Chapter Text
Chapter one
Praxis was a quiet planet, always had been, never a place where anything interesting happened, but then chaos came, and infected the workers, the mining tunnels became a hive of lunacy.
The Imperial Guard had ended the lunacy, cured the planet of the madness in its core, the people who were shipped off world in a panic were safe to return to their homes, to mourn the dead and try to fix their broken lives.
Evil had arrived on Praxis, and evil always leaves a stain that's impossible to remove.
Leta Middenlocke sat on the back of the truck, squished between Bragg’s massive frame and the boy, Brin Milo, who she hadn’t formally met yet but who was staring at his feet as if she was trying to commit them to memory.
“You don’t get travel sick do you?” She asked “Please try and vomit away from me, I just got over a hangover.”
Milo stared at her as if he hadn’t quite heard and she realized that while he was the youngest Ghost, he had a hardness in his eyes that came from being a soldier.
It made her sad.
“No..Ma’am..” He paused, “I hate bumpy roads.”
Gaunt, who was sitting opposite them and who Leta had been not so subtly staring at for the past hour, laughed.
“Brin had a try of sacra..he hasn’t the stomach for it yet.”
Bragg and the other Ghosts crammed into the truck laughed, Milo blushed and stared at his boots again.
“It's fething strong stuff..” Leta smiled, trying to reassure Milo to the best of her abilities “You’ll get used to it.”
She rested her head on the canvas behind her, the truck went over a pothole and she frowned
“My first drink was moonshine, I puked.”
“Hard to imagine you not handling your booze.” Bragg joked
“In my defense I was fifteen.” She laughed at the memory “My Aunt was so mad at me, she put me on gut duty for two weeks.”
“Gut duty?”
Larkin, who was sat on Bragg’s other side asked
“Uncle was a fisherman, remember?”
“Ah..that makes sense.”
Leta scrunched her nose, remembering the smell of rotting fish.
“Guess thats where I got my knife skills from.”
She opened her eyes, Gaunt was smiling but everyone else was trying not to get knocked around the truck bed.
There was another bang, then the truck stopped.
“Got a fething flat tire!” Shouted the driver “Need a minute to replace it.”
“Bragg, go help.” Gaunt spoke to the giant man next to Leta, who nodded and stood up.
He had to bend over double to even walk.
“The rest of you..go stretch your legs, get some fresh air..Throne knows how long it’ll be before you taste it again.”
The men grumbled in agreement and Milo stood up, Leta copied, she was determined to make a friend of him, he after all was Gaunt’s assistant, it would do well to have him on her side.
The events of a few days ago flashed through Leta’s mind.
“We’d have to keep it secret.” His voice soft, his smile made her heart stop “But I’m willing to do it, if you are.”
It was a dream, her mouth moved faster than her brain
“Then so am I, Gaunt.”
“Ibram, please.”
“Ibram.”
He pulled her close to his chest and bent down to kiss her, it was everything she’d dreamt, she’d remembered the kiss that night, through the haze of sacra, remembered the taste of tobacco on his lips, but this was different, it was confident, a promise, he tasted of caf and toasted bread.
On the side of the road, The Ghosts had gathered, some disappeared into the bushes to relieve themselves, but most started smoking or drinking from canteens, Milo lingered near the edge of the dirt road and opened his canteen.
Leta approached, she pulled the half packet of smokes Bragg had given her, and the new box of matches, also courtesy of the big man.
“Want one?” She offered him the packet and took one for herself.
“No thank you, I don’t smoke.”
“Good.” She placed the white stick between her lips and lit a match “Terrible habit..”
She waved out the match before throwing it in the grass, she placed both items back into her pocket.
Milo almost laughed
“Nice tattoo..” She gestured to her cheek “They’re like…” She tried to remember what Larkin had told her “Family symbols, right?”
Milo nods, the blue fish on his cheek was still vibrant, new, fresh, like its owner.
“Bragg tell you that?”
“Larks.”
“Ah.” Milo clicked his tongue “Yours is uhh…it looks like it hurt.”
“Yep.” she blew smoke into the air between them “Worst part was it was done on route to Praxis, by a single needle…”
“Ouch.”
“The one on my back is way nicer..” She smiled “Got it done with my first wages by an actual artist..And no one ever sees it.”
“What about your hand?”
She held up her left hand, the black skull was wrapped, the fact the skin underneath was mostly burnt didn’t make her the perfect canvas.
“Didn’t heal right.”
She took another drag, the white-gray smoke came out of her nose and swirled around her, before drifting off.
“You play the pipes, right?”
“For morale..”
“For morale..” She smiled, he seemed proud of this “You know any songs that aren’t marching hymns?”
“A few.”
“We’ll have to have a sing-along.”
Milo laughed, “Sure.”
She heard footsteps behind her and glanced over her shoulder, it was Gaunt.
“Behaving yourself, Middenlocke?”
“Of course sir..” She offered him the packet, he declined with a wave of his hand, she frowned. “You should take advantage of my niceness ya know..it doesn’t happen often.”
“I only smoke cigars.”
“Well laa-dee-daa.”
Milo snorted, Gaunt smiled, Leta smiled back.
“Brin!” One of the Ghosts called from up front of the truck “C’mere we need someone with small hands!”
Leta swore she saw Milo’s eyes roll
“Excuse me.”
He gave Gaunt a curt nod and walked off, Leta took another drag of her cigarette.
“What happened to keeping it secret?” she whispered
“Can I not talk to one of my men?” Gaunt replied, his voice low.
“And is that all you want to do, sir?”
If her flirting had any effect on Gaunt, it didn’t show on his face, but in his eyes, there was a twinkle, the spark that could become a fire.
“Not when you say things like that.”
She stepped closer to him, to an outsider, it would just seem like she couldn’t hear him.
“Like what, Ibram?”
She blew smoke in his face, his hand flexed and then formed a fist, for a fleeting second, Leta thought he was going to hit her.
“Middenlocke..” His tone was one of warning, but also playful, almost as if daring her to continue, she decided against it, if that ball started moving it would never stop.
“Sorry..sir..”
“Apology accepted.”
He gave her a quick smile, before something elsewhere caught his attention and he walked off.
“Alright!” His voice carried to everyone, somehow powerful without actually shouting, a true talent, one that Leta didn’t have. “Break times over, time to go.”
Leta finished her cigarette and flicked it into the dirt, she returned to the truck and climbed into the back, she took her seat next to Milo, once again.
“Well..say goodbye to the sky.”
Milo nodded “Until we land somewhere else.”
“Emperor willing it’ll be somewhere warm..I hate the damp.”
“I hope there’s no sand, I hate sand.” Milo smiled, “It gets in your boots and is impossible to find all of it.”
“Sands great, nothing beats sand between your toes.”
Milo laughed, “A lot beats that, I hate it.”
“Better than trench foot.”
Milo shuddered “Okay, okay..I’ll give you that.” He clicked his fingers “But that's like saying burning to death is better than drowning.”
“Oh it is, for sure.”
As the truck started back up, and the rest of the Ghosts took their seats, Milo and Leta continued talking, debating just the pros and cons of burning to death.
Gaunt watched, trying his best not to stare at how Leta became so alive when she laughed, at how the corners of her eyes crinkled and how her pink lips formed the perfect smile, she looked relaxed, she looked younger.
She looked beautiful.
He had to focus, to not get caught up in his emotions like a lovesick school boy, he was too old for that, he had to prepare himself for the journey ahead, he still wasn’t sure where his Ghosts would be sent, to which inhospitable hell they would be reclaim for the glory of the emperor.
Leta laughed, loud and infectious, whatever Milo had said had tickled her, Gaunt smiled, he hoped that this war wouldn’t take that laugh from her.