Work Text:
Yarrick just looked at him with was probably a murderous expression.
Pyrrhus was still dressed in that stupid jacket, fake and real medals hanging onto it while patches covered the sleeves. One of them was the mark of Taktikus warband, making it clear he belonged to a group more than just saying he was just part of the Blood Axe clan (Which he wasn’t . A human could not be part of an ork clan, it was just another delusion of his). His shoes were steel toed for no other reason than to be as close to the ork version of their clothing style as possible. The general was clearly desperately trying to fit in, with the rest of the warband. Pathetic .
The general was dressed up like a damn greenskin, walked around speaking their language, drinking fungus beer and eating squigs. The general must consider himself as close to an ork a human could get. Pyrrhus called it being an ambassador, Yarrick called it being a heretic that was pulling away from his humanity. Refusing the glory of being in the Emperor's image, turning away from that holy depiction of being a human in preference of trying to be a xeno.
But no matter how much the general tried, tried to be a xeno, to be and ork Yarrick could see in the orks eyes that they saw the matter differently.
Saw him as a bad parody. A pathetic and annoying weakling trying its best to fit in where he would never belong. It was like watching a grot parade around calling themselves warboss except the orks knew they could not give them a proper kicking. Knew that if they touch so much as one hair on the humies head Taktikus would not only punish them, no, because that would be a good fight. No, the warboss would make them die in a way that would leave Gork and Mork disappointed.
Orks didn’t fear death, they didn’t fear a fight so Taktikus would figure out a way to kill his fellow greenskins that would touch upon the real fear. Dying badly . Dying without a fight, without it being funny, just an unnoticeable and boring death which would leave their twin Gods frowning.
Yarrick knew of at least one such case of Taktikus work (Despite the warboss lying by saying he had nothing to do with it). An ork who handled Pyrrhus a bit carelessly and insulted him and Taktikus had in response somehow trapped them in a room and let them starve to death without anyone finding the body before it was already decomposed beyond recognition. A bad death. It had disturbed some of the other orks, well, at least as much as an ork could be disturbed…Grotsnik had found it enjoyable which was telling how cruel this plan had been. Anyway, in the end the message had been so crystal clear even the most thickheaded of orks had gotten it.
Some of the other orks humored Pyrrhus, calling him boss the way you would a child. Seeing him almost like a mascot of sorts. Like a pet they had running around in the ranks, dressing him in outfits for a good quick laugh. A thing to be kept alive, but not truly respected.
Then it was those who just treated him nicely trying to get rewards from Taktikus, get on his good side through the human.
Yarrick and Pyrrhus were sitting alone at a table in the “brew hut”, more like a “brew room” since they were still stuck in a ship but the orks didn’t seem to care if it truly was a hut or just a room. The important thing was that here was where you went to get wasted.
Yarrick had gone here to see if they still had amsec lying around and had then been spotted by the general who had invited him to his table and Yarrick had (stupidly) sat down. He was not sure why he had done it. Him and Pyrrhus were not exactly friends and never seeked each other out, instead they just kept running into each other.
Still, speaking to a human instead of an ork was refreshing while being stuck here on the kroozer and for this specific day he had this feeling of growing need for some human connection, and this was his only option at even trying to satisfy it. So even if it left him with a bitter taste, he had accepted the invitation, if the general had said nothing he would have ignored the feeling in his stomach that felt disgustingly close to loneliness and just stayed alone.
He had been alone before, for 3 years as a child during the ork invasion. So loneliness was not something new to him. He knew he could live with it…But he had been invited. And now he was here, so he would make the best of it and hope that feeling would ebb a bit.
Yarrick took a mouthful of amsec from his third glass, and spoke:
“It's Emperor ascension day”
That made Nestor stop mid-sip.
That's why Yarrick had decided he could probably stand the general stupidity for a while. To celebrate the holy holiday even slightly with someone who despite their weird and heretical views of the Emperor's desires swore up and down and he was no traitor and truly believed in their religion still.
The general swallowed the fungus beer down only barely scrunching his face in disgust from the taste before answering.
“How do you know?”
“Been trying to keep track of the days. If I’m calculating it right, so is it today.” Days were not clear on the ship out in space without any clocks but he had counted each time he had gone to bed as one day having passed and with that calculation today was the day.
Nestor looked down into his tankard and swirled it around for a second before giving Yarrick a smile.
“Well, cheers then” he lifted up the tankard “For the Emperor!”
Rage flashed inside like his heart like a spark hitting gunpowder and as the general was about to take a chug Yarrick just smacked it out of his hand. The tankard hit the floor with a ‘Tong!’ as metal hit metal. No one in the room seemed to care or even notice. Orks were loud and violent, most probably had not even heard it over their own shouting and hollering.
The beer spilled out over the floor, joining the rest of the stains that had left the surface stickier and then a fly trap. Some nobs pet squig saw the freshly spilled drink and started to lick it with much enthusiasm.
“Don’t cheer for His holiness and then drink a xeno drink” Yarrick snarled, making Pyrrhus stop looking at the tankard like some sad Gyrinx kitten having watched their milk bowl be tipped over and instead turned towards him with a look of annoyance.
“Well we aren't exactly bathing in amsec here. We take what we can get, we need to save it for-”
“We don’t have to take this at all” he snapped back. Just because they were on an ork ship didn’t mean that they had to change or accept what life had thrown at them with silent surrender. “And what is a better time to take it then to honour the Emperor?”
“Well, I didn’t know we would be doing that when I bought the damn beer did I?” he snapped right back, crossing his arms over his chest “You owe me teef”
“You owe me your life every day I show you mercy by not putting a bullet through your skull” the general just rolled his eyes.
“Ease up with the threats Bale eye , this is a day for celebrating and getting a day off work”
“Don’t call me that” that was what the orks called him, he did not wish to hear it from the mouth of a human as well. He was willing to accept being called “Hero of Hades hive" and “old man”, one was a title he had accepted as it came with his status as a symbol for the Imperium and Armageddon a symbol for the fight against the vile xenos of the universe. The other was an accurate description. But the nickname “Old Bale Eye" was a name used only by orks and he wanted to keep it that way.
The general seemed frustrated but spoke in a somewhat leveled tone but you could feel the irritation bubbling under the surface.
“Loosen up a little, Yarrick . We’re not in immediate danger, we’re on an ork ship, it's a day of celebration, you don’t have to act like a commissar all the time…”.
Loosen up? Here? On the damn ork ship?!
Yarrick gave the room a quick glance around, seeing all the orks inside this room, arguing, competing in a plethora of dangerous games or games they made dangerous by adding the threat of violence if their fellow players didn’t like the end scores. All around them were orks, hollering, singing, putting on shows as they told stories of their grand battles and about beasts they had slain.
Loosen up? They were surrounded by the enemy. They were on the enemy ship. A ship that was the home of the biggest threat to the Imperium. Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka.
Yarrick ignored how just the thought of the warlord made his heart jump inside his chest, but not out of fear, oh no. It was for a very different reason, a reason he refused to acknowledge, a feeling he wouldn’t put a name to. He was burying it, burying deep enough he hoped it would suffocate and start to rot.
“Just talk like-”
“Loosen up?” he hissed between his teeth, giving the general a glare that would make even astartes get chills. “Not acting like a commissar? General, that’s what I have been doing. If I had been acting like a true commissar I would have killed you.” he leaned closer but to his credit Pyrrhus didn’t shy away, he kept their eyes locked “I should kill you, but it’s not worth the effort. That’s how you stay alive, annoying and heretical enough to be preferred dead but not a bother worthy of the repercussions that would affect me after your death.” he snapped “How can you be so delusional? What wicked thoughts and words do you twist and turn and bastardize to fit in with your perception of the universe?”
Pyrrhus just looked at him, his eyebrows furrowing. Yarrick saw his hands turn into fists but didn’t acknowledge it or openly reveal he noticed it. He just kept staring right at Pyrrhus, their eyes locked.
“I’m not your enemy.”
Not his enemy? He was the friend of orks, and the friend of my enemy is my enemy. This was the man throwing his lot in with creatures that had ravaged the Imperium, who had burned it, blundered, relished in the slaughter of humans. The beasts that had killed Yarrick’s own grandfather, killed some of his closest allies and people he might even admit he had seen as friends. And now Pyrrhus was coming here, ally to those killers and say he was not the enemy?
‘And here you sit like you’re not the same as him. Like your heart does not reach out towards the warlord. Like you’re not seething with envy that he gets to live by the side of an ork with a guiltless conscious and shameless life while you carry this heavy burden of truth’
No, no he was not thinking about that.
‘That he gets to live an oblivious joyous life thinking the Emperor is cheering him on, while you feel His eyes burning holes through you. Staring at you with disgust waiting for the moment you truly fall from grace and hit rock bottom. He knows you will fall for you are weak’
“I’m no heretic-” Pyrrhus continued but was cut off.
“You are a heretic. Orks and the Imperium joining forces? That's heresy or idiocy-" Suddenly the general snapped back, with his own venom.
“I’m not a fool. I know this work will be hard, being an uphill battle both from here and the Imperium but I’m ready to fight for it. Because I’ve seen it. Seen it’s possible. I know it's possible and it's blessed by the Emperor, you just need to have some faith! Some faith in me and the Emperor. I can do this-”
“Don’t tell me to have faith in the Emperor!" Yarrick snarled in a way that made him cringe inside “I have full faith in the Emperor! I’m His servant and I know He would never bless this madness! It will never happen!" he should stop, he should not keep going. He was better than this, should know better than this. This was already over the line and still he kept going, words flooding it out his mouth without an end in sight. A deep feeling twisting inside him like a snake before slithering out as venom. And still the words were thrown at the man meant to hurt him, but deep down he knew those poison was not made for him. But for the man he saw in the mirror.
Maybe he had been away from the Imperium for too long, the common and clear structure, feeling eyes on him all the time, knowing his role to play and playing it well, all that gone. The civility of the Imperium gone, turning him wild and out of control. No better than the xenos on this damned ship.
“You’re a delusional fool! I don’t know how you became a general with how you’ve been leading. With feelings for a damn xeno, a xeno that clearly doesn't feel the same about you and is tricking you! Tricking you to care, tricking you to think he loves you! They’re playing you like a damn puppet, you’re letting a damn greenskin get the better of you! There can never be an ork Imperium allegiance! An ork can never love someone! Get that stupid thought out of your head you Throne damned heretic, you doomed yourself you fool! The Emperor-”
No more snarling words escaped him as pain suddenly flared across his face as Pyrrhus fist connected with his nose.
Nestor had tried to save humans in the past. Over and over again he had tried just to get it spit back at his face.
Stopping patrols and regiments. Breaking ships enough that they could not leave but not kill the crew. And then speaking about his revelation, about his ideas about the truth. In return the people had chosen to rather die than open their eyes to reality, to a new world.
He was Sisyphus, trying his best to push that damned rock up the mountain just to watch it tumble all the way down to the bottom, over and over again. And each time he went back, went back to start and started to push it up once again.
Because he had to keep trying .
He kept failing, over and over again and he was starting to feel like a rock by the ocean side, the waves of failure caressing him over and over again slowly chipping away at him. His resolve vanishing piece by piece with each failed attempt.
He had tried to make people see things from his point of view just to be called heretic, crazy, a fool.
He had saved people, orks had saved people, those teams ups between the two species had happened to great success at places. What to stop it from working long term and on a grander scale? The intelligence and strategic nature of the Imperium combined with the fire power and strength of ork, no one would be able to stop them! They would wipe out those eldar, smash those Tau’s to pieces under their might, chase the Tyranids out of the system! They would purge this universe clean and claim what was rightfully theirs as decreed by their God-Emperor.
But that didn’t seem to matter to most people. All they saw was savages, brutal xeno that were only good dead.
And with each failed attempt at convincing someone, negotiations turned to slaughter.
But he had to keep trying. Because even if he kept failing, maybe next time, maybe next time would be the time he would succeed, maybe he would get it right. He had to try.
Maybe if he phrased it differently? Maybe if he approached them differently? Maybe if showed his hand more? Maybe if he showed his hand less? Trial and error over and over again. He was pulling the strings in this grand tapestry trying to make it look right. Changing the notes trying to make the melody stop being off-key. Removing and adding code hoping it would finally run correct. And each time it became clear he had done it wrong yet again. Each time he had to wipe the blood off his hands and start over from scratch.
Emperor, the greatest of Gods, the saviour of mankind please help him, a lonely general trying to carry his message. Give him strength. Give him enlightenment. Show him how to make it look right, make it sound right, make it run right. Because all he knew was failure so grand and deep he could not even see what parts that he should keep to bring success.
He would not give up, never, but…
One person.
If he could just convince and save one person, that would be enough.
It would show he was on the right path, that this was possible, this quest was not hopeless. And even if he could just save one person, that was one life saved. One person enlightened to the truth.
At least with that he could die happy knowing he had done something right.
It had been graning on him, and Yarrick words had not helped. A man so interlinked with an ork. The two of them were so similar, both being connected and informed about the greenskins race, and here the commissar was denying his mission. Calling it foolish, stupid, impossible. If Nestor could not convince him, then how could he convince anyone?
He sat there as Yarrick was growling and spitting his venom Nestor shooting back at times just to get striked at again with the commissar's harsh words, but as the conversation carried on the old man's voice was changing, warping, the snarling words no longer his own.
He didn’t realize what was different before it hit him.
Phocus .
He didn’t know why but when Yarrick spoke all he could hear was Phocus . Snarling at him, whispering about how he was being played, how he was a failure, how he should call quits and lay down his arms and flee this all like the coward he was so the colonel could take his place. Take over and claim all the glory.
Heretic. Fool. Failure. Coward
It was echoing in his head. It was maddening.
Why? Why was he in his head? Why was he here, Phocus was not here. He could not be here but each time he blinked he just saw his face. But not that bloody beaten mess he had caused. No, it was perfect again, not even a scratch. His eyes narrowed with disgust, with doubt, his voice a snarl, a venomous hiss, a whisper in his ear how he was wrong. How he was being played for a fool yet again.
‘How many more people have to die for your delusional ideas general?’
They were not delusional. He would show him. He would prove it, prove it to everyone. He just needed more time. He just needed them to trust him. He knew what he was doing.
‘You’ve doomed yourself you old fool’.
No. No this was a holy mission, Nestor was His holy servant-
“I have full faith in the Emperor! I’m his servant and I know he would never bless this madness!”
No, no this was possible, an ork human allegiance was possible! It was! It could not be a lie! He could not have sacrificed so many people, killed so many in the name of this mission just for it to be a lie.
Phocus was tricking him, always was a deceitful little git. Always had it out for him.
'Nestor, please. This is... this is a fantasy. This is madness”
He could not fail because that would mean all this death would have been for nothing! All this trial and error would mean there was never a correct solution, never a good outcome, he had killed people for nothing and would keep killing people for nothing.
It could be real! It could be real! He had seen it! It was true!
“-A xeno that clearly doesn't feel the same about you and is tricking you! Tricking you to care, tricking you to think he loves you!”
No! No that is not true! That was a lie! Taktikus would never betray him! Never play him! He would not do that! Nestor knew him better than Yarrick, better than Phocus! Better than anyone else! Taktikus would never betray him! Nestor had seen the golden light and the great green merged! It was true! It was true! Everyone else was just out to get him!
“They’re playing you like a damn puppet, you’re letting a damn greenskin get the better of you! There can never be an ork Imperium allegiance! An ork can never love someone! Get that stupid thought out of your head you Throne damned heretic, you doomed yourself you fool! The Emperor-”
Before he knew it he heard a harsh ‘crack’ as his fist connected with Yarrick’s nose. He had thrown it before he even could think about the possible repercussions of hitting a commissar in the face. It probably didn’t matter much, those old titles of statues were pretty meaningless on an ork ship, and it was not uncommon for the guard to ‘accidently’ lose or hit a commissar with a “stray shot” at times.
Some commissars thought they were so high and mighty, untouchable, that they could shoot anyone in the head and everyone would just shake in so much fear that no one would even consider shooting back. Those commissars were fools, even a worm would turn in the end, and Nestor Pyrrhus? Well, he had been living with orks long enough to have a revelation, seeing his own boyfriend handle an unjust boss. If the one that can shoot you in the face is threatening or bothering you, fight back.
Blood flowed out of Yarrick’s nose as he immediately got up and stepped away by reflex, the sudden movement making Nestor also stand up and step away.
“Shut up!” he scremed “Shut your mouth! You’re a liar! You’re the fool! I’m bringing greatness! They’re gonna call me Lord General, a hero of the Emperium! I will not fail! I WILL HAVE GREATNESS AND IT WILL BE THE HOUSE OF PYRRHUS WHO RAISE THE FLAG OF VICTORY!” he was screaming, louder than any ork in the room, making the room go silent for a heart stopping moment before the wind whistled as Yarrick swung his klaw right at his head.
Nestor went low, able to dodge under it. He went forward to go for a gut punch but was stopped when Yarrick side stepped him and was able to deliver a savage hit to the side of his temple with his own fist.
Yarrick was old, but Nestor was no fool. He knew his age and thin build was deceiving, so even if he himself was more agile so was Yarrick’s own ability and strength nothing to scoff at. Which was proven more than enough with that after the hit so Nestor's head flared with pain but he pushed through it and jumped back, baring his teeth at the other man.
“Think you're a big man huh?! You’re cozying up to the great warlord and telling me to back off! I can see what you’re doing! You’re gonna try to bring together this allegiance and leave me in the dust! I’m not going to let you take the credit!” He was just like Phocus , trying to steal his glory! Steal what was rightfully his! Make him doubt himself! It was not going to work! The Emperor was testing his resolve! He had passed the test last time and he would do it again!
Yarrick glare turned even more deadly and his body tensed.
“Like I would want to join forces with orks!”
“You think I’m blind commissar!? I’ve seen how he looks at you, how he talks about you! That is not the tone of hatred!” his snarl turned to smug grin “And don’t pretend the feeling is not reciprocated"
Yarrick didn’t respond, instead he quickly moved towards him. His steppes were heavy, his heel hitting the ground with determination, like each step was a command, a decision finalized. Thonk. Thonk. Thonk. Like a hammer
The Orks started hollering and chanting as they watched the two humans go at it with punches and kicks being thrown. Usually this sparked other fights as orks got pulled into the excitement of it all, but seemed like such was not the case this time. They seemed more interested in just watching how humans did it, too busy observing to start a scrap of their own.
Nestor moved forward to meet him trying to punch him again but Yarrick side stepped him and snatched him by the waist with his claw and just threw him into the wall.
“Get him old Bale Eye!” Some Goff shouted from the sideline. “Crush his skull!”
Nestor slammed into the wall, his shoulder hitting it first making it flare with pain but had other things to worry about as Yarrick reached him again and pushed his klaw against his throat making it hard to breathe. He could feel his windpipe close, and he started to gasp for air. Nestor reached up with his hands, grasping at the metal and tried to pull it away but to no avail. Yarrick was too strong and his fingers just clawed against the cold metal without leaving as much a scratch.
He gasped and stared up at Yarrick’s cold expression. There was no emotion on his face, just that familiar scowl and Nestor felt his heart sink.
He’s going to kill me.
He was gonna turn those threats to reality.
He’s going to end my quest here and now without saving even one preson.
Nestor held the commissar's gaze, and that's when he realized he had a better target and reached out and scratched at his remaining eye.
Yarrick let out a curse and stepped back, blood trailing down from the wound Nestor had made. He had missed hurting his eye but he had been able to scratch the skin right over his eyebrow.
“Good one general!” Some ork boy cheered but it was ignored.
Nestor kicked Yarrick right in the knee, the steel toe protecting his own feet and making the commissar hiss in pain and he moved backwards slightly, easing up his pinning just enough. Nestor, not wanting to miss the opportunity, threw his head back and Yarrick, noticing the action, mirrored him as he realized what he was about to do.
‘CRACK!’
Their foreheads hit each other and Nestor felt his vision go white for a second. Sharp pain burst through his skull and it felt like his brain had been bouncing around inside his head from the shock.
His ears were left ringing, he could barely hear the loud ecstatic screams from the orks around them over the loud whistling and static he was hearing.
Orks considered headbutting holy so seeing the two humans go at it and doing an actual bonk seemed to have set them all off as they were still screaming and holloring so loudly it felt like it was making the whole ship shake.
Nestor stumbled backwards, having to put his hand on the wall to stay upright while Yarrick reeled for a second and widened his stance but was able to stay standing without assistance.
Yarrick recovered first and with a snarl he tried to retaliate with his klaw but Nestor was able to jump to the side despite still being partly dazed and pulled the blade of his grandfather out from the scabbard. He had almost been choked to death a second a ago, he was not going to let him try it again.
He pulled the sword out and held it up, the light catching on the metal blade he then got into a ready position before suddenly the world seemed to just stop. The sound of the world went distant as Nestor just looked at the sword and then up at Yarrick who seemed to be realizing the same thing.
Pulling out a weapon changes the tension. Previously it’s been nothing but a tussle, but bringing out an actual weapon made them actually stop and think for a second, well, as best they could with both their brains reeling from the headbutt.
This situation was of course deadly before this, Yarrick had the advantage of having a klaw which might as well be considered a weapon, but Nestor pulling the sword made them both realize that this could now easily turn into a fight only one of them left alive, and more than that the thought passing inside their minds were ‘Is it worth it?’.
Is this argument, this fight, worthy to die or kill the other over?
They just stared at each other in silence, Nestor’s eyes meeting Yarrick’s lone. Blood was trailing down over the commissar's eyebrow and from his nose over his lips. Meanwhile the general felt his own blood slowly trail down from his forehead and down the side of his nose as it seemed the headbutt had broken skin on his part.
Nestor bared his teeth while Yarrick gave him a scowl that would chill a demon prince but neither moved, leaving space between the two of them.
“You betrayed the God Emperor” Yarrick said in the end, voice cold.
“I’m trying to save the Imperium.” Nestor replied with conviction “I’m trying to join forces to get rid of the ork threat in a new way. I’m trying to make a strong allegiance but none of you can see that. None of you understand that.”
“You’re delusional. Orks and humans can’t be together.”
“Look at me!” Nestor snapped right back “I’m an orks boyfriend! Look at me and say I’m wrong! That love is-”
“Love with an ork is impossible! They can’t feel it! Stop deluding yourself! Stop thinking about these treacherous things!”
“I don’t think they are!” he snapped back. “The Golden light and the great green are meant to be one! The Emperor is blessing this-”
“No he’s not!”
“They can be together! Humans and orks can be one! Love is possible-”
“No I can’t love an ork-”
Yarrick’s scowl finally broke and a flash of horror showed on his face before the commissar hid again just as quickly.
Silence.
Dead silence.
They just stared at each other.
Nestor had, of course, had hints about this. He had heard about Yarrick blushing around Ghazghkull at least once, seen how that look of disgust when Nestor was with Taktikus held a hint of something more to it. But, even if he’d had hunches, to just say it like this was a shock.
“You?” he questioned, his voice no longer angry, it was more a mix of gentle and questioning but he got no response.
Yarrick was already leaving, having turned around and stormed out and Nestor didn’t move. The orks in the room seemed to take this as Yarrick tucking his tail between his legs and running so a loud yell of excitement rang out, and even louder from the Blood Axes who were going crazy over their humie beating Old Bale Eye.
But even if the orks were celebrating Nestor just stayed there, looking at the commissar leaving.
He had in a way won, but it did not feel like a victory.
Nestor was sitting by Taktikus side in their room, taking apart and cleaning his gun while the ork warboss was pretending to do the same, except the picking apart thing because he would not be able to put it back together if he actually did that.
Nestor still had bruises on his throat from where Yarrick had pressed the klaw days ago, and the punch he had delivered to his head, but they were fading. His forehead still had a scab from the headbutt but at least he had not gotten a concussion.
Taktikus still was very proud of the outcome of the fight, bragging how his grod had beaten the great Bale Eye. The Blood Axe’s were impressed, the other orks accused him of somehow cheating as that was all Blood Axe’s did before coming with thousands of reasons why that was the case. It had started several bralws which Nestor stayed out of. He did not speak about the fight, did not retell it like an ork would or Taktikus would for that matter (even if the warboss had not even been there to see it). Not with grand theatrics and sound effects. Nestor just wanted to forget the whole thing to be honest.
Him and Yarrick had a fight like two children arguing if tomato is said tomayto or tomahto. It was stupid. Two old men like them getting into fists fights and yelling in a room full of people? It was childish, it was like something the nobles and politicians did.
Nestor sighed, and looked at his boyfriend who was cleaning his sniper rifle while humming a familiar tune.
“When in deadly danger, When beset by doubt, Run in little circles, Wave your arms and shout” he mumbled while snickering to himself over the humie song. Nestor hadn't meant to teach him that song, he had just been muttering it and the boss had picked it up.
”Don’t sing that around Yarrick” he was worried the commissar would take that the Blood Axe now knew the song which was a parody usually sung by commissar cadets as a mockery.
Taktikus turned his eyes towards Nestor and frowned.
“Who cares about that git?” he was still mad at the commissar for hurting him but he was probably even madder he could not really retaliate. No one had died and no one had been seriously injured so it was not worth going after Yarrick and earning Ghazghkulls wrath. Taktikus was smart enough to understand that, but it didn’t make him any less angry.
‘Who cares about that git?’ Well, they in a way got their answers when they heard heavy thuds that could only belong to one person.
It was not uncommon to hear Ghazghkull move around. He took walks, he checked different parts of the ships, it was kind of hard not to hear a thousand ton heavy ork. Even if he did not venture to the Blood Axe part of the ship usually so shouldn’t it be a surprise. He came here at times, usually looking for kommandos or seeking out Taktikus. However, Nestor stopped cleaning the gun and his heart started to sink inside his chest.
He should not be worried, this was not unusual, but still it nagged him. He had been in the same room as the warlord before without issues. He had been nervous then as well, but this was deeper. He was not simply nervous, he was scared .
Scared that Ghazghkull was seeking him out. Even though he doubted Ghazghkull cared one iota about him. He was just Taktikus humie most of the time, why did Ghazghkull care about him? Why would he seek you out?
‘He’s seeking revenge for Yarrick. Because that’s his grod.’
“General?” Taktikus asked, leaning his head on the side like he did when he was confused. Maybe he could see or even smell the fear radiating off him and in response the warboss was tensing. Getting ready to fight whatever that had set the humie off, or maybe the smell of terror was just activating his instincts for violence.
Nestor pushed that thought down and just shook his head to the ork. He was hoping he was wrong, but still, with each heavy step he felt more nervous. His hands were sweaty and his heart was pounding as he realized the thuds were coming closer and closer, shaking the walls and the floor making the general dread each new step. It was like listening to the ticking of a bomb until the door was open, revealing the giant form of the warlord of warlords.
Nestor stared at him in surprise before quickly averting his eyes, looking down at his gun and kept cleaning it. He was trying to look small, like he was not even there, just a part of the decor. Not worthy of attention.
In the corner of his eye he saw Taktikus jump to his feet, throwing the sniper reilfe over his shoulder and saluted.
“Boss,-!” He started happily but didn’t get any further.
“I’m not here for you” Ghazghkull cut him off in low gothic.
Nestor froze as he realized his fear had not been unfunded. If Ghazghkull had not come here, to his and Tatkikus room in search for the warboss. Then there was just one other reason he had come here.
Nestor didn’t look up immediately but he felt that one red eye looking down at him, burning through the back of his head.
He didn’t want to look up, fearing what would happen after he truly acknowledged the ork standing there. But what he feared more was what would happen if he ignored the warlord so slowly Nestor lifted his gaze, moving upwards until he was looking at the beast of Armageddon's face, who was leaning over him.
Nestor did not even reach his knee while standing so the looming was a bit overkill but it did not stop him from feeling his heart pounding inside his chest and ears to the degree he was worrying it would give out.
He put down the gun back in the holster and got to his feet in a daze and saluted, trying his best to not make his body shake.
Ghazghkull was a scary motherfrakker. A giant, and still it felt like his presence took up even more space than simply physically. His glare felt like it could pierce right into your soul. His teeth were bigger than Nestor’s whole arm and he had no doubt the warlord could bite him in half without issues, frak, Nestor would not even count as a snack to such a gigantic ork.
“Yes Boss?” Nestor forced out, being able to keep most of the shaking out of his voice.
“What did you do to Old Bale Eye?” he asked, voice cold as ice.
Nestor's worst fear had turned true then. He was mad, he was mad at what he had done to the commissar, done to the warlord's grod. There was no other explanation.
Nestor had hoped he would be more forgiving. Orks fought all the time and didn’t blink an eye. He had thought this would be considered an issue just between him and Yarrick, but it seemed that Ghazgkull had also jumped into the fray, just like Taktikus had been aching to do.
The idea of lying flashed through his mind but he dismissed it just as quickly. Ghazghkull would either figure out he was lying or simply not believe it. And Nestor would not even consider what the punishment of trying to deceive the warlord was.
“Me and Yarrick had a fight, and I won-”
“What was the fight about?” Ghazghkull cut him off and by the dear Emperor was he terrifying.
“A-a disagreement of…opinions considering orks and the Emperor” at the mention of the holy God did Ghazghkull roll his eye and let out a low growl.
“Bale Eye has been grumpy and snapping since your disagreement .” he said in a low tone while leaning closer, making Nestor smell his foul breath.
Taktikus lifted a finger as if to intejcet but the warlord cut him off without even taking his eyes away from Nestor.
“More than usual . And you humie, is going to go to him and fix it”.
Nestor just blinked a few times, surprised by the sudden order and that the warlord thought Nestor somehow would be able to change the commissar's mood.
Yarrick was stubborn, that was one of the first things you learned about him. Had held Hades Hive with nothing, could use an Ork klaw because (according to orks) he simply wanted it to work. Yarrick had Von Strab cut him off at each step during the ork invasion and the commissar somehow always forced his way through or found a path around it. So if Yarrick was grumpy, Nestor would not be able to cheer him up if he was dead set on being cranky.
“He probably does not want to see me” he replied after some seconds of thinking (or more accurately a few seconds of hesitation). “Seeing me would probably make it worse-”
“You break it, you fix it” Ghazghkull cut him off, making it clear he was not going to let him weasel his way out of this “And you will fix this or I’ll break you ”
He saw Taktikus tense from the corner of his eye but not acting quite yet. He didn’t want to make any strikes against the warboss if possibly avoided. Knowing that would be a fight with bad odds and attacking the prophet was not something you did lightly.
“I’ll…I’ll see what I can do” he said with a nod, and they just stared at each other for a second the silence felt suffocation as the only noise was their breaths and the normal groaning of the half hazardly put together ship.
“ Now humie” the ork snapped, racing his voice slightly and that was enough to send Nestor’s heart leaping inside his chest in panic.
He had no idea how Yarrick could talk to this terrifying figure for more than a moment.
“Yes, of course boss!” he said and stood up and made a quick salute and walked out of the room, throwing a glance over his shoulder seeing Taktikus looking at him with a concern expression while Ghazghkull was giving him a stare that could kill lesser men, and made Nestor to quickly turn his eyes to the path ahead instead, but he could still feel those red eyes glaring into the back of his head.
Nestor began to walk towards Yarrick's room, trying to figure out something to say that could possibly placate the commissar.
He failed.
Soon enough he was standing outside his room without much of a plan.
He sighed.
‘Well, let's hit this with everything we got’ he thought bitterlöy and knocked and got an immediate response.
“Zog off” Yarrick barked in orkish, and it was clear he thought it was an ork outside wishing to bother him. Maybe he’d been dealing with that a lot.
Nestor felt his heart sink.
Welp, this was off to a great start.
“Commisar, may I come in?” He started, voice professional.
There was a long moment of silence as Yarrick probably realized there was no greenskin outside and not only that, it was the general who he had been fighting just a couple days ago now outside his door for some reason.
Nestor just waited there in eerie silence as the commissare was probably either thinking through a response or setting up a trap to kill him.
“Come in and close the door after you” was the final response and Nestor opened the door and looked inside.
It was a barren room, only having the bare essentials. It was clear that the commissar refused to make himself comfortable or plan for a longer stay even if he had been here for a long while at this point.
He had been sitting by a desk reading a book which he had stopped and instead turned his chair towards the door.
Thankfully he seemed relaxed, well, as relaxed as he could get, and not like he was about to fly to his feet and start round 2 of their fight.
His nose seemed to have been reset, probably had done it himself, and the scratch over his eyebrow was barely noticeable by now.
Nestor closed the door behind him and it was then Yarrick spoke.
“Why are you here?”.
Nestor gave him a smile.
“Do I need a reason other than just wishing to talk to the other humie around?” he joked and Yarrick just gave him a cold look in return, “Ghazghkull threatened me if I didn’t come here and ask what you’re up to” he revealed pretty much at once.
“What I am up to?” Yarrick asked, crossing his right leg over the other.
“He said you’ve been…” he waved his hand in the air as if he was trying to find the word for it in low gothic when in reality he was just trying to think of a nicer way to put it.
“Just say it.” the commissar suddenly said as if he knew what he was doing and thinking.
“Grumpy? Moody?"
“Am I not fun enough for the warlords of warlords?” he replied, and Nestor was pretty sure he was being sarcastic.
There was a long moment of silence as they seemed to not really know what to say to each other. Nestor didn’t know why he was so bad at this with Yarrick, at times it felt like the commissar could just kill a conversation without meaning to do it.
“Why are you…being moody?”
“I’m not moody ” He said and sent him a glare and Nestor was unsure if his or Ghazghkull’s was worse.
Silence yet again.
Nestor sighed and dragged his hand down his face.
“Look, I know you hate me” he was about to continue but Yarrick was able to cut in before he could.
“I don’t hate you” he replied which honestly stunned Nestor into silence “I have hated people. I know how it feels to hate , and I do not hate you ”
Nestor just stared at him for a second before he snorted with amusement and shook his head in disbelief.
“Could have fooled me”
Screaming at him how he did things wrong, nagging at him, reprimanding him, and wishing to kill him the first time they met. What was that if not hate?
He then continued.
“You were going to kill me” Well, maybe that didn’t automatically mean he hated him. Killing was in the commissar job description, you didn’t need to have any strong feelings to shoot someone, it was just business for them.
“I was not going to kill you,” Yarrick replied. “If I wanted to kill you I would have grabbed your throat with the klaw and just crushed it without a second thought…And I do not hate you. It’s your decisions that…bother me”.
That just left him at a loss of words once again.
“ Bother you?” he asked, not fully understanding what he was exactly referring to.
“That you…” he sighed and pinched his nose ridge as if he was not fully sure how to put it either, or maybe he just didn’t want to say it “You’re in love with an ork”
“You are too?” the words just slipped out and Nestor immediately regretted that.
He braced and was ready for shouting, for denying, even a new fight but none of those things happened, instead there was silence. Just dead silence
Yarrick just looked at him for a long moment before looking away, as if the book left on the table was suddenly more interesting.
“That would be heredical” he replied in the end his voice conveyed no emotion. It was not even cold, it just felt…empty?
“But are you?”
There was no response for a long time, and when he did speak it was no answer. Instead he was met with a question.
“How do you deal with it all? The shame, knowing people died to orks?”
Nestor put his hands in his pockets and turned quiet.
Well, wasn’t that one warp of a question. Deal with the knowledge orks had killed humans for thousands of years, but humans had also killed orks since the moment their two species crossed paths. Those thoughts had stopped running through his mind a while after he had teamed up with Taktikus. Realizing the greenskins were more than simple animalistic murderers. That there was something more to them.
“The dead are dead, but you’re still alive and have to live for yourself. The past is in the past, all you can do is try to make a better future, a future where orks never kill humans again” he replied. He half expected Yarrick to snap at him again, but this time he seemed to just…wait. Wait and listen . “I know you all think I'm naive, and stupid for wanting to align with orks on a big scale but…I’m trying to make a better future, and I have to at least try. I never thought it would be easy, I always knew there was a high chance I would fail. But I have to at least try ”.
Yarrick let out a light scoff
“Your goals are nothing short of dreams…” he said and tapped his finger on the table while he seemed to think “But I…admire your determination and your hope for a kinder world”.
A kinder world.
By the Emperor if that was not something Nestor yearned for. A kinder word for everyone where it didn’t feel like death and horrors lurked behind every corner. A world where soldiers actually got the provision they needed, the help they needed. That no one would be stuck on some useless backwater planet feeling left behind and alone against the universe like he had felt on Cavernam Tertius…And maybe some praise and recognition would be nice as well.
A kinder world, was that even possible in this existence? Maybe it was too late for them already. Too late to change anything, to save anyone. But still, he would try.
“You could help, you know? Ghazghkull listens to you, maybe you could turn him away a bit more from the Imperium and make him focus on something else?”
That actually got a snort out of the commissar but it seemed to be a mix of disbelief and some kind of sadness more than humor.
“I have no control over him”
“I think you do. More than you realize” he replied. Yarrick didn’t respond so he kept going “He respects you .” He had a feeling Ghazghkull’s emotion might be deeper than that but he chose not to voice it, not wanting to over step or make assumptions (even if he was feeling pretty sure about his hunch).
Yarrick kept looking at the book, not watching the general but it was clear he was not reading what was written.
Nestor looked at his face. It was neutral but in his lone eye he could see that emotions were flowing. He wondered what was going on inside his head, what he was thinking, but he also knew he would never voice them out loud.
Yarrick was not that kind of man to speak that clearly about his own feelings, and if he was or did it would not be to Nestor. That was simply not the kind of relationship they had.
Suddenly he turned his head back towards him and their eyes locked.
“I’ll try”
That was the final response. It left a lot to be desired, but also a lot better than nothing. Nestor gave him a nod at that.
Silence filled the air once agin before Nestor lifted his arms to cross them over his chest instead.
“I do wish for a kinder world” he began. “So why should we stop love?” he chuckled and a sad type of smile adorned his face “I’ve hated people enough for lifetimes, why get rid of what little joy we get in this universe? When I see it, I have to grab it. Love is too rare not to. To precious to just pass you by”
He was being vague, but he could see that Yarrick got what he was hinting at.
“Are you happy? Happy with Taktikus?”
Nestor's smile turned genuine at that.
“I never been happier”
Yarrick didn’t respond for a long time.
“Heretic” he muttered in the end but it didn’t have that normal bite to it.
“No more than you” he replied by reflex and then mentally kicked himself for saying that. That was not the right thing to say when trying to placate the commissar. But with some divine grace so did Yarrick not beat him to death immediately.
“The Emperor would never bless this. He told us to purge the xeno general”
“Things change” he replied with ease “It’s been thousands of years since the Emperor ascended to the throne. Books and dogma are stagnant in the Imperium, the universe is not, life is not, people are not and I think the Emperor is not. I think he would bless this, out of necessity to keep the Imperium safe and help it against greater threats if nothing else.” he cocked his head to the side “We’re trying to keep humanity safe. Isn’t that what matters?”
Yarrick didn’t respond and Nestor didn’t know how, but he was sure he would not get one either so he changed subject.
“By the way of talking to Ghazghkull…Maybe tell him you’re fine? So he won’t beat me to death”
“He would not beat you to death. He would slice you with his klaw most likely” the other man responded before realizing he had taken his wording a bit too literally. “I will. I will talk to him” he then sighed and rubbed his temple “He’s my…” he sighed deeply as if the words about to leave his mouth tasted bitter before he even said them “He’s my grod, my responsibility. He should stay out of your and mine business".
“Speaking about our business" He gave the commissar a grin “Wanna celebrate ascension day? I think I still got amsec lying around my room. My treat”
An apology for being the one who threw the first punch. A peace offering. An olive branch.
“We’re a bit late for that” he replied, in a matter of fact way.
“Maybe you calculated wrong? I have a feeling the Emperor is with us and smiling down on us this day”
Yarrick gave him a long look like he considered him stupid and childish but in the end sighed and started to get up.
“I’m not feeling to blessed at the moment” he responded before giving him a tired smile “But you seem to have more luck with Him at the moment so let's celebrate"
“We can stay in my room if you want to stay away from the greenskins? I can throw out Taktikus”
“Like you could do anything to that ork if he didn’t want to”
“What? I basically got him wrapped around my finger.” he said and twirled his finger in the air for emphasis. “I was the one making the shots during Cavernam Tertius”.
Yarrick just huffed in response saying nothing but it was clear he doubted Nestor’s words. But as he got up from his chair he spoke.
“You don’t have to throw him out. I would like to hear his version of those events”.
Nestor just chuckled as they left the room heading towards his room. Walking side by side.
One person.
Maybe he would be able to help at least one person.