I've just realised, I'm trying to do the guard from discworld, aren't I?
Fourth squad, it's my attempt at doing something similar. But I'm not Terry Pratchett.
Hell with it! Here's part two of the Ursula Creed story! It's my house, I do what I want!
Orlan Vertigan gets some official post.
'Fancy letter for you, Ory!'
She took it from, Jules. It was a formal letter, like the one she got when she was accepted in to the stormtrooper division. But that hadn't ended well. She opened it, and read it.
'The Lord Castellan of Cadia formally invites you to attend dinner this evening at the regimental head quarters.' She read outloud.
Sergeant Meridia spat out her recaff, nearly choking on the remainder.
'You okay there, sarge?' Asked Orlan, not a trace of sarcasm in her voice.
'Give me that!' She demanded.
Taking the letter, she read over it. Genuine, you don't fake something like that.
'Do you know how many officers would literally kill to be invited to dinner with the Castellan? Not just lieutenants and captains, I mean right up to the general staff!'
'Must have made an impression then!' Replied Orlan.
'This doesn't sound right, Ory. Why would Ursula Creed want to have dinner with you?'
'My sparkly personality?'
'What if she tries to take advantage? What if she, like, just sweeps everything off the table! Then grabs hold of you, and lays you down. Then kisses you, but maybe holds you, gentle like. And maybe caresses your face at the same time!'
The rest of the squad room was silent.
'Something you want to share with the rest of the squad, Jules?' Asked Meridia.
She looked away, not wanting to meet any ones eye.
'It's just, you know? Officers are a different breed! Remember the captain?'
'Let's not, shall we?' Said Meridia.
The captain was a sore point. Disgraced and arrested for fraternising with a xenos. But something had happened to him in his cell overnight. They didn't know what exactly, but they had heard that he now had less brain capacity then a servitor. And despite the mess in his cell, no-one had heard a thing.
'It's just dinner, nothing hinky is going to happen! Besides, Orlan isn't into women, right?' Said Meridia.
'I've been with a woman before.' Admitted Orlan.
'You've what?' Replied Julia.
'When I was a juve. Most of the boys I liked were intimidated by me! But the girls liked me.' She shrugged.
'What about you, sarge? Would you have done Orlan back then?' Asked Cullen.
'Oi! That's enough of that!' Snapped Meridia.
The uplifting primer didn't cover this, thought Meridia. How did you prepare someone for dinner with a lord commander?
'Have you got a parade uniform? You can't go dressed like that!'
'It's in the baggage, sarge.'
The baggage. The armies supplies, it would take at least a week to get anything out of there.
'Right. Here's what were going to do.'
Meridia went to her bunk, returning with a data key.
'This is my shower allocation. I'm allowed an extra five minutes. You are going to scrub up! Jules? Go with her, make sure she's in there the whole time!'
'Come on, sarge, I'm a grown woman!' Protested Orlan.
'Shut it! If you're going to dinner with the Castellan, you're going to look presentable!'
'Janice!' She shouted to the other end of the room. 'Get Orlan's spare uniform, see what you can patch up!'
Janice Octavian. Back in the hive, her family had worked in the cotton factories. The machines ran day and night, processing the raw materials for export off world. It was her family that had urged her to join up. The guard had to be a better life than the factory floor. She had a rare skill with a needle and thread. She could make uniforms last, long past when they should have fallen apart. It was a skill that also helped when patching up wounds.
'By tonight! Emperor's balls, sarge! I can't work miracles!' She replied.
'Just do what you can! Okay?'
'Cullen! Polish the boots. I mean so shiny you can see your face in 'em!'
'Why me?' She replied, a sullen look on her face.
'Teach you to be lippy!' Replied Meridia.
'Me? Oh, I'm going to see the commissar. We'll need a permission note to go up to the HQ.'
The barrack room went deathly quiet. Even Cullen stopped complaining. Everyone knew commissar Durant didn't like the sargent. The exact reason was a little sketchy, but the rumour was it involved the commissars wife.
'You going to be okay, sarge?' Asked Orlan, but there was no sarcasm this time.
'You owe me a drink, okay?' Replied Meridia.
Orlan nodded. She grabbed a towel and went to the shower block, with Julia following behind her.
The whole squad walked her to the regimental HQ. Everyone was nervous. They were all hive born. Each from a different level, all with different backgrounds. Formal dinners with senior staff just didn't happen. The closest they got was sharing lunch with the lieutenant to celebrate candlemass.
'It's just a dinner. Nothing to be worried about.' Meridia told her. But she didn't believe a word of it.
'Is it too late to do a runner, sarge?' Asked Orlan.
'Far, far too late, Ory. The lord Castellan is expecting you. Can't make any excuses now.'
'Remember the forks! Watch what she uses first.' Jules told her.
Meridia went up to the main doors, the sentries were cadian. Freshly pressed uniforms, rifles in pristine condition. But only a fool would take that for granted. They were veterans, they just had that look.
She presented the letter, explaining the invitation. One of them looked over Orlan. He didn't look impressed. But he allowed her entry.
'Good luck, Ory!' Shouted Julia.
The door closed behind her.
'Think she'll be ok, sarge?' Asked Julia.
'Orlan? She could wrestle an ork to the ground and beat it to death! But the Lord Castellan of Cadia?' She didn't finish. What could she say?
'The permission note is good for a few hours. There's a sargent's mess nearby, anyone want a drink?'
