Work Text:
Twelfth day, second local month, 942.M41
Finally some action! They say a bunch of xenos crash landed a ship in the great plains south of the city of Hale Harvest, and the PDF has been dispatched to destroy the fiends! Greenskins by the sound of it. LT says local units have already engaged them, but we’re being called in to back them up! The only thing that would make this better is if I got to carry the squad plasma gun instead of Trooper Baron. If the Emperor is with me, I’ll still get to kill a xeno and take some trophies!
Fifteenth day, second local month, 942.M41
Emperor preserve me it’s cold. A big cold snap hit just as we deployed to the field. And spending all day in the flak armor is starting to ache. It’s too small and the straps dig in while we’re marching. Just as well most of the xenos are already wiped out and we’re just sweeping up the remains. I met some troopers from a unit that’s been in the fighting again. They say the xenos are big and mean and terrifying. I say they’re a bunch of cowards. I bet I’ll knife one. The Emperor protects.
Eighteenth day, second local month, 942.M41
The damn cold is going to kill me before any xeno does. LT says there are more coming from space, but with how fast we cleaned up the first batch I’m not worried. Maybe I’ll even get to fight one. As the Emperor wills.
Nineteenth day, second local month, 942.M41
I got one! Emperor be praised I got one! We were patrolling around the south side of the enemy’s landing site to make sure none of them fled from the main advance, and a whole swarm of them came our way! Those other troopers are cowards, they were a bunch of ugly greenskins, shorter than me and all gangly. We hid in cover for them to get close and then opened fire all at once! Sergeant Greenwich even smashed one with the butt of his lasgun! And I shot one right in the face as it charged us with a big knife. Then there was one bigger than the rest leading them, probably a warboss! But Baron got him with the plasma gun in one shot! There was barely anything left! I got to keep a knife. It was totally worth the cold and having to sleep on the ground. The Emperor provides.
Twenty-fifth day, second local month, 942.M41
Hale Harvest is gone. The xenos crashed a meteor into it. Now they’re flooding out of the crash site. They say there are millions of them. Command is all frakked. LT says he heard reinforcements were coming though. God-Emperor preserve us.
Thirtieth day, second local month, 942.M41
Baron is dead. Lucky shot blew his head clean off. I am promoted to squad weapon specialist. It still has his blood on it.
Third day, third local month, 942.M41
Still alive somehow. Reinforcements are showing up, more PDF, no Guard yet. Command re-established. LT says the plan is to create a cordon around Hale Harvest to keep the orks contained until the real firepower arrives. The planetary defense fleet shelled a bunch of the greenskins from orbit, but now more ork ships are arriving. We just have to hold out for reinforcements. We’re digging trenches. My hands hurt. My legs hurt. Everything hurts. The Emperor protects.
Twelfth day, third local month, 942.M41
The greenskins are endless. We’ve lost three more from our squad, others have had it worse. We’re supposed to rotate with fresh regiments but they keep saying they’re needed elsewhere. Where are those reinforcements?
Fifteenth day, third local month, 942.M41
Finally some good news. The reinforcements are here. LT says they’re already deploying. First up north where the main fighting is, then the rest around until they have the greenskins totally encircled. Sounds like the plan is we hold the line while the bulk of our forces squeeze them from the north until they’re crushed between both sides. If the Emperor is merciful this will be over soon and I can go home.
Sixteenth day, third local month, 942.M41
They’re here already. And they’re awful. The reinforcements are mutants. The whole carking lot of them are animal-faced mutants. They’re big, bellowing, snorting beasts that yell and argue and smash their ram horns against one another. LT says they’re abhumans but they look like animals. There’s this one, big goat, keeps making eyes at me. I think it wants to eat me. But they’re doing the fighting now and we’re getting rotated off the front. I just want a hot meal and a warm bed.
Eighteenth day, third local month, 942.M41
We are back in the trenches. Had one whole day’s rest before the greenskins attacked again. They landed more ships in the ruins of Hale Harvest and tried another breakout attack. LT says there are armored divisions from the capital flown in to spearhead the attack. All we have to do is hold out alongside those things when the greenies break and flee our way. There are more of those things arriving to bulk up our defenses. One of them tried to talk to me today. The same one that was staring at me. They’re a lot freakier up close, big and tall and muscular. This one had bright purple eyes with square pupils and long shaggy hair that was like fur all over her head and chest and legs. But her voice. She had a woman’s voice, talked like a normal human. It was deeper and huskier than the girls back home but I could understand it easy. It was uncanny. She said I looked cold and offered our squad recaff from her ration kit. How do filthy mutants get recaff in the field and we’re stuck drinking bootwater and eating ration bars? Anyways she invited me back to her camp fire. I told her she was a mutant and there was no way I’d ever sit down with one of her kind. She just laughed. Said, “You are still cold. You shiver, I share.” Vile. I still took the recaff though.
Nineteenth day, third local month, 942.M41
Nothing new, but the mutant showed up again. This time with blankets. Probably crawling with fleas. But they’re better than the paper-thin coats our company was issued with. I told her I’d share them around. She puts another one on top. “That one is for you. Special. My special blanket from home.” I shouldn’t have cared but I asked her if she was gonna get cold. She laughs and flexes her arms and says “I already have a blanket of fur. You have a blanket of fur too. Maybe you don’t shiver so much.” Wonder what that meant.
Twenty-first day, third local month, 942.M41
They have alcohol! Somehow those animals got their hands on amasec! That mutant showed up with more recaff, a whole canteen she told me to share with my squad. I said thanks and went to leave, but she grabbed my wrist. I couldn’t pull free. She says “Take out your cup.” I take out my cup. She says “Pour some recaff.” I pour some recaff. And then she pulls out a bottle of amasec and pours a dram in the cup! “This is special. I am sharing it just with you. Do not tell anyone.” I promised so she’d let go of the cup and I could drink, but she takes it from me and takes a swing. My jaw dropped. The goat just laughed and said “It is how we share. Share tastes, yes?” Then she raises the cup to my lips and says “Drink.” I drink. And it was good.
Twenty-third day, third local month, 942.M41
The cold is getting worse. We just keep digging and keep watching for the orks. No more losses yet. I pray to the Emperor for strength. The mutants do it too. They have one, this skinny one with sad eyes gives long sermons standing on top of the trenches. It’s bizarre. I listened in one night, cause it was the closest thing to seeing a chaplain we got for weeks. Those mutants must have good night eyes cause the goat one saw me and invited me to join. I should not have but I sat down with her. On a little rock at the edge of the crowd of abhumans. And we listened to the sermon together. She was big. Almost as big as the orcs. But more human shaped, except the head and the hooves and the fur. And when I started shivering she put her arm around me. She was warm. I talked with her. Actually spoke with a mutant. Told her about how Baron died. “Hm. Big fight. You serve the Emperor, you die, the Emperor takes you. One day I will die. But if I serve the Emperor enough, maybe the Emperor takes me too. The Emperor takes Baron.” She snorted her big goat nostrils and nodded. Like it was all simple. Maybe it is. I told her I hoped Baron was with the Emperor and she just hugged me. “He is with the Emperor now. You are with me now.”
Twenty-fifth day, third local month, 942.M41
The orks have started coming in force. First these great loud bikes, then armored trucks full of greenskins. A few of them reached the trenches and there was fighting hand-to-hand. LT says to let the abhumans take the brunt of the fighting. And they are. They fight like mad. Got a chance to see that abhuman again. She puts her hands on me like it’s nothing now. Just throws her arm over my shoulder and said hello. I asked her name. “Gutta. I am Gutta. You?” I told her my name. She laughed and said “I will call you Shivers. Because of your shivers.” So there’s that.
Thirtieth day, third local month, 942.M41
LT is dead. The squad is dead. It’s been a few days since I could write. A pack of greenskins somehow snuck up on our section of the trenches a few nights ago. They were on us before we could react. Chopped half of us before the first shot. I managed to kill a couple and we rallied around the LT’s squad, but more orks were pouring in. Last thing I remember is someone shouting “Watch out!” before a great big explosion knocks me head-first into a stone in the trench wall. Thank the Emperor I had my helmet on. Next thing I know I’m being dragged along the ground. There’s roaring and lasgun fire and orks screaming. But I just keep staring up at the beast woman that’s carrying me to safety. How my head ached, but she laid me down and said “Stay here. Gutta’s gonna keep you safe now.”
And she did. Her regiment drove off the orks. She came back covered in blood that was freezing to her fur, and she picks me up, stinking like death and all, and carried me to a medicae. This one had tusks, and grunted instead of talking. But he wrapped my wounds so Gutta could take me to her cot.
I’ve been in shock for a while. I still get dizzy and can’t walk right. So for now I’m in the back-lines with the beasts. Reloaded weapons, fixing jams and keeping the recaff hot. I want to get back out there. Kill orks. Avenge my squadmates. But Gutta says she won’t let me and I don’t want to fight her. I’ve seen what she can do to an ork with just her claws.
Eighth day, fourth local month, 942.M41
I have failed the Emperor. I am tainted and my soul is unclean. I have laid with an abhuman. A mutant. It was like any other night at first. After a day of work keeping weapons clean or whatever else my “new squad” needed, Gutta came to the dugout where her cot is. And she picked me up and cuddled me like she started doing a week ago when I was still weak. And she stroked my hair and called me “Shivers” like she always did when she cuddled me. “We will move soon. We will charge the orks. Perhaps I will die and go with the Emperor.” Then she did something new. She held my head with her big hand and she kissed me. And she kept kissing me and kissing me and even though I tried to escape, honest to the Emperor I tried, she just held me down to keep kissing. Her tongue. It’s long and slippery and strong like the rest of her.
Gutta kissed me for so long. I think she tasted my dinner. Then she put her hand on my chest and says “Stay here. Gutta won’t hurt you.”
It was the first time I saw her out of her armor. It was a sight. The great mane of fur around her head ran down her chest between her tits and made a strip on her belly. The rest of her wasn’t so shaggy but still had a fine layer of soft hair like what covered her arms and face. I could see her abs, heaving with breath. Her breasts were round and perky and looked soft as any full human. It was revolting. It was beautiful. And the heat! She steamed when the armor came off. I don’t know how. But when she lowered herself down on me again it felt like she burned my skin. “You are mine. From the night we shared a drink. I am strong, Shiver. You are weak. I will take you.”
We made love. There is no other way to say it. For what felt like hours. She rode me like I was a beast myself. And she held me and kissed me as I thrust into her. And my lips tasted her abs and her tits and her tufty little tail and they especially tasted her lips. Again and again and again. Gutta and I were one.
She is asleep now. And when she wakes up she’ll put on her armor, and I’ll put on mine, and we’ll go out on the final assault together. If I die and someone finds this then it’s too late to do anything about it. And if I live then I’ll burn it when the battle’s over. May the God-Emperor watch over us. And may he forgive me.
Several days after the close of the battle of Hale Harvest, Commissar Blien oversaw the clearing of the battlefield. With a grimace, he closed the small leather-bound journal. It had only been a chance twist of his boot that had him stumble over the mangled pair of bodies, but it was an enlightening one. He pocketed the journal and called over a trooper. “Corporal! Fetch a flamer. I want these two bodies burned.”
Elsewhere, aboard a rickety old cargo shuttle repurposed for carrying troops in and out of space, Gutta the beast-woman pushed along a hunched, figure that wore a set of too-big flak armor that matched her own. The figure was much smaller than most of the other abhumans, and wore a face-concealing combat-mask attached to his helmet, but the shock of wooly fur protruding from it, and the strange hop-trot he made told him as just another beast-man on his way to whatever next conflict his regiment would be thrown into. In the crowd, only Gutta could see that the wooly fur sticking out of Shivers’ helmet was a cut of a blanket woven out of her own fur. And only the trooper knew that the reason he was walking so oddly was because Gutta had a firm grip on his ass, casually groping him as he was hustled aboard the space-craft by his beast-woman mate. He didn’t complain however. He just sighed. “I wish I hadn’t dropped my journal…”
That same journal, some weeks later, landed on the desk of Interrogator Malev of the Ordo Xenos. Along with a sheaf of After-Action Reports, eye-witness testimonies, and other reports of the Ork invasion of some backwater little agri-world of no real significance. The interrogator flicked through the journal lazily, selecting it only because it was on the top of the pile. As he went on reading, an eyebrow raised. Well, that was interesting. He made a mental note to check in on what regiments were dispatched to that particular conflict. The Inquisitor always liked having a few spare military assets to hand.