"Forty-five... Forty-six... Forty-seven..." I counted to myself, squatting in my cabin. Five days had passed since the incident with Maritis, and everything was quiet on the ship, so I decided to do something useful. Which is what I did. The thing is that after the incident, I decided to sleep in my own cabin. However, while changing, I noticed in the mirror of the closet that Augustin was very concerned about his physical fitness: his pumped-up abs and biceps spoke exactly of this. So the next morning I decided to give my new body a little test. Doing fifty sit-ups and the same number of squats turned out to be unusually easy - before, both at school and at the university, I barely met the minimum standard for physical education, covering my grades with a good attitude towards teachers and doing assignments in the style of "fetch and bring". But now this was in the past and I was not going to lose this undoubtedly useful acquisition, for which I had to promise myself to do exercises every day. "Forty-eight... Forty-nine... Fifty..." I finally finished counting, after which I stood up and a second later sat on the bed, on which lay an open book. "The Imperial Guard Charter" - I managed to find this book under my pillow and now stubbornly studied it, having read it almost to the end. To some extent, it resembled the Russian army charter, which I once read out of curiosity, but the similarities were only in general points, such as the daily routine, description of the uniform and other little things. But there were many more differences. This book described the interactions of Guardsmen with Commissars, psykers of all types, Arbites, Tech-Priests, PDF soldiers, Ogryns, Imperial Navy officers, Space Marines, Sisters of Battle, Ecclesiarchy priests and Inquisitors, the rules for storing laser, bolter, stubber, plasma and other similar weapons, the interactions between comrades when regiments from different planets merge, the influence of planetary culture on the regiment, and so on and so forth. It also said that the official language is Imperial Gothic, that it is necessary to attend church services, and so on and so forth. Either way, this book was my salvation, because now I was not in danger of failing due to ignorance of the basics. However, there were still many problems. Yes, I managed to solve the problem with the ship's crew, but now I had a problem in the form of Maritis. After much thought, my memory finally told me that he was a junior commissar who was assigned to the 1st Battalion and was, in fact, my student. And I absolutely did not like this. Not only would I have to teach him, but he was also a rabid fanatic who I would have to constantly keep an eye on. Plus, I now had to figure out another important thing: the structure of the regiment. From the regulations, I understood that each regiment of the Imperial Guard is formed taking into account the characteristics of the planet and the soldiers.I was convinced of this almost immediately thanks to my knowledge of the Warhammer universe - a regiment from a death world has no more than a few thousand fighters, while a regiment from a hive world can have up to half a million. However, there was another problem: I did not know the specifics of Verlon, where my regiment was recruited, I did not know what parts it was divided into, I did not know the number of officers, I did not know whether we had technology, and I did not know how many "special" individuals we had, namely psykers, priests, tech-priests and the like. And I needed to know this. Remembering my desire to learn more about this world, I involuntarily turned my head to the table. On it lay the parts of my bolt pistol, which I had completely disassembled, relying on Augustine's memory, but now I could not put back together. An even bigger problem was that I had no engineering education whatsoever: I am a humanities person to the core, graduated from a medical university, and trying to understand the structure of a bolt pistol is an extremely difficult task for me. However, I had to learn it. A bolt pistol, like any other weapon, had to be cleaned, and this cannot be done without disassembling it into its components in principle. So I had to reassemble it and learn how to do it without hesitation, so that no one would suddenly have any suspicions - I was not going to force someone else to clean my weapon. - Mister Commissioner! - a voice suddenly sounded from behind the door, on which there was immediately a few knocks, which even made me flinch. - Mister Commissioner, are you here?! "Well, what again?" I thought to myself, although it was already clear that the matter was urgent. Without changing my clothes, I immediately went to the door and opened it by pressing the right button. Another guard in full uniform stood in front of me, his face heavily sweaty. - M-Mister Commissar... Eh... There... There... - the guard was breathing heavily, which is why he couldn't even put two words together normally. It was immediately obvious that he had come running to me, which meant one thing: something bad had happened. - Okay, calm down, - I said, which made the guard immediately straighten up, holding his breath. - What happened there? - There... There's a fight, Mister C-Commissar... - the guy spoke with difficulty, exhaling all the air from his lungs. - Your... Wait here, - I said, after which I returned to the cabin, grabbed my sword and went back out. - Lead the way. The guard, without thinking twice, immediately ran down the corridor, and I, having pressed the button to close the cabin, went after him. We had to run for about three minutes, after which we arrived, to my own surprise, in the gym. The huge number of weights, treadmills and other various exercise machines spoke of exactly this. However, it was not them that worried me, but several dozen guardsmen who were huddled in the center and constantly shouting words of encouragement. "Move aside!" I shouted, approaching the crowd almost point-blank. Several guardsmen who turned to me immediately tensed up,stepped aside and started grabbing the first comrades they came across, whose hearing was not so sensitive. Some of them waved him off and continued trying to watch the fight, standing on their tiptoes, so I had to push them aside myself, while going straight ahead like a tank.
At the sight of me, even the most active fans of this show instantly fell silent and let me pass, stepping on all the toes of those behind them, so in a few seconds I found myself in an improvised arena, where two guardsmen were beating each other up without a hint of jokes. Without wasting time, I took the sword out of its sheath and immediately activated it. The buzzing of adamantium teeth spread throughout the entire gym, after which everyone present froze, and the two fighters instantly unclasped and walked away to different sides of the arena. Complete silence reigned, broken only by the hum of the activated chainsword. - And now, gentlemen, - I said slowly and in as stern a tone as possible, - please explain to me... What the hell is going on here? " Both soldiers were silent and only looked at me with fear. I looked from one to the other, noting to myself that they were fighting more than seriously - their bloody faces said exactly that. I, on the contrary, looked, apparently, very comical. A white T-shirt, sweatpants, house slippers, a chain sword and a menacing look - you could paint a picture right now. "Then the jokes will start creeping in..." I thought, but I immediately drove these thoughts away. Now I needed to sort out these brawlers, and not think about jokes. - Well? So we're going to play the silent game? - I asked again, but there was no answer. - Okay... You! - I said, pointing the already disabled chain sword at the first guard I came across, who was standing right in front of me. - W-who? Me? - he said cautiously, pointing his finger at himself. - Yes, you. What happened here? - I asked sternly. — W-well, it's... A-almost... Tardold and Inkark... They started talking, this and that... Then they started arguing about who was more important for Verlon: the miners or the farmers... Well, and in the end they started fighting... The situation was quite clear. One guard was, as they say, from the city, the other from the village, so they quarreled over this. Fortunately, this conflict was solvable, the main thing was to find the right words. — So, I understand, — I said out loud, relaxingly lowering the sword. The situation was not so critical that I should wave it around and make the guardsmen nervous once again. — Great Emperor, I didn't think that I would have to explain elementary things to adults who, no more and no less, became soldiers of the imperial guard. So, who here is, so to speak, a miner? — I... — said the guard with short-cropped chestnut hair, standing to my left. — Who am I? — I asked again, to find out the name of the person who had answered. — My apologies. Private Tardold Vinron, Mr. Commissar, — the guy immediately corrected himself, standing at attention. — Tell me, Tardold. What would have happened if there had been no farmers on Verlon? What would the miners have eaten then? — Well... Food that would have been brought from other worlds... — Tardold answered almost immediately. Apparently, this was his argument in the dispute with the farmer. — Yeah, and if the convoy with food disappears in the warp,What then? Mass starvation? You are kind, however... And what did you extract in the mines? - Metal ores, mainly... - Here. And now tell me, Inkark, what are weapons made of? - From... - the face of the brunette, who was slightly broader in the shoulders than Thardold, suddenly showed understanding of the question. He understood why I was asking this, he knew the answer to my question and now did not really want to answer. But he could not help but answer me. - From metals, Mr. Commissar. - Exactly! And with these very weapons, the Imperial Guard protects the worlds of the Imperium and all its citizens, including farmers and miners, - both guardsmen already understood that I was giving them a boring lecture about how stupid they were for not thinking about this. But I had no other choice. I had to show that I was adequate, and at the same time I had to nip such conflicts in the bud. The last thing I needed was dividing the regiment along some line - that always ends badly. — So don't think that one profession is more important than another, and especially don't beat each other's faces over such a trifle. You are all equal before the Emperor. Is everything clear to you? — Yes… — both guardsmen said simultaneously, looking somewhat guilty. Their mood was clearly at its lowest point, after all, it's not every day that the commissar gives moralizing lectures, and in front of so many colleagues. — Well, that's great. And since you have so much strength that you even solve problems with your fists, then at the end of the day the two of you will wash this hall until it shines. Is the assignment clear? — I asked, looking at one of them, then the other. — Yes… — the fighters said in an even more dejected voice. They still had to be punished, after all, they had started a fight. — That's good. Everyone, gentlemen, disperse! — I shouted to everyone who had been standing around us and listening to our conversation the whole time. The guardsmen quickly began to disperse in different directions around the hall, picking up weights, using exercise machines, or simply chatting about life. I was quietly rejoicing at my success. It was precisely in such small steps that one had to build one's reputation, showing time and again that I was a completely adequate commissar who was ready to solve the guardsmen's problems. Smiling to myself, I nevertheless decided to head to my cabin - I had to assemble my bolt pistol as quickly as possible. Another week on the ship passed for me in intense work - during this time I read the regulations from cover to cover, memorized the most important points, learned how to assemble and disassemble the bolt pistol, and also began training with a chainsword. Merzelius, apparently, was a good fencer - his memory constantly prompted the correct movements, techniques, and combinations, and good physical shape helped greatly in this matter. However, one problem kept coming up: as soon as I started performing the technique, my hand automatically activated the sword - apparently, this was the only way Augustine trained.Now tell me, Inkark, what are weapons made of? - From... - the face of the brunette, who was slightly broader in the shoulders than Thardold, suddenly understood the question. He understood why I was asking this, he knew the answer to my question and now he did not really want to answer. But he could not help but answer me. - From metals, Mr. Commissar. - Exactly! And with these very weapons, the Imperial Guard protects the worlds of the Imperium and all its citizens, including farmers and miners, - both guardsmen already understood that I was giving them a boring lecture about how stupid they were for not thinking about this. But I had no other choice. I had to show that I was adequate, and at the same time I had to nip such conflicts in the bud. The last thing I needed was dividing the regiment along some lines - that always ends badly. - So you shouldn't think that one profession is more important than another, and especially don't beat each other's faces over such a trifle. You are all equal before the Emperor. Is everything clear to you? - Yes... - both guardsmen said simultaneously, looking somewhat guilty. Their mood was clearly at its lowest point, after all, it is not every day that the commissar gives moralizing, and in front of so many colleagues. - Well, great. And since you have so much strength that you even solve problems with your fists, then at the end of the day the two of you will wash this hall until it shines. Is the assignment clear? - I asked, looking in turn at one, then the other. - Yes... - the fighters said in an even more dejected voice. They still had to be punished, after all, they had started a fight. - That's good. All right, gentlemen, disperse! - I shouted to everyone who was standing around us and listening to our conversation the whole time. The guardsmen began to quickly disperse in different directions around the hall, picking up weights, occupying exercise machines or simply chatting about life. I, on the other hand, was quietly rejoicing at my success. It was necessary to build a reputation for myself in such small steps, time after time showing that I was a completely adequate commissar who was ready to solve the problems of the guards. Smiling to myself, I nevertheless decided to head to my cabin - I needed to assemble my bolt pistol as quickly as possible. Another week on the ship passed for me in intense work - during this time I read the regulations from cover to cover, memorized the most important points, learned how to assemble and disassemble the bolt pistol, and also began training with a chainsword. Merzelius, apparently, was a good fencer - his memory constantly prompted the correct movements, techniques and combinations, and good physical shape helped greatly in this matter. However, one problem constantly arose: as soon as I began to perform a technique, my hand automatically activated the sword - apparently, Augustin trained only like this.Now tell me, Inkark, what are weapons made of? - From... - the face of the brunette, who was slightly broader in the shoulders than Thardold, suddenly understood the question. He understood why I was asking this, he knew the answer to my question and now he did not really want to answer. But he could not help but answer me. - From metals, Mr. Commissar. - Exactly! And with these very weapons, the Imperial Guard protects the worlds of the Imperium and all its citizens, including farmers and miners, - both guardsmen already understood that I was giving them a boring lecture about how stupid they were for not thinking about this. But I had no other choice. I had to show that I was adequate, and at the same time I had to nip such conflicts in the bud. The last thing I needed was dividing the regiment along some lines - that always ends badly. - So you shouldn't think that one profession is more important than another, and especially don't beat each other's faces over such a trifle. You are all equal before the Emperor. Is everything clear to you? - Yes... - both guardsmen said simultaneously, looking somewhat guilty. Their mood was clearly at its lowest point, after all, it is not every day that the commissar gives moralizing, and in front of so many colleagues. - Well, great. And since you have so much strength that you even solve problems with your fists, then at the end of the day the two of you will wash this hall until it shines. Is the assignment clear? - I asked, looking in turn at one, then the other. - Yes... - the fighters said in an even more dejected voice. They still had to be punished, after all, they had started a fight. - That's good. All right, gentlemen, disperse! - I shouted to everyone who was standing around us and listening to our conversation the whole time. The guardsmen began to quickly disperse in different directions around the hall, picking up weights, occupying exercise machines or simply chatting about life. I, on the other hand, was quietly rejoicing at my success. It was necessary to build a reputation for myself in such small steps, time after time showing that I was a completely adequate commissar who was ready to solve the problems of the guards. Smiling to myself, I nevertheless decided to head to my cabin - I needed to assemble my bolt pistol as quickly as possible. Another week on the ship passed for me in intense work - during this time I read the regulations from cover to cover, memorized the most important points, learned how to assemble and disassemble the bolt pistol, and also began training with a chainsword. Merzelius, apparently, was a good fencer - his memory constantly prompted the correct movements, techniques and combinations, and good physical shape helped greatly in this matter. However, one problem constantly arose: as soon as I began to perform a technique, my hand automatically activated the sword - apparently, Augustin trained only like this.— Of metals, Mr. Commissar. — Exactly! And with these very weapons the Imperial Guard protects the worlds of the Imperium and all its citizens, including farmers and miners. — Both Guardsmen already understood that I was giving them a boring lecture about how stupid they were for not thinking about it. But I had no other choice. I had to show that I was adequate, and at the same time I had to nip such conflicts in the bud. The last thing I needed was dividing the regiment according to some criterion — that always ends badly. — So don't think that one profession is more important than another, and especially don't beat each other's faces in the face over such a trifle. You are all equal before the Emperor. Is everything clear to you? — Yes… — both Guardsmen said simultaneously, looking somewhat guilty. Their mood was clearly lower than the baseboard now; after all, it's not every day that the Commissar gives moralizing lessons, and in front of many of his fellow soldiers, at that. — Well, that's great. And since you have so much strength that you even solve problems with your fists, then at the end of the day the two of you will wash this hall until it shines. Is the task clear? - I asked, looking in turn at one, then the other. - Yes ... - the fighters said in an even more dejected voice. They still had to be punished, after all, they started a fight. - That's good. Everyone, gentlemen, disperse! - I shouted to everyone who was standing around us and listening to our conversation all this time. The guardsmen began to quickly disperse in different directions of the hall, pick up weights, occupy exercise machines or just chat about life. I was quietly happy with my success. It was necessary to build a reputation for myself in exactly these small steps, time after time showing that I was a completely adequate commissar who was ready to solve the problems of the guards. Smiling to myself, I still decided to head to my cabin - I needed to assemble my bolt pistol as quickly as possible. Another week on the ship passed for me in intense work - during this time I read the regulations from cover to cover, memorized the most important points, learned to assemble and disassemble the bolt pistol, and also began training with a chainsword. Merzelius, apparently, was a good fencer - his memory constantly prompted the correct movements, techniques and combinations, and good physical shape helped in this matter. However, one problem constantly arose: as soon as I began to perform a technique, my hand automatically activated the sword - apparently, Augustin trained only like this.— Of metals, Mr. Commissar. — Exactly! And with these very weapons the Imperial Guard protects the worlds of the Imperium and all its citizens, including farmers and miners. — Both Guardsmen already understood that I was giving them a boring lecture about how stupid they were for not thinking about it. But I had no other choice. I had to show that I was adequate, and at the same time I had to nip such conflicts in the bud. The last thing I needed was dividing the regiment according to some criterion — that always ends badly. — So don't think that one profession is more important than another, and especially don't beat each other's faces in the face over such a trifle. You are all equal before the Emperor. Is everything clear to you? — Yes… — both Guardsmen said simultaneously, looking somewhat guilty. Their mood was clearly lower than the baseboard now; after all, it's not every day that the Commissar gives moralizing lessons, and in front of many of his fellow soldiers, at that. — Well, that's great. And since you have so much strength that you even solve problems with your fists, then at the end of the day the two of you will wash this hall until it shines. Is the task clear? - I asked, looking in turn at one, then the other. - Yes ... - the fighters said in an even more dejected voice. They still had to be punished, after all, they started a fight. - That's good. Everyone, gentlemen, disperse! - I shouted to everyone who was standing around us and listening to our conversation all this time. The guardsmen began to quickly disperse in different directions of the hall, pick up weights, occupy exercise machines or just chat about life. I was quietly happy with my success. It was necessary to build a reputation for myself in exactly these small steps, time after time showing that I was a completely adequate commissar who was ready to solve the problems of the guards. Smiling to myself, I still decided to head to my cabin - I needed to assemble my bolt pistol as quickly as possible. Another week on the ship passed for me in intense work - during this time I read the regulations from cover to cover, memorized the most important points, learned to assemble and disassemble the bolt pistol, and also began training with a chainsword. Merzelius, apparently, was a good fencer - his memory constantly prompted the correct movements, techniques and combinations, and good physical shape helped in this matter. However, one problem constantly arose: as soon as I began to perform a technique, my hand automatically activated the sword - apparently, Augustin trained only like this.and even more so, there is no need to beat each other's faces over such a trifle. You are all equal before the Emperor. Is everything clear to you? - Yes... - both guardsmen said simultaneously, looking somewhat guilty. Their mood was clearly at its lowest point right now; after all, it is not every day that the commissar gives moral lectures, and in front of so many colleagues. - Well, that's great. And since you have so much strength that you even solve problems with your fists, then at the end of the day the two of you will wash this hall until it shines. Is the assignment clear? - I asked, looking in turn at one, then the other. - Yes... - the fighters said in an even more dejected voice. They still had to be punished, after all, they had started a fight. - That's good. Everyone, gentlemen, disperse! - I shouted to everyone who was standing around us and listening to our conversation the whole time. The guardsmen quickly began to disperse in different directions around the hall, picking up weights, using exercise machines, or simply chatting about life. I was quietly rejoicing at my success. It was precisely in such small steps that one had to build one's reputation, showing time and again that I was a completely adequate commissar who was ready to solve the guardsmen's problems. Smiling to myself, I nevertheless decided to head to my cabin - I had to assemble my bolt pistol as quickly as possible. Another week on the ship passed for me in intense work - during this time I read the regulations from cover to cover, memorized the most important points, learned how to assemble and disassemble the bolt pistol, and also began training with a chainsword. Merzelius, apparently, was a good fencer - his memory constantly prompted the correct movements, techniques, and combinations, and good physical shape helped greatly in this matter. However, one problem kept coming up: as soon as I started performing the technique, my hand automatically activated the sword - apparently, this was the only way Augustine trained.and even more so, there is no need to beat each other's faces over such a trifle. You are all equal before the Emperor. Is everything clear to you? - Yes... - both guardsmen said simultaneously, looking somewhat guilty. Their mood was clearly at its lowest point right now; after all, it is not every day that the commissar gives moral lectures, and in front of so many colleagues. - Well, that's great. And since you have so much strength that you even solve problems with your fists, then at the end of the day the two of you will wash this hall until it shines. Is the assignment clear? - I asked, looking in turn at one, then the other. - Yes... - the fighters said in an even more dejected voice. They still had to be punished, after all, they had started a fight. - That's good. Everyone, gentlemen, disperse! - I shouted to everyone who was standing around us and listening to our conversation the whole time. The guardsmen quickly began to disperse in different directions around the hall, picking up weights, using exercise machines, or simply chatting about life. I was quietly rejoicing at my success. It was precisely in such small steps that one had to build one's reputation, showing time and again that I was a completely adequate commissar who was ready to solve the guardsmen's problems. Smiling to myself, I nevertheless decided to head to my cabin - I had to assemble my bolt pistol as quickly as possible. Another week on the ship passed for me in intense work - during this time I read the regulations from cover to cover, memorized the most important points, learned how to assemble and disassemble the bolt pistol, and also began training with a chainsword. Merzelius, apparently, was a good fencer - his memory constantly prompted the correct movements, techniques, and combinations, and good physical shape helped greatly in this matter. However, one problem kept coming up: as soon as I started performing the technique, my hand automatically activated the sword - apparently, this was the only way Augustine trained.Smiling to myself, I decided to head to my cabin - I needed to assemble my bolt pistol as quickly as possible. Another week on the ship passed for me in intense work - during this time I read the regulations from cover to cover, memorized the most important points, learned how to assemble and disassemble the bolt pistol, and also began training with a chainsword. Merzelius, apparently, was a good swordsman - his memory constantly prompted the correct movements, techniques and combinations, and good physical shape helped greatly in this matter. However, one problem constantly arose: as soon as I began to perform a technique, my hand automatically activated the sword - apparently, Augustin trained only like this.Smiling to myself, I decided to head to my cabin - I needed to assemble my bolt pistol as quickly as possible. Another week on the ship passed for me in intense work - during this time I read the regulations from cover to cover, memorized the most important points, learned how to assemble and disassemble the bolt pistol, and also began training with a chainsword. Merzelius, apparently, was a good swordsman - his memory constantly prompted the correct movements, techniques and combinations, and good physical shape helped greatly in this matter. However, one problem constantly arose: as soon as I began to perform a technique, my hand automatically activated the sword - apparently, Augustin trained only like this.
At first I tried to fight it, but then a new problem arose: I regained conscious control over my body and because of this I basically could not repeat any movement or technique with a sword. Therefore, although with caution, I still stopped paying attention to it, and things went. Of course, I understood perfectly well that rushing into hand-to-hand combat with the orks was pure suicide. The best thing would be to use Tau tactics - fight at a distance. And for this we would need enormous firepower and total superiority of artillery. And we hardly have artillery: my card says that we are an infantry regiment, not an artillery one, which already led to sad thoughts. The only hope was in the PDF: if it is more or less normal on the planet, then together with them we can deal with the orks with the help of fire superiority. "I hope it will work out ..." - I thought to myself. After all, there was little hope. The SPO varies from world to world, and for some reason I had a feeling that they weren't the best on this Akitos Prime, since they had to call in the guard, which was us.
"Attention! " a loud voice suddenly sounded from the speaker on the ceiling of my cabin. "Preparations for warp transition are beginning. All crew, report to the regular schedule.
"Finally…" I said out loud. The generator had been repaired after all, and soon we would be heading to Akitos Prime. Yes, we still had three weeks to fly through the warp, but it was better than standing still somewhere in the distant reaches of space. After thinking for a while, I decided to head to the regiment's location – I needed to show my concern for the soldiers once again, and being with them during the warp jump showed this very concern in the best possible way. Having put on my uniform and taken my weapon, I left the cabin into the corridor. Dozens of crew members were already running along it, heading to their places. I had to try very hard not to bump into anyone, since many were in such a hurry that they didn't even notice me. "Mr. Commissar," the colonel's voice suddenly called out to me, after which I stopped and turned to him. "Did you also decide to be with the soldiers during the warp jump?" "Yes, Colonel." "They need support," I replied, continuing to walk with the colonel. "I completely agree with you. They only had one jump, and that was their first. And considering how many tales they've heard about the warp, they need to be kept an eye on." "Tales?" I asked, showing interest. "Exactly. One private learned from someone, back on Verlon, that when making a warp jump, you need to put on a hat made of aluminum foil and pray, saying that this makes the Geller field stronger. The tech priest he tried to get the foil from was very surprised by this statement. "He even went to the tech priest?" I asked with a smile. "Yeah, I almost laughed out loud myself when that same tech priest came to me and convincingly asked me to conduct preventive talks with the soldiers. In general, as I understand it, we have a lot of such "smart guys" here who listen to such nonsense and even advise others to do the same. "Well, I'll have a separate talk with those 'smart guys,'" I promised, although I wasn't sure that I would be looking for such individuals to have a heart-to-heart talk with. "You're the one who can do it. Everyone's already talking about you. You gave Tardold and Inkark a good lecture." "The situation is quite common, the main thing is to react to it quickly," I answered, glad that good rumors were already starting to circulate about me. "The last thing we need is different factions within the regiment that will sharpen their grudges against each other." "I completely agree with you, Mr. Commissar. We'll try to prevent that," Sherkin answered me. "By the way, Mr. Commissar, I wanted to tell you. Captain Kreidel invited us to dinner, 'on the occasion of the successful repair of the generator and the continuation of the flight.'" "With pleasure," I answered. After all, it was necessary to maintain good relations with the ship's captain, and the opportunity to eat something special, considering the captain's love of food, was very attractive. - What time and where? - At seven in the evening. In the banquet hall. We haven't been there yet, so an escort will come for you, the captain gave the orders, - the colonel explained. This information was very pleasing:I won't have to rummage around the ship looking for this hall. — To be honest, I'm still surprised by the size of this ship. They even made a banquet hall. — Everyone wants to live beautifully, especially when you're surrounded by cosmic emptiness, — I noted, deciding to keep the conversation going. — You said that right, — Sherkin answered, smiling. The conversation would probably have continued, but the next moment we entered the barracks, which, as always, greeted us with the hum of hundreds of voices. The guards, noticing us, began to quiet down, and we calmly walked past them. Approaching the fork, the colonel stopped and I followed his example. — Okay, guys, let's all go to your places! You already know what to do: sit on your bunks, don't run along the corridors and pray to the God-Emperor that everything will be fine! — And without tinfoil hats… — I said quietly, which made several of the nearest guardsmen, along with Sherkin, laugh. The joke was a success and it was nice.
- Attention! - the captain's booming voice rang out again. - Ready for warp jump in ten minutes. I repeat, ready for warp jump in ten minutes.
- We'll be flying soon... - the colonel said. - Well, Mr. Commissar, I'll go check on the guys. - Come on, Colonel, I'll stay here, - I answered, after which Sherkin quickly disappeared into the corridor. I went up to one of the beds, deciding to sit down on it. - Can I sit down? - I asked the guardsman who was lying down and reading a prayer book.
"Yes, of course," the guy answered, although it was hard to imagine him refusing me. Sitting down at the edge of the bunk, I began to wait for the warp jump, which was only a few minutes away. And almost immediately, various thoughts began to creep into my head. The awareness of what was happening around me could not settle completely in my head. To be honest, I increasingly forgot about where I was. The whole atmosphere seemed ordinary, not surprising. Although, damn it, I was now on a spaceship that was in outer space God knows where in the Milky Way, several thousand light years from Earth, which, moreover, is now a mega-city that has grown across the entire planet! As soon as I began to think about it so hard, my head was spinning: it was hardly possible to believe it. However, after two weeks of living here, I was convinced that all this is the cruel truth. I forgot about it, most likely, because of Merzelius. More precisely, that part of him that was still inside me. For him, all this was normal, and therefore for me, too. And all this simply twisted my brain into a tube.
- Attention! Ready for warp jump in five minutes! I repeat, ready for warp jump in five minutes!
As soon as the captain said this, strange sounds began to rush to me. They resembled some kind of metal hitting metal, echoing throughout the ship. "Protective bulkheads," flashed through my head, after which a guess came quickly. These bulkheads were used to cover the portholes so that no one would accidentally look into the warp - this led, if not to death, then to complete madness. Suddenly, a strange muttering reached my ears. Looking to the left, I noticed a man in a simple black robe, who was holding a book in his hands and reading something from it. "John Bergen, regimental chaplain..." my memory prompted me again. It seemed that this John did not notice anyone around him and simply read the prayers, although all the other guardsmen immediately crossed themselves with the aquila. Therefore, when he approached me, I followed the example of the others. But, to my surprise, the chaplain stopped right next to the guardsman who was lying opposite me. "May I excuse you?" he asked in a hoarse voice. "Of course, your reverence," the guardsman answered, after which the man sat opposite me and continued reading in a whisper, and I began to examine him more closely. He had a bald head, a thick red beard and moustache, brown eyes, a broad face with rounded features and many wrinkles.
"Attention! " I heard the captain's voice again. "Ready for warp jump - one minute! I repeat, ready for warp jump - one minute!"
After these words, the guardsmen began to pray much more fervently, and John began to mutter much louder, thanks to which I began to distinguish such words as "Sea of Souls", "Astronomicon" and "Navigator". Most likely, this was a separate prayer for the warp transition. But now I was worried about something else: my inaction could attract too much attention. After all, a non-praying commissar in the presence of the regimental chaplain looks at least strange. So I unbuttoned my jacket, took a small prayer book from my inside pocket and began to leaf through it randomly, so as not to arouse suspicion, after which I stopped at page sixteen, where in black Gothic letters was written: "Prayer for protection". And after some thought, I decided to read this prayer in a whisper. Yes, in my past life I was an atheist, and the Emperor would hardly have heard my prayers, but it was still worth showing everyone that I also believed in him - that way there was less chance of arousing any suspicions.
"O Emperor of Mankind,
send down your benevolent glance,
and protect your servant,
guarding him from the wiles of enemies.
O Emperor of Mankind,
illuminate with your light,
that it may dispel the darkness
that surrounds us all.
O Emperor of Mankind,
I trust in you,
I entrust my soul to you,
protect it from evil."
- Attention! - the captain's voice rang out, although this time I clearly heard that he was now very worried. - Warp jump in ten... nine... eight... seven... six... five... four... three... two... one... Jump!
A small jolt marked our entry into the Immaterium. For about a minute, complete silence reigned in the barracks. Everyone was waiting to see if the Geller field would hold out or if it would be broken and we would die almost immediately. I could not know all this, but my memory stubbornly told me exactly this. - Well, it seems to have worked out... - I heard the voice of one of the guards. - Yes, - I decided to support him, although the excitement had already managed to pass on to me. - It worked out. A few more minutes later, the atmosphere began to liven up. John stood up and calmly walked off somewhere, the guards began to talk more and more animatedly, and I decided to go to my cabin. It was time to get ready for dinner with the ship's captain.