Hero of the Imperium!

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Z'Greel

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The Kaldanis system. A small system ravaged by war. It has remained in a constant struggle between the Empire of man, and Warlord Steeljaw's Waagh! for almost thirty years, containing too many valuable minerals for the Imperium to let the Orks have it, and too much fun for the Orks to leave.

Yet in the last six months, the favor has swayed slightly towards the Imperials. Reports have it that Lord Commisar Aragius Thorne, the widely known Hero of the Imperium had arrived, bringing along fresh reinforcements, and boosting morale across the system by his presence alone.

As of yet, however, he has only been spotted on Kaldanis IV, the most populated planet of the system, as well as the acting command center of the whole war. It used to be, and still is, what most would call a pearl in a pile of shit, being that it is temperate, rich, and generally a nice place to live.

It has many nice hotels and bars, some of which has been commandeered by the Imperial Guard as accommodation for their officers, and restricting access for all non-military personnel.

And in such a bar, Commisar Thorne himself is sitting, enjoying the local liquor at the moment.
 
A new world, a whole new system even! The thought of a new place for an assignment was exciting. Luna, a fairly young freelance fighter, had jusst arrived to the Kaldanis system. She had heard of some huge hero who had gone to Kaldanis IV.

"So there's a big hero here huh? Let's see......name....name....name...." she mumbled as she keyed through a database, "AHA! Thorne? huh. ok! guess I'll have to meet this hero. Gotta keep my signature book up-to-date!"

She laughed a bit to herself as she finally arrived. Once she had settled her ship and gone through her arranged channels she headed off to find this "hero". She sent any bitter thoughts to the back of her mind, this place was in constant war and for now she needed to do a bit of fighting to prove her prowess on the battlefield.
 
Thorne sat at the bar itself, a truly old, ornate, wooden thing, depicting some battle from decades ago most likely. The whole room itself had a rather rustic feel to it, with finely crafted furniture. Booths with high backs along the walls, making small, private alcoves, and more open tables in the middle of the room. At the wall opposite of the entrance, a band was playing some soft music on a small stage, giving the whole place a relaxed atmosphere mostly reserved for the officers.

The commisar himself fit in rather nicely. A man that had seen a lot, and looked the part. Some things he had even seen a bit too close, going by the scar going down along his side, almost making a sideburn for him. Yet other than that, his dark hair was nicely kept. Short, like most soldiers, and without any facial hair, not yet feeling the urge to look like the higher generals. His cap, black, red rimmed, with the Imperial Aquilla on the front, lay on the bar beside him, matching his greatcoat. Hanging from his red sash was a holstered bolt-pistol and a slightly worn chainsword, both of which had saved his life more times than he could count.

Currently, there was only a few officers there, most sitting a bit off from each other to simply relax alone for a moment, before they went back to the command center to keep working on their posts, or before being shipped out.
 
Luna noticed a slightly old-fashioned bar and shrugged.
"Reminds me of grandma's pictures," she snickered to herself.

As she approached the door she was stopped by some bouncers that were meant to keep civilians out. She looked up at them, looking almost like a small child due to her own physical attributes.

"Stop right there kid. 1) you need to be over 21 and 2) this bar's for officers only." one of the men growled as he towered over her.

"Try and stop me. I'm 25 years old and I'm a mercenary," she growled.

The man tried to pick her up. Without a word she grabbed his wrist and flipped him over her shoulder.
 
There was suddenly a surprised yell, and a thud coming from the entrance to the bra, making Thorne turn to see what in the Warp was going on. Seemingly, a civilian or something had decided to flip one of the bouncers. Well, that was the reason there were more than one of them, he thought, returning to nursing his drink.


"Hey! Just cause you're a mercenary doesn't mean you can do what'ca want!" The other bouncer growled, grabbing onto the girl from behind, attempting to make this as short as possible.
 
She started to laugh a bit and ducked under his arms, just barely getting out of his grasp. "Gotta be faster than that tubby." she grinned, "Generally I do what I want, when I want, and I feel like going in!"
She managed to get around behind the bouncer and jump on his back, her grip was strong, almost inhuman, on his shoulders. "So, will you let me in if I ask nicely?" she whispered.
 
The bouncer grunted in pain from the sudden grip, neither expecting the girl to be this quick, nor this strong. "Gah! Fine! This once!" He growled, futilely attempting to free himself, glad that it wasn't a whole lot of officers there now, at least. He just hoped none of them bothered to do something about it...

Thorne looked towards the door again, as it apparently wasn't over as quickly as he had expected. No, indeed, that girl seemed to know how to get past the guards. He turned slightly on his stool, smiling slightly at the show. Amusing to see such a small girl handle two big guys so quickly. He didn't recognize her uniform, however, which made him wonder where she'd learnt that from.
 
She laughed and dropped down from his back.

"Why thank you very much mister!" she said in a mocking tone.

She walked in, her skin pale but perfectly dry. She clearly hadn't even come close to breaking a sweat. She looked around clearly taking stock of the officers. She straightened her uniform and sighed. Uniforms weren't her thing but at least they let her have a bit of wiggle room.

"Hero....hero....hero..." she mumbled to herself, then she laid eyes on Thorne. She smirked a bit and then noticed the small stage. "This could be fun...."
 
Thorne kept looking at the girl for a moment, debating if he should do anything about her, as a commisar, or as himself, but decided it was best not to. He turned back to the bar, motioning for the bartender to give him a refill, before reaching over towards a bowl of local nuts.

There was a bit of murmuring about the room from the few officers sitting together about the newest entrant, yet none bothered to actually get up. The band slowed down, to take a short break between songs, yet quickly got ready for the next one.
 
She crossed her arms and looked at the commisar again. "he looks important." she mumbled.

She decided to throw caution to the wind and sat down two stools down from Thorne. The bartender ignored her, and refilled Thorne's drink. She cleared her throat quietly. The bartender stared at her. "I don't serve minors." he said flatly.

She sighed. "I'm no miner." she said pulling out an Id. She hid it from the view of all but the bartender. He looked at it, then at her.
"You don't look like that picture. How do I know it isn't fake?" he sneered.
"Look closely, why would I have THIS kind of Id if it were fake?" she replied in a cold tone.
He looked closer and seemed to almost recognize what it was.
"So you're one of THOSE. What do you want?" he said a bit spitefully.
"A glass of ice will do......anything cold."
 
Thorne couldn't help but to overhear the little conversation, a quality he had attained over the years, together with paranoia. He looked towards the girl, and asked loud enough for her to hear, but not to disturb anyone else.
"You could want that kind of ID, because not many think you'd be dumb enough to fake it, making it a even better fake? Though if you're going to have a fake ID, at least glue on a picture of yourself or something. Having the wrong ID at the wrong places could get you shot, you know."
 
Luna looked at him, tucking the Id away. "Actually SIR having this Id is reason enough to get shot. No HUMAN would be dumb enough to copy something with a TRACKING DEVICE embedded in it. So of course it doesn't look like me, can't have the locals finding out. Surely you know of what I speak of since you're in some sort of army." she growled as her eyes changed from the deep blue they were to the ice blue that the bartender had seen in the id photo.
 
"First of all, its commisar, not sir." Thorne corrected. "Secondly... Are you saying you are not a human? Because if so, that might be enough reason for me to shoot you right here and now." He said, his hand patting at he grip of his bolter, his face voided of humor. "So why don't you show me that ID, or at least tell me what exactly you're talking about... Most non-humans aren't accepted, as you probably know. Though my list is a bit different from the Imperium's own list though." He looked at her, trying to understand what she meant before she explained it.
 
Her eyes seemed to look like glacial ice as she stared at him. "You're right, non-humans aren't accepted." she said quietly.

Hesitantly she pulled out the id and showed him it, hiding it from anyone else's view. The id was a light blue in color and read the following:

Name: Luna Mariland Valentine
Age: 25
Eyes: blue
Hair: blue
Skin: pale
Height: 5'1
Weight: 100 lbs
Race: Ice Side
Master: Universal Army of Mercenaries
Status: Owned

The id showed a picture of a girl who had perfectly white skin, pale blue hair, and eyes just like she had now. She clearly didn't like showing it.
 
Thorne stared at the id for a few moments. Then for a few more. And then a few extra moments, just to be sure.

"What the frack is a Ice Side?" He asked, having never heard of such a thing. Obviously it was something accepted by the Imperium, by the sheer fact that she was here, sitting in a bar, instead of being a burning corpse, jettisoned into space.

"I've been a commisar for 40 years, traveling from one side of the Imperium to the other, but I've never heard of that!" He said, moving one seat closer to her. "So, I take it you're... A small humanoid race from some backwater planet, never a threat enough to be killed off, and never of enough benefit to be used in the Guard?" He asked, obviously not happy about the fact that she was something he had no idea what was.
 
She flinched as he spoke in a louder tone than she. She glared at him when he said that she was from a backwater planet. She seemed to be biting her tongue, having completely forgotten her original reason for looking around where officers were in the first place.

"What I am, SIR, is nothing important. I will have you know I came from Markatta, a majorly human world. As for my size....I'm just smaller than others of my kind.........for.....reasons that are of little importance to a human such as yourself," she whispered.

She was clearly trying to contain herself as the bartender set a glass of ice in front of her. She put one hand around the glass and the ice started to refreeze from where it had started melting naturally.
 
"Commissar." He corrected her again. "And I've never heard of Markatta either. Yet that doesn't explain what you are, why your kind is accepted into the Imperium, nor why I should simply execute you right here. Or rather, why I should slay you, as most Xenos aren't men to be executed, but enemies to be slain." He said, starting to smirk ever so slightly.
"And truly, you think that something about you might not be important to me, a human, because I am one? On a planet controlled by humans? One of the many in the largest empire the galaxy has ever seen?"
 
"My home happens to supply some of the most well-known heroes out there. The Royal School of Markatta," she said as she glared at him still, "And if you kill me you'll owe my master several MILLION. The reason why it isn't important is clearly you don't need to know. I.....I am...." she seemed to struggle and become agitated as she tried to speak the next sentence, "I am....of a race......that is in....inferior.....to humans.....my existence needs....no explanation...." she took several deep breaths as the ice in her glass seemed to fill the glass solidly and start to 'overflow'.
 
"I've never even heard of this royal school" He chuckled in return. "And no, I won't. As a commissar, I can do whatever I see as being in the best interest of the Imperium. And if I find a little Xeno witch..." He nodded to her overfreezing glass. "I have every right to execute her, if I find her to be working against, or even just being in the way of the Imperial Guard. Unless a court of other commissars finds my actions unacceptable, I will owe no one anything." He said, lifting his own glass, to take a sip of the dark liquid in it.
"I will agree that you are of a race inferior to humans though. As all Xenos are. But you seem to be a well behaved little Xeno, which probably means that you're not on the Inquisition's list. So I suppose I'll let you have a drink of ice then..." He said, turning forwards again, taking another sip of his drink.
 
The ice quickly encompassed her hand. "I'm no witch!" she hissed as her eyes filled with tears, "and you're clearly lacking in travel to other systems, galaxies and worlds!" She was trying her best to keep her voice down. "I was once human. And I'm here to help you miserable jerks."
 
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