We All Died At Hill 937: A Warhammer 40K Story

Chatper 1: Young Blood

"What are the fire modes for the M-G Short Pattern Lasgun?"

"Sir, the fire modes for the M-G Short Pattern Lasgun are single shot or fully automatic, sir."

"How many shots per minute?"

"Sir, it can fire 220 shots per minute, Sir."

"And if I wanted to see a diagram of the weapon, where can I find it?"

"Sir, you can find a diagram in the The Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer, sir."

Cadet-Commissar Karl Waino stood at attention, his hands at his sides, trying his best to keep his eyes forward. Waino's palms were sweaty as the man before him paced from side to side, his eyes flicking from the window to the deck of the stateroom. The man was imposing. He had seen over a thousand battlefields, and it showed. His body was covered in scars, his face looking as if someone had slashed at his face hundreds of times. Cadet Waino had read about the man's exploits back in the scholam, creating this image in his head of the ultimate war hero so he was more than enthusiastic to be assigned to the man.

Yet it wasn't a surprise. Waino did score near the top of his class. His hard work had paid off and now he was given the opportunity of working with one of the best Commissars in the Segmentum Ultima. Despite working a few months as an aide for the Commissar-General, Cadet Waino was still full of awe every time he spoke to the man. Half of it was out of respect, the other half out of intimidation. Commissar-General MacArthur was everything he expected.

The man was a stern mentor, constantly testing Waino's knowledge on all matters of subjects to make sure he kept up his studies. It happened even at the most random of times, just to keep him on his toes. One moment he would be examining a data slate for munitorum part orders only for the commissar general to appear behind him and start making him recite excerpts from the Tactica Imperium.

However this time it was different. This was no impromptu questioning. This was what the Commissar-General referred to as an oral board on Waino's military knowledge. If he passed, the cadet would get to accompany the elder commissar to the next battlefield, instead of being forced to study on the flagship in orbit. It was exhausting. They'd been at it for the past two hours. The older man looked up, meeting Waino's eyes. Despite being covered in scars, he had a rugged and confident expression to his gaze along with his dark brown eyes and graying black hair. He leaned against his desk.

"Next question, what's Commissariat Article 297? Verbatim? "

Waino narrowed his eyes in thought, his gaze looking past the Commissar-General into the blackness of space outside the window where thousands of stars shone above the brown and gray planet they were stationed over.

"Sir, Commissariat Article 297 is 'by the authority of my rank, and by the terms agreed in Article 297 of the code, I have to inform you your actions in command have been found unsound, and therefore you are hereby removed from command until further notice' Sir."

Commissar General MacArthur nodded his head, satisfied.

"How many times do you think I had to cite that?" he asked.

Waino was about to answer but it turned out to be a rhetorical question.

"I've only had to use it twice. Once when I was a newly commissioned commissar, and once again two weeks before you came onboard. The former was a squad leader during an engagement with a Tyranid swarm. He wanted to retreat from this artillery battery we were required to hold. I relieved him on the spot and later put a bolter round through his head. The latter was a general in charge of the liberation of Zygost from the Archenemy. He was too incompetent."