The Aftermath
uhh i haven't written in a while and i've been wanting to get back into it, and since i'm getting into 40k and making an OC for it, i figured i'd make something about him. i get my lore from youtube shorts and shit ngl so there might be some inaccuracies in this PUHLEASE don't cut off my feet and leave me to wander the desert i'm just a guy
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In a small sector of a war-torn Imperial planet under siege, the violent, ear-piercing sounds of gunfire and screaming had been reduced to the whirring of Leman Russ tank engines and chatter amongst guardsmen. The Cadian 8th had taken the sector back from Chaos forces, and a platoon had set up an encampment for the night so they could rest before marching out to the battle that awaited them tomorrow.
Sitting on cracked concrete by a fire built from the wooden rubble of a nearby building, a medic was eating an MRE; white rice, with chunks of Grox meat. It wasn’t gourmet by any means, but it was quite good, all things considered– it was especially better than the corpse starch he had been fortunate enough to not be issued.
With the balaclava he wore pulled down under his chin, the medic dug into his MRE with a disposable spoon, shoveling it down his throat as if his life were on the line. The young man hadn’t eaten since breakfast early that morning, and after a long day of marching and fighting, who could blame him? For all he knew, this could be his last meal; a notion that he tried to shake, to no avail.
Finishing off what was left of his MRE, he tossed the pouch into the fire and leaned back, resting his gloved palms on the ground behind himself to support his back. He looked up at the eternal night sky that would have wrapped the planet in a forever darkness, were it not for the millions of candles and torches that lit the city they were fighting to protect. The countless stars threatened to send him into a deep slumber, as he would count each celestial body like a child counting sheep in their dreams.
After removing the cross-body bag that held his medical supplies and setting it onto the ground, he would use his thick leather backpack as a makeshift pillow, carefully lowering himself onto his back to avoid any discomfort with the armor he wore. Observing the stars that loomed above, the young medic closed his eyes. Exhausted as he was, it was a struggle to stay awake; fortunately though, he wouldn’t have to try for long.
“How’s it going, doctor?”
A dejected, yet optimistic voice called out to the medic, pushing a gasp out of his lips from the startlement. Turning his head to see who was talking to him, he saw another young male guardsman, presumably the same age as him. Though, he didn’t recognize him from his squad… Who was he?
Upon closer inspection, the medic realized that this was one of the men he had saved earlier that day. His memory was foggy at best, but if it served him right, he had nursed this fellow guardsman back to health from an 8.25mm to the right shoulder. Lucky for him, it had just barely missed an artery, though the medic neglected to tell him amidst all the chaos of the earlier battle. With a strained groan, the medic sat up and pulled his balaclava back over his nose, looking away from the guardsman and towards the still roaring fire whilst he opened his mouth to speak.
“Hey, there… Uhh, don't call me doctor. I’m just a medic. It’s different.”
The medic said, correcting the guardsman, who’s response was a grunt of acknowledgement as he moved to sit beside his savior.
The two of them sat together in awkward silence, staring into the bright flames that burned before them as they struggled to find something, *anything* to say that could break the tension and distract them from the stress that was slowly boring into their weakened minds, and broken spirits.
For the medic, it felt like he was going cross-eyed– he had become so fixated on his duties that it was difficult to think of anything outside of that, and thus, his mind ceased to think. The heat from the fire and the weight of his backpack stood as subtle reminders that he was there, and yet it felt like he could have been galaxies away, as if he were nothing more than a spectator in this world.
“Name’s Hector, by the way.”
The guardsman spoke with a jerk of his head, snapping the medic out of his trance-like state. He looked away from the night sky and down at Hector with a blank stare, processing what he said before giving a response, his eyes widening as if he had just been resuscitated.
“Oh, errgh– I’m Laevitas.”
Hector nodded, looking away from the fire and towards the man who had saved his life; Laevitas. Such a sophisticated name was fitting for a loyal soldier of the 8th, not to mention his (relatively) clean face and luminescent purple eyes. Surely he must have been a role model for his brothers-in-arms? It must be nice, Hector thought. Having people look up to you, depend on you, protect you…
Man, he really should have gone to medical school.
“What planet do you come from, Laevitas?”
Hector asked, leading Laevitas to look down in contemplation. The medic had nearly forgotten that he was on a whole other planet, despite the differing scenery and relative openness compared to where he grew up. The concept of anything other than the cramped underhives of his home planet was difficult to grasp, to say the least.
“I come from a hive city, back on Holy Terra. If it weren’t for my mother convincing me to go and join the Guard, well… I’d still be there, working in the infirmaries. I-I’m– I’m glad I left… I suppose.. What about you?”
Hector had never seen a hive city with his own eyes, but he had heard tales. Admittedly, he felt bad for Laevitas, though he felt it rude to say so. With a sigh of longing, Hector reared his head back and looked up into the night sky, seeing not an unfamiliar, empty void– no, he saw home in the shining stars above.
“Ahh, I’m just a boy from a small agri-world, you probably haven’t heard of it. As for why I left; I wanted to go places, meet people, maybe even find a pretty lady to settle down with. But… Can I be honest with you, Laevitas?”
Hector asked, to which the medic raised a curious brow, clasping his hands together and giving Hector his full attention. As much as he could, at least– his mind was still clouded. He couldn’t figure out exactly why, he just knew there was something wrong with him. Maybe he didn’t get enough sleep? Maybe the bright red glow of the beams from his lasgun had disoriented him? Maybe he… Wait! He had almost forgotten Hector was talking to him. Laevitas shook his head, trying to bring himself back into the moment right as Hector was opening his mouth to speak. Golden Throne, he had forgotten to even respond!
“YYea–”
“I just want to go home now. I miss my family.”
The two of them exchanged stares for a moment before Laevitas looked forward and lowered his head, gazing into the cracked concrete which he sat on. Laevitas wanted to say something, but he just couldn’t. Couldn’t find the courage, couldn’t find the right words, he just… couldn’t. He wanted to say he could relate, but… Could he? He had been on tour for such a short time, and yet it felt like it had been a century since he last heard his mother’s voice. He missed her, but life in the hive cities of Terra wasn’t much better than a life serving in the Guard. She wanted him to enlist so badly, to go somewhere– ANYWHERE besides Terra! She wanted this, and he knew that. For this he cursed her, yet he longed to see her again all the same.
Overwhelmed with emotions he couldn’t understand, Laevitas’ hands began to tremble whilst a sudden sense of dread washed over his soul. Right as his thoughts and feelings threatened to escape him once more, he was brought back to reality from a tap on the shoulder, looking to his left to see Hector with his hand outstretched for a shake.
“Hey, just… Watch my back so I can make it back in one piece, okay? I’ll keep an eye on you too, don’t worry.”
Hector said with a smile, still waiting for Laevitas to shake his hand. The medic’s eyes darted between Hector’s confident gaze and the hand he was holding out, unsure of what to do. He knew this was a horrible idea, but what was he supposed to do? Say no? His mind was yelling “no”, but his body was moving on its own accord, reaching for Hector’s hand and giving it a firm shake. Hector nodded and got up to leave, waving to Laevitas before bidding him farewell.
“I’m gonna go get some sleep. Take care, Laevitas.”
And with that, Hector walked away. As Laevitas watched his comrade leave, there was but one thought he had:
This was a promise he was sure to break
