The tall, dark, craggy Chaos Temple rose, like a tall dark and craggy thing that was full of Chaos. I turned to my liege, and considered offering him a bowl of tanna from the thermoflask I kept with me. I could see the bravery burning off him like a fire that burns with bravery. He glanced at me, almost making eye contact but not quite. "Make a door.", he said.
I turned and raised my melta. If the Emperor wanted Cain to tell me to make a door, then a door I must make.
Cain, Emperor bless his bravery and dignity, was resting in the back of the Scorpion, and was getting his much-needed and richly deserved Emperor-given sleep when the Scorpion's auspex started beeping like a thing that beeps a lot. I couldn't see anything yet, so I just kept driving towards the base. Then the auspex began beeping and flashing, so I pressed my Comm-Bead and cleared my throat a few times. It always pained me to wake him when he was resting. "Sir? The auspex is-"
"For Emperor's Sake, Jurgen! I'm trying to sleep!" As I had thought, he was not sleeping for himself, but because the Emperor wanted him to. I made a note to see the Confessor about my transgression, but nevertheless I persisted.
"But the auspe-", was all I could manage before Cain once again showed me the way.
"I don't frakking care! Just get me back to HQ as fast as possible! Let me sleep!" There was a sharp click in my ear. I shrugged and gunned the engine. The auspex was now beeping and flashing quite a lot, as the Emperor had decided it should. As we went over the hill, a line of filthy xenos came into view.
I considered calling Cain again, as he usually likes to know about xenos. But he was resting for the sake of the Empire. I increased the throttle and poured myself some more tanna, spilling a little when the Scorpion's wheels hit the xenos. Warp take them, Cain hates a messy cockpit.
The Commissar was in another meeting with the planet's leaders and the generals. There must have been something wrong with the refreshments, because not long after I had taken my seat by the air duct many of those present began looking ill. After a few minutes, Cain told me that I should wait outside in the fresh air, obviously concerned that I should not catch whatever bug had been going around. So I waited in the corridor and hummed a few hymns to myself.
As the meeting dragged on, I pulled out my IGSI dataslate. It was full of very important Commissar documents and not anything else, especially not anything that might be considered heretical or unprofessional. As I browsed my extensive list of Commissarial documents that in no way depicted anything untoward, I decided that I should know the layout of the headquarters a little better in case Cain wanted some privacy where nobody could see him. I went down the hallway, looking for anyone who could inform me of such a place. Not long afterwords, I came to the desk of the secretary of the planet's overseer. She was very pretty, with blonde hair that looked like it had been combed and lips as red as the makeup she had decided to that day. She also looked rather like a picture I had seen on a data slate that was very important Imperial material not unlike the important Imperial material currently on my dataslate.
I introduced myself, stating rank and position, and she immediately recognized the name of my liege, because everyone does. I asked her where the men's washroom was, and instead of telling me where it was located she asked me if Cain was seeing anyone. I told her that he was in a meeting, and there were many people in there that he was seeing. She laughed, but before I could restate my question from before she said, "I beta big man like you carries a great big gun." I told her that I did, that it was a melta, and that it was very heavy and hot and could punch holes in just about anything.
At hearing this, she asked if I was busy right now, because she knew of a place where we could be alone. I told her that I would rather know the location of the washroom, and just to press the issue further I tapped my dataslate and told her it was very important Imperial Guard business. She told me it was down the hall and to the left. I thanked her, and then she told me that she was off after six and would like to handle my melta after having some dinner with me. I told her that I was the only person who was allowed to touch my melta, and then left for the washroom to see if it met the appropriate specifications for my important Imperial business that in no way broke any regimental bylaws or caused any sort of heresy.