New World ED

"Underneath this sleeping city

Red eyes filled with rage, not pity

Stalk our dreams with tooth and claw

And crave for human flesh to gnaw"

--From Sabbat's Blood for a Blood God

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The Imperium of Mankind has many lines of defence. In the first one, you find the Adeptus Astartes and their legions of super humans. Right next to them, are the elite trained Sister Sororitas. Both of these two forces are all armed with the finest weaponry and armour the Imperium can offer. However, they are relatively few in number and, as stated, elite forces. They are called to arms against the most vicious of enemies, enemies the likes of the Berzerkers, Eldar and the Hive Mind warriors. These forces always perform at peak efficiency and can be relied on to take out daemons. The Adeptus Astartes and Adeptus Sororitas are used as a delicate scalpel against the enemies of Man, applied exactly as much as needed to break the foe.

They have an utter opposite: the Imperial Guard.

The vast bulk of the Imperial Armed Forces are made up of ordinary men and women. It goes one thousand Imperial Guardsmen on one Sister Sororita and ten thousand Guardsmen on one Space Marine. The Imperial Guard is not elite. They are ground-pounders, dog-soldiers and various other names applied to common infantry. They are not used as a scalpel, but as a sledgehammer. They are the Imperium's true first, last and only line of defence against the alien menace.

The Imperial Guard can come as anything, ranging from Light Infantry to Armoured regiments consistent of nothing but tanks. The Imperial Guard can come as mounted cavalry, light scouts, snipers, tank companies, artillery regiments, heavy infantry and mechanised infantry, to mention some of its guises. The standing Imperial army of Guardsmen numbers over ten billion. Being at such numbers, it is impossible to supply such vast numbers with the same level of weaponry and armour as the Sisters of Battle and the Space Marines. Instead of bolters, the Imperial Guard is supplied with the sturdy and reliable lasgun. Instead of powered armour, they are dressed in flak or carapace armour. Instead of tanks like the Rhinoceros APC, the Predator tank and the dreaded Land Raiders, the Imperial Guard makes do with the Chimera APC and the Leman Russ MBT, not without mentioning the innumerable variants of these two hulls.

The Chimera APC has given birth to several other tanks, amongst them the Hellhound flame tank and the Basilisk mobile artillery piece. There are also almost innumerable Leman Russ variants. Some worth to mention are the Demolisher, the Exterminator, the Vanquisher and the Conqueror. These tanks are all optimised for special field roles. However, they have one thing in common: they're all rugged and reliable constructions, needing little field maintenance.

Something else that marks out the Imperial Guard is that they are the only ones to employ the so-called super-heavy tanks, like the Baneblades and the Stormhammers. The walking giants of the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Titans, can only rival these huge metal beasts in firepower. These are, however, not part of the Imperial Guard, and thus we leave that matter here.

Super-heavy tanks are only ever employed in armies that can trace their heritage to a forge or hive world, like Armageddon or Ronan. These armies might have the resources for such metal beasts, whilst a regiment from Callidus or Bennas aren't very likely to field one in their colours.

To be able to field such vast armies of Guardsmen and tanks, the Imperial Guard has a very rigidly set command system.

To make things easy, we'll start at the top of the chain of a regiment.

Each regiment has a commanding officer, a colonel. It's very rare to find a major in command of a regiment. The colonel and the major of a regiment might split it up between themselves, to simplify command in battle, but it's the colonel who is commander in chief.

Next up are the captains. Each captain has command of a company. Each company is split up in a number of platoons, ranging from three to ten, depending on the size of the regiment. There is, however, no upper limit for the number of companies in a regiment, but ten is a common number.

Each platoon is lead by a lieutenant. The lieutenant has command over three to ten squads of Imperial Guard. In some regiments, like the Icharian, lieutenants are instead called first sergeants, but their positions are the same.

After the lieutenants come the sergeants. Each sergeant is in command of a squad of ten to twenty Imperial Guardsmen. Once again, the numbers vary depending on regimental heritage. The Callidussian Light Infantry regiments, for example, use twenty man squads, whilst the Steel Legions of Armageddon utilize the ten-man system instead, as a Chimera APC only takes twelve men. The sergeant might be accompanied by a corporal in those cases the unit numbers twenty. In some cases, a corporal instead of a sergeant might lead the ten man squads, but this is a rare happening.

Concerning ranks higher than colonel, there are brigadier, general (of various grades) and warmaster. However, these powerful individuals are often in command of regiments from other planets than those they were raised on and warmasters and so-called lord generals are often brought up in the Imperial aristocratic families.

The men and women that make out the absolute top of the Imperial Guard are some of the most powerful individuals in the entire Imperium. But they are also the most vigorously inspected. Should a warmaster fail in his duties, he'll most likely be demoted on the spot, if not executed. By fail, it means that the officer in question allows a large proportion of his army to be destroyed or, even worse, shows heretical behaviour.

The ones to perform these duties are the ever-present Imperial Commissars. The political officers of the Imperium will never consider any warmaster, no matter how talented, more than a potential failure in the most crucial of moments. It is a common saying in the Commissariat that the heat of battle always shows what men and women really are made of. A statement that has been proved on more than one occasion.

This ideology hasn't stopped the Imperium from giving several commissars through history military command over units that they have served with. The result has been trouble in the political wing of the Imperial Guard, as the primary duty for a commissar is to keep track of the unit's commander. The solution has often been to attach supplementary commissars to the regiment or regiments in question.

However, there are times when even the fearful presence of a commissar isn't enough to make Imperial Guardsmen turn to fight the enemy. They are rare, but they do happen. Such a time was when Lord Kevlinn first attacked the Imperium, another when he, in the guise of Kharn, invaded Armageddon together with Ghazghkull Thraka, Ork Warlord.

The most recent of these rare happenings though, was when the Necrons made their first blitz attack upon the Imperium and Metallix went rampant upon humanity. Although, the humans rallied after a while, it had cost them, and it still would cost them. And with most of the Adepta Sororitas gone and the Adeptus Astartes dissolved, the Imperial Guard stood more or less alone...

The day after the punishing Necrontyr attack on Callidus, where the newly arrived Terrans had for the first time encountered the psi-weaponry of the Necrons, Vindaree was already putting itself together again. The meagre population that still inhabited Vindaree had gotten out of their bomb-shelters and were now slowly piecing their home back together again. They had done it before, and would do it again and again and again, until the Necrontyr were either destroyed, or the humans annihilated.

There was one crucial difference between this recent attack, and the other raids. There was no longer anything left of the PDF to be spoken off. Instead, three full regiments of Imperial Guard and two companies of Sisters of Battle had set up camp just outside the badly mauled agri-cultural metropolis.

In the large Administratum building, which was under heavy reconstruction, but still was standing and whole in its basic structure, Commissar General Tanya Yarrick was fruitlessly trying to convince her son Bastion Yarrick about a very crucial, tactical point in Vindaree's and Callidus' defence.

"Bastion, don't you see? These attacks and their results are why I want to station Guardsmen here. The PDF is on its last legs!"

Bastion stopped and looked at his mother. "Mother, we've discussed this I don't know how many times before; the High Council wouldn't allow Imperial Guardsmen to roam the streets. Vindaree is supposed to be a place of peace. It's there to symbolise the Imperium can survive without war-"

"Try to convince an ork about THAT philosophy..." Tanya muttered.

"Mom! I mean it would be very difficult to maintain the image of a peaceful haven with heavily armed guardsmen walking the streets."

"I am not trying to declare a marshal law," Tanya complained, "I just want to post a company or so of guards. To protect the civilians."

"I have said it before, and I'm saying it again; it's no use, mother. The High Council has banned the use, or the carrying, of firearms inside the city-state limits. Not even I can change such a thing without support!"

Tanya glared at her son. "Bastion, I am armed. No one has tried to disarm me since we entered. Is this your idea of safe?"

"They know whom you are, that's why," Bastion replied coolly. "We do check people who enter Vindaree, but your face is so well known, they give a frekk in you, to be blunt."

"What if I was a potential traitor?"

"But you ain't. There's no idea in arguing with me, mother. I said that this is something the High Council has decided."

Tanya sighed heavily as the two started walking again. "Blasted beaurocrats! In the glorious days when the God-Emperor was still around, these things would never have been contemplated. It would never have happened. It would've been ordered out and considered the Emperor's words."

"Mother, you know, as I know, that ever since the Emperor was wounded by the Deamon King, he was more or less bound to that Golden Throne of his. The Imperium was effectively ruled by the High Lords. Our High Council is very similar to the old Imperial rule, right? Just... more democratic."

Tanya sighed again. The two walked in silence for a while, and then Tanya broke it.

"It's just so difficult for me, as a mother, to know that there's nothing I can do to protect you, Bastion."

"I don't think you should worry yourself about that," Bastion said flippantly and produced a short-barrelled las pistol from inside of his coat. "I am more than capable of taking care of myself in a situation."

Tanya idly contemplated the fact that a las pistol wouldn't even scratch the surface of a Necron, but bit back the urge to say this to Bastion. Instead, she smiled wryly and said, "I seem to remember someone saying that weapons weren't allowed inside the city-state limits."

"I am a special circumstance. Being one of the leaders of the council, it makes me quite a target, and I must ensure my own safety, no?" Bastion asked as he put the pistol back inside his coat. "Besides," he added, "what the council doesn't know, won't hurt it."

"Perhaps so..." Tanya said and let her mind wander. She thought of how complicated things had gotten with this 'High Council'. She, as all the other commissars, were used to strict, rapid discipline. She just couldn't take the slow progress of beaurocracy. No commissar could, despite being trained to be political officers. Okay, so she was a political officer, but this wasn't her politics and her way.

"Politics..." Tanya said after a silent moment. "I don't know how you can conduct yourself in them and still keep a trace of dignity... or sanity."

Bastion didn't even glance at her at this remark. "We all have our crosses to bear, mother," he replied flatly.

The two had just passed the door out to a balcony when they heard a loud, crashing noise. Tanya recognised the sound of twisting and splintering concrete after years of city fights. She headed back towards the balcony.

"Speaking of which," she said to Bastion over her shoulder. The young man followed her outside. Tanya stood at the marble railing of the balcony and looked down at the scene below her.

On the building opposite of the large Administratum building, a crew of twenty or so construction workers had been putting a new support column into place with the help of a crane. Thing was, the large concrete column had been to heavy for the crane, and the seven metres high construction machine had toppled over, destroying the column and the crane. Commissar Masterson, who Tanya guessed just had passed by, was taking this opportunity to chew out the foreman and blow some steam.

"Are you people trying to kill someone? And who the frekk put you in charge anyway, you idiot!" Masterson growled. "Anyone can see that that crane is not for this kind of-"

"Masterson!"

"Huh?" The burly commissar looked after the voice that had so rudely cut him off. He saw that it came from Bastion Yarrick, standing together with his mother on a balcony ten metres above his head.

"We've discussed this before," Bastion said clearly, so Masterson wouldn't miss a word, and neither the workers. "I don't appreciate you abusing civilians. You can do whatever Imperial Law permits with soldiers, but hands off the civvies! They're not part of your service area anyway."

Masterson bit back an urge to yell at the youth, glared at Bastion, then the workers and stormed off with a low growl. Up on the balcony, Tanya sighed again. She was getting good at sighing. She done it very often lately, she noticed. Practice makes perfect, she thought darkly.

"I have to get him to take some R and R," she said, meaning Masterson. She was broken from further thoughts by the trilling sound of her communicator.

"This is Commissar General Yarrick, over," she replied.

"Ma'am, the scouts have returned," a voice replied over the vox-link. "Your presence is required."

"I'm on my way," Tanya replied and turned to leave the building. Bastion followed her to the main doors.

"Speaking of R and R," Bastion said and tried to cover a smile.

"Don't start," Tanya warned. "Besides, the senior Imperial Guard officer can't just take time off whenever she pleases, eh?"

"I know, mother, I know," Bastion replied with a soft smile. The smile reminded Tanya about Bastion's father so much. She shrugged off the memory. No time to get romantic now!

At the doors, Tanya raised her hand and made a sign with her fingers, calling the attention of her personal driver. As the staff car drove up to the pair, Bastion looked his mother in the eyes. Tanya thought he'd say something very important, but instead he just smiled again and turned.

"Well, I'd better see to the cleanup," Bastion said as he strolled away.

Tanya looked after him till he'd disappeared upstairs. Then she got into the staff car, which drove her to the Imperial Guard encampment outside the city. She was there in just under half an hour.

As she arrived at the encampment, she saw the Terrans dismounting from a Chimera APC. She didn't take much notice of them, until they'd all gathered in a large meeting tent. She counted the Terran faces over, but realised that McKenzie and the two boys named Edd and Johnny were absent.

"McGranth," Tanya said and turned to the massive form of the Grand Commander, "where's McKenzie?"

"He, Double D and Johnny took a Thunderhawk up to Admiral Ourmnoff's ship some time ago. McKenzie said he needed to perform some kind of private research. At least that's what it said in the message he left to me. I stopped asking what he does a long time ago."

Tanya nodded thoughtfully. "Alright." She turned to the assembled men and women.

"Less than an hour ago, a report came in, telling us that there are still Necron elements active after the battle. Why they haven't phased out, is a mystery. Perhaps that function is offline, I don't know. Anyway, they have managed to enter an older part of the Vindaree subway-system, parts built during the first Imperial Age, perhaps in the times of the 'Safi Yarikk'. However, from these parts, they have access to much newer parts, and thus pose a serious threat. When I got this report, I voxed Bastion Yarrick and ordered him to shut down the subway for the time being, until this taint has been purged.

"Commissar Demontfurt and I have to assist in the reconstruction of Vindaree, as there are Imperial Guard elements active as reconstruction teams. Do you think you can deal with the situation?"

"I'd love to," McGranth said and smiled warmly. "It'll be far better than lounging around here all day. And I believe I talk for all of us, when I say that." A chorus of "Ayes!" was the other Terrans' reply.

"Excellent," Tanya said. "Masterson will accompany you as a guide, so you don't get lost, and Masterson," Tanya said and turned to look Masterson squarely in the eyes, "I want to make it clear that McGranth will be in charge."

"Of course," Masterson replied with a slight nod. He wasn't so stupid he wouldn't defer to a Grand Commander of the Adeptus Astartes.

The collection of Terrans, Charleston, McGranth and Masterson got up to leave. Rolf was the last one out, but Tanya grabbed him by the arm.

"Oh, Rolf," Tanya said and looked Rolf straight in the eyes, "would you please come with me."

Tanya had tried to make it sound more like an order, but this passed Rolf by. "But I am needed in the subways," he said and he shrugged her hand off him.

"McGranth and the others will manage. There is just something I need to discuss with you."

"If you wish," Rolf replied and followed Tanya back to the black staff car and rode with her and Demontfurt back to Vindaree.

In the mean time, Masterson, McGranth, Charleston and the Terrans had taken a pair of Chimera APCs to take them to one of the subway entrances. The entrance was all that remained of the old station; a pitch black hole with concrete stairs and iron railing for those that needed to steady themselves. Masterson handed out flashlights to each one. Eddy, Ed, Charleston, McGranth and Kevin mounted the flashlights on their left forearms, Star Trek style, giving them free hands. Masterson and the four girls mounted their flashlights under the barrel of their weapons, except May, who had to mount it by the side of her flamer, to avoid melting the flashlight when using the flamer.

"This is it," Masterson said flatly as he lead the group down the stairs. "We'll be going into some of the older tunnels, in the outskirts of the city state of Vindaree. There is still electricity down here, but many lamps most surely have died, so that's why we're bringing flashlights. Also, these tunnels might not be in the best overall condition, so watch your step."

Masterson led them down on to the mono-rail track and made way towards where Vindaree should've been, had they not been underground. The tunnels the monorail trains had used were quite wide, so they could walk four in width, Masterson taking the lead. The commissar had been right about the tunnels. There were still lamps hanging a little here and there, but many weren't functioning, or maybe just sizzling with electricity. Parts of the walls had fallen in and earth covered the monorail track in those sections.

Charleston strolled up to one of the walls during their walk and shone his light on it. Different kinds of greenery were growing on the old concrete walls. Charleston idly wondered how they could survive without sunlight. He let his lamp play along the wall as he walked and discovered that the greenery covered inscriptions on the wall. He rubbed some of the slimy, fungus like plants away from one spot and saw what he'd heard Terran street children call a 'tag'. Seems Callidus had had the same problem with children spray-painting walls once. Charleston decided not to worry about the walls any more. If walls wanted to tell a story other than 'Kilroy was here', he doubted it would be these walls.

After about an hour of walking, they came to the next station. As the group got up onto the platform, they saw why they hadn't accessed this station from the ground. The stairs up to the surface had collapsed under the weight of earth that fallen down from above. Most probably the result of Necrontyr shelling. Masterson led them to another track, after having checked a map and counter-checking with his data-slate. They followed the new track for about half an hour and came to a crossing. Excluding the tunnel they just had come out of, there were three tunnels leading from the crossing.

Masterson scratched his chin in thought as he reviewed the data-slate. "Oh, right," he said after a moment. "This is the old construction terminal. The tracks were used for sub-way cars that transported workers, when they were upgrading the underground power network that ran alongside the subway."

"Alright, listen up," McGranth called the others attention. "We'll have to split into groups. Commissar Masterson, Commander Charleston and Lieutenant Commander Ed, you take the right tunnel. Canoness Nazz, you and the three Kanker sisters take the left one. Standard chain of command, you lot, got it? And you two, you're with me."

This last comment was directed to Eddy and Kevin.

"Okay, let's move out," McGranth said and clapped his hand. "And don't forget to cover your backs, right?"

With that, the group split up and headed into the tunnels.

Back in the city, Tanya Yarrick, Imperial Commissar General, sat on a bench on one of the many balconies of the Administratum building, enjoying the view of Vindaree. She loved it. Vindaree was, as far as she was concerned, perfect to rest the eyes on. The colours weren't boring nor were they to glaring. They were just... mild. Comforting for the eye. It was a sight she far to seldom got to enjoy due to her position. She closed her eyes and took in the sweet scents from the trithwood flowers that were blossoming in their pots on the balconies. It was spring now, here on Callidus. She'd been fighting so much lately that she'd forgotten that time had passed. Well, she hadn't really. She'd seen her son grow into a young man during these hard years, and Bastion had been her only measure of time at some passages.

Behind her, Rolf strolled out on the balcony. He marvelled over the sheer scale of the city, but one part of him said he'd seen it before, even more grand. He shrugged the feeling off and walked up next to Tanya.

"You wished to see me, yes?" Rolf asked as he got Tanya's attention.

"Ah, yes," Tanya replied, smiling warmly. "Rolf, please join me." Tanya patted invitingly on the bench.

Rolf sat down. The two sat in silence for a long moment, both enjoying the smells of the trithwood and the sounds from the streets below. Vindaree was slowly recovering, it seemed.

Tanya broke the silence. "Rolf, have you given any though as to what you'll do when this is all over?"

Rolf started. The trithwood had awoken memories inside of him. Strange memories. "When what is over," he asked, dumbfounded.

"The war with the Necrons, of course," Tanya sighed. "What will you do, when it's over?"

"Ah, Rolf understands," he said and relaxed. "You wish me to remain here, yes? With the Imperium in this state, there will be much work to do."

Tanya silently shook her head.

"No, Rolf," she said after a moment of silence. "You're the one who doesn't understand. I don't want you to remain here. I want you to return to Terra with the others of your kind. The other Terrans."

"Now Rolf truly doesn't understand," Rolf said and knitted his brows.

"My place is here, in the Imperium," Tanya said slowly, as if explaining to a child. "However, your place is back on Terra, with your family and loved ones." Tanya saw the change in Rolf's eyes. She was afraid of this, afraid that it would happen. She didn't want the past back...

"But," Rolf said, and Tanya heard the unmistakable Invas County dialect. The Terran youth had had a funny dialect, but not like the Invas County dialect. Not at all. "But, surely a veteran officer as myself would-" Rolf began.

That was it. Tanya cut him off.

"You are not a veteran officer, Rolf. You are a young man, barely in his twenties!"

"I carry the same uniform as you, Tanya. The uniform of the Imperial Commissariat."

"The uniform you're wearing doesn't belong to you. It belongs to Rolf Yarrick, Imperial Hero. A man long since dead!"

Rolf looked Tanya straight in the eyes. "Rolf Yarrick isn't dead. Far from. He lives on in me."

Tanya got up and stood herself before Rolf, placing her hands on his shoulders and looked him straight and squarely in his emerald green eyes.

"Rolf Yarrick does not live on in you. You may possess his memories, but you do not possess his soul. That joined the Emperor long ago. You go into battles with far less experience than you believe yourself to have! This is very dangerous, Rolf! You have been lucky, this far, but some day your lack of experience will catch up on you, and the result will be very tragic."

Rolf got up and shrugged Tanya off himself with ease. He fixed her with a steady, steely gaze. Tanya didn't know quite what to draw from that look. She'd seen it once before, in the eyes of Commissar Masterson. It was calculating, brooding. It had measured her every centimetre. Rolf was doing the same. Measuring her, calculating her. Making sure about something she couldn't put her finger on.

Suddenly, Rolf broke their eye contact. "Enough of this," he said angrily. "I will not listen to this foolishness any longer! You speak of experience and lack thereof? Will I not gain experience after hand, no? Now, there's much for me to prepare for battles to come."

With those words, the young Terran stormed off.

"You put far too much on your own shoulders, Rolf!" Tanya called after him. She believed he hadn't heard. Hadn't wanted to hear. Tanya sighed sadly and sat down on the bench again. She hadn't, however, seen how Commissar Demontfurt had watched them both and watched Rolf as the young Terran had stormed down the hall. The commissar set after Rolf, with a very angry look on his face.

Demontfurt followed Rolf to another, larger balcony. It was large enough to support a group of at least twenty people, with a marble railing and the roof of an adjoining building just to the left of it. Demontfurt walked up behind the youth, who was obviously studying the city very intently. Demontfurt lowered his head a little, so that his peaked cap hooded his eyes when he spoke.

"Are you truly such a fool that you can't see what's happening?"

Rolf turned to face the colonel-commissar, his face contorted by fury. Demontfurt noticed a strange sheen of green in Rolf's eyes.

"How dare you talk to a veteran Imperial Officer in that way?" Rolf snarled.

"No, you are a little a boy," Demontfurt replied, looking straight back into Rolf's eyes. "A little boy who relies on the skills and abilities of a veteran Imperial Officer, a true Imperial Hero, because he doesn't trust in his own ability."

Rolf was just about to make a searing reply when Demontfurt cut him off.

"That's why you haven't been able to fully let go of Commissar General Rolf Yarrick, right? You believe that you need him. You believe you aren't good enough without him!"

Rolf's eyes narrowed. His dark green eyes had turned emerald, Demontfurt noticed. "You dare speak in such a manner to me," Rolf growled.

"And what will you do? It is truly a pitiful creature that must rely on others to fight his battles for him. It reminds me a bit about the Etherdarkers."

Rolf lips parted as he gritted his teeth in fury. Demontfurt noticed how peculiarly long the youth's canines were, but he didn't aim it any longer contemplation.

"Enough of this," Rolf growled. "You don't believe that I have skill? Then I'll show you..."

With one fluid motion, the Yarrickian sword was out of its scabbard and pointed at Demontfurt. Demontfurt swiftly drew the pair of swords he'd been using for a long time back and that he knew well.

"You wish to talk of skill?" Demontfurt mockingly asked as the two circled each other. "I have real skill. I've been training intently in the art of the blade for more than twenty years. I've been utilizing those skills to great success on the field of battle. That is real skill! Perhaps you'll understand better if I give a slight demonstration?"

Rolf didn't wait for the attack that he knew would come. He stabbed in quickly with his sword, but Demontfurt dodged to the left. Bringing his sword round quickly to bring Demontfurt further off-balance, Rolf drove the colonel-commissar backwards step by step. The ring of metal striking metal echoed between the buildings.

Rolf managed to back Demontfurt up against the marble railing and made a horizontal slash against Demontfurt's belly. In one swift motion, taking good use of Rolf's wild swing, Demontfurt jumped backwards and up on the marble-railing and then used it as a base to somersault over Rolf's head.

Demontfurt landed behind the youth, spun round, and brought his left sword against Rolf.

Rolf dodged the sword easily, but he'd forgot about the second one. In a desperate attempt to avoid it, Rolf made an elegant back flip, rolled backwards when he landed and stood up on the far side of the balcony. He faced Demontfurt.

There was a pause and then Rolf brought up his hand to his left cheek. And he wiped away with his hand, he saw the faint red of blood on his black leather gloves. Demontfurt had managed a small cut in his face.

Demontfurt smirked. "So, the legendary warrior is mortal after all. Now do you begin to understand?"

Rolf smirked back. "Fate may smile upon anyone... once."

"Fate?" Demontfurt said and cocked an eyebrow. "Hah! There's no such thing as fate! There's only experience, something that I have and you have not."

Rolf managed a vicious grin. Once again, Demontfurt saw the peculiarly long canines. "I will show you experience, colonel-commissar."

With that, Rolf flew on Demontfurt again. Metal striking metal.

Neither of them could get a clear advantage. Rolf knew now not to underestimate his foe and the same was clear for Demontfurt. However, Rolf had size and reach on his side, not to mention momentum, and drove Demontfurt against the marble railing again. This time, when Demontfurt jumped up on the railing, Rolf was quickly there too, to avoid getting struck at from behind. He'd never do the same mistake twice.

Both of them moved their feet slowly, the slight arch of the railing making it hard to keep one's balance whilst dishing out slashes and parrying the other's blows.

The balcony and its railing was as old as the Administratum building, and one section of the railing suddenly gave way, declaring that it had had enough of this. The two combatants came tumbling down, Demontfurt landing heavily on his feet and Rolf rolling around to avoid hurting himself.

The two picked themselves up quickly and continued with their duel. Demontfurt was pleased to see the seed of frustration on Rolf's face. Rolf was striking as fast as he could, but due to Demontfurt's two swords, the older man always managed to dodge him.

"Rolf doesn't understand why your swords hasn't broken, or even gotten notched, by this sword?" Rolf managed to say during a slight break of blows.

"That's because adamantium swords don't break so easily," Demontfurt replied and lunged at Rolf. He was repelled instantly. Not that he'd counted on that to work.

"Adamantium?" Rolf said silently. That was the same material that his was made of. "Where did you get them?"

"Made them myself actually," Demontfurt said with a pleased smile. "I learned early on to respect the sword. I have dedicated the better part of my life to the study of what is easily the finest of all hand weapons. As part of my mastery of the sword, I learned how to craft them."

Rolf felt perplexed. "But how? Such a thing must've taken decades!"

"Oh, yes," Demontfurt replied. "I trained long to achieve my current skill level. I am currently the best swordsman in the Imperium."

Rolf jumped at Demontfurt again, lunging with his sword. Halfway through, Rolf felt that this wasn't going to work. He saw as in slow motion how Demontfurt parried his sword with his left-hand weapon and slashed at him with his right-hand weapon. Rolf forced himself into ducking back hard and fast; so he wouldn't lose his head, lost his footing instead and nearly fell.

"Tell me then," Demontfurt asked archly, "if you're a veteran Imperial Officer, how does it come that you are held off so easily?"

Something inside of Rolf raged against this blatant insult. He merely managed a bestial snarl and charged Demontfurt head on, forgetting all about skill and grace. Rolf brought round the Yarrickian sword two-handed. Demontfurt blocked it easily with his left and brought his right fist, wrapped around the hilt of the right sword, and punched Rolf straight in the face.

Rolf was knocked to the ground.

"You see?" Demontfurt said as he stood over the prone Rolf. "You can't depend on the skills of another. You must earn your own skills."

Rolf didn't reply, but slowly got to his feet. His eyes were lowered; the peak of the cap covering them, but Demontfurt saw the look of shame on Rolf's face. As Rolf spoke, Demontfurt also saw that the canines seemed more natural now.

"Rolf has been a fool," the young man sighed. "He couldn't see what was happening."

Demontfurt put a hand on Rolf's shoulder. The young man looked up and Demontfurt saw that tears was growing in the corners of Rolf's eyes. Tears of shame. Demontfurt put on a comforting and understanding smile.

"It's alright, Rolf. You're a good fighter none-the-less. You just need a little bit more experience, that's all. Come, I believe we both could use a good rest."

As the two turned to walk off the roof, they heard a weak, cracking noise. The section of marble railing that had given away hadn't fallen down yet and was hanging in front of then, four metres up in the air, slowly loosing itself from its hold. The two men looked in shock-blended horror as the large chunk of marble came loose and fell down on the roof, taking a large section of the roof with it down.

Unluckily, part of the roof that fell in was the place where Demontfurt and Rolf were standing.

The two fell down and landed hard with the back on a large table. The hunk of marble landed on the floor and caved it in, sending up dust and debris in the air.

The two were picking themselves up, slowly, when Tanya and a cadre of Administratum clerks and a few other commissars and officers came running in to see what had caused that racket.

"What the frekk?" Tanya cursed. "What are you doing, Alex?"

"Oh," Demontfurt said meekly, "Rolf and I were just having a bit of a discussion."

Tanya looked up at the hole in the ceiling and then on the large hunk of marble and the caved in floor.

"Discussion on what? House demolition? No wait, I'd rather not know, Alex. I'll just assume that you both need medical attention."

Tanya left to get some medics whilst the other men and women went to get a clean-up troop.

On the table, Demontfurt lay back on the table and looked up at the hole.

"I'm getting too old for this..." he muttered sourly. "You alive still, Rolf?"

"Ouch," was all the answer Alexander Demontfurt got.