It was a weary group that gathered in the library, knocking snow off combat boots onto the expensive rugs. A large fireplace dominated one of the walls and Spades and another trooper got it going by the simple expedient of piling up a few logs and hitting them with a gout of prometheum from a flamer. The troops were doing damage to the mansion in a hundred ways but the lady of the house seemed wealthy enough that it was doubtful she would raise too many complaints.  Sel found the side board and began pouring amasec into metal cups the troops used for cooking and shaving. Some roasted salt grox was procured from somewhere and heated over the fire, combined with some soft bread and a few baskets of fruit it made a welcome change from solyens viridians.


“Don’t be so stingy with the drinks Corporal!” Ruskins complained as he knocked back half of his in a single gulp. “There is enough here to float the regiment!”

“Yes there is, and wont it be funny if someone chills the lot of us while we sleep it off?” Sel remarked pointedly, recalling them to the murders of the two troopers on the way in. Predictably the comment dampened the mood. Ruskins shifted uncomfortably.

“You think there is a rebel here somewhere?” Ruskins asked at last. Sel shrugged her shoulders. 

“Maybe more than one, someone blew up the shield generator, maybe someone killed Klane and Merkaba to get back in,” Sel speculated, sipping her own amasec. It was excellent stuff, far superior to the cheap joyliq the troops normally made do with. 


“Naw…” Tandor interjected as he put his feet up on a firestone inlaid coffee table.

“ ‘s big place, couldsa come in without been seen, no ticks,” he continued. Tandor’s accent had a ganger cant to it, less effectively repressed than Sel’s own.


“Maybe,” Sel disagreed. Sometimes as a scout, knowing where the enemy was and punching your way through was safer than trying to avoid detection and not knowing for sure you had been unobserved.


“You think…” a door banged open and the whole squad were on their feet in a clatter of food plates and utensils. Lasguns swung up and clicked off safe in less time than it took them to consciously think about it.


“Hold fire!” Sel yelled as she realised that the newcomers were in the livery of Lady Arsenault’s house guard, their ridiculous breastplates gleaming in the firelight. There were three of them, two flunkies and the poncing officer Sel had met when she had arrived. They looked terrified to suddenly find themselves staring down so many guns, but that melted in an instant to be replaced by anger.

“What in the Emperor’s name do you think you are doing here!” the officer blustered, glaring in horror at the casual ruin the Guard were making of the fine library.


“T’sour billet spirehead,” Tandor snarled, his las gun leveled at the officers chest, “s’frak off while ya legs s’carry ya,” he advised.

“Now see here, I will not be spoken to by a common serf who…” 


“Shut your mouths!” Sel snapped, safing her weapon and lowering it. None of the household troops had drawn their weapons, and might not be able to draw them in fairness, given the elaborate knot work on their holsters. Maybe the officer could have drawn his sword, but all three of them would have been cut down in a heartbeat.


“If you have billeting problems I suggest you take it up with Lieutenant Caradwalden,” Sel replied, casually dumping the problem onto her superiors lap. The officers face whitened with fury but rather than reply he merely spun on his heels and stalked off. For a long moment there was silence, then Sel crossed to the door and closed it after the departing house guards.


“You think it might have been one of them what scragged Klane and Merkeba?” Mills asked, pouring himself a second amasec in spite of Sel’s caution to stay sober. 


“Maybe, some aristo power play? Some disaffected goon letting his rebel buddies in?” Sel speculated. She picked up the decanter of amasec and drank from the neck of the bottle. Frak it, what were they going to do? Demote her to driver and attach her to an infantry squad in the middle of no where?

“I’m going to find the Lieutenant, maybe he has a plan.”