.

To be forced to stand in line and accept trinkets marking his bravery, attached to his carapace armour where they would fit, was therefore galling. This was entirely a waste of time. Inefficient, unnecessary, save that other Imperial Guardsmen were lesser in their bravery, and saw such acts as somehow exceptional. They should not be. If they weren't, the Imperium would never have trouble defeating its foes. Triple Skull, to indicate large losses within a regiment. This wasn't needed. Other medals, indicating other achievements. Unnecessary. He would discard it all later.

At least they were not chastised by being made to live on this world, like other, lesser regiments. That would be a deathly insult. The General-Militant seemed the type to insult them that way, pathetically, spinelessly conciliatory as he was, but he had the sense not to. Instead, they would be redirected to the headquarters for the Departmento Munitorum - to fight again, and hopefully to die in a way that was suitable. 415633-983223-17-Zhatka doubted this battle would lead to a promotion to Watchmaster. He rather doubted he'd want it to.

[hr]

As soon as it was plausible to assume they weren't being monitored, 415633-983223-17-Zhatka removed the medals planted on his chest with great haste, placing them in the lowest recesses of his equipment pack with the intent of forgetting they existed. At least none had been pinned through his breastcoat; that would have rendered it functionally unusable. It was designed to seal out chemical weapons. It could not do so with holes puncturing its surface. At best, it would have required a renewed course of treatment as a result - difficult, when no suitable facilities to perform such treatments presented themselves. Under normal circumstances, it would be irrelevant.

These were not normal circumstances.

415633-983223-17-Zhatka's thoughts returned to 335729-44456-103-Egida as he acquired a ration pack to consume. Other Guardsmen did not come to him. This was fine. He'd likely have shared his ration pack with her if she were still alive. She would have shared hers in kind. She always enjoyed the chocolate dessert pills. He, however, found the plastic somewhat stuck to his- his train of thought cut off as he realised where it was leading. No. That was the wrong way of thinking. She died heroically. That was enough.

He ate his ration pack silently, pondering the beneficience of the God-Emperor, that He gave Krieg the opportunity to alleviate their sins by dying in his name at all. Truly, any being less divine would have insisted upon their destruction outright. 415633-983223-17-Zhatka could only hope the next battle he was sent to would offer more opportunities for atonement.