When he'd woken up that morning, Vespin knew he was going to have a bad day. He knew this, because his left ankle was acting up. Not the actual ankle, of course, that was off on some moon in a system he'd likely never see again. No, it was a phantom pain, that hurt just enough to put him in a foul mood on the days it decided to act up. Which seemed appropriate, given it only ever seemed to hurt on days that would put him in a foul mood anyway.
As the morning began, though-morning being a relative term-he couldn't quite tell what it was that seemed like it should go wrong. His group had been picked up for deliver to another system some time ago, and were on their way to the drop off location, along with a group of penal legion. A friend among the navigator's retinue, a very well payed one, had informed him that they would be exiting the warp for a short time. While they hadn't said why, it wasn't all that important. Sometimes ships needed to exit warp space for a short time, for any number of reasons.
Morning beyond that was business as usual. A commissar had been invited to take breakfast with a company commander, and the commander had payed Vespin to prepare the meal. Doing as best he could with what little he had, he managed to whip up two lobster-tail omelettes dressed with chives and shredded cheese. Or, more specifically, something that very much tasted exactly like how someone who'd never had the real thing would likely imagine it tasted. He knew, because he had tasted the real thing, and what he made tasted like what he'd expected it to. Of course, he had had a rather hefty sample for himself to make sure of that, along with a stiff cup of 'coffee' to go along with it.
Once that was out of the way, he'd begun to make his rounds. He had goods that he needed to sell, and they weren't going to do it themselves. Having planned to make his way around the ship, stopping by the places he was known to spend his time at very specific times, the usual routine had him near the prison area right about the time everything went ass-up. While he'd been down there to open negotiations with some of the prisoners to see if they were interested in trading off what little money they technically had left to their name for something useful, a call for hands to battle stations had gone out.
It wasn't until he managed to make it back to his barracks that he found out what had them leaving warp space. Apparently, someone had put out a call for aid in a battle against Eldar. While definitely not good, from the sounds of things the Eldar weren't likely to win, and their ship was only there to provide support. No, the real issue was that some uppity commissar had come along and taken his men to go hunting for psykers.
Having made the decision to go in light, Vespin managed to catch up to the group of his fellow ratlings. It had taken a lot of leg work, and a very helpful schematic of the ship, but he'd managed to pull it off. Unfortunately, the sound of gunshots told him that they had found something. Only carrying his shotgun, a dozen rounds for it, his armor, knife, and nothing more, Vespin suddenly felt somewhat naked. He had his usual tools squirreled away in his leg as well, of course, but none of that was going to help take down an Eldar.
Making a decision, he held back in stead of stepping up to join the group. When he heard that the prisoners had escaped, and were making their way to the armory, he knew his men would be walking into a killing field unless someone got there first. Taking out his schematic, he looked over it quickly, long enough to mark his route in his mind before heading out. It would have him squeezing through some tight spaces, but if he managed to judge it right, and it hadn't been too long since the prisoners had left, he should make it there a couple minutes before they do. What he was going to do in two minutes, he had no idea, but that didn't matter until he had them to work with, so he decided that was a bridge to cross if he got to it.
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