As predicted, ten days later Rolf and Gregor arrived at Vindaree. Being the good-natured man Gregor was, he dropped off Rolf outside the Adeptus Munitorum building in central Vindaree, before heading for the freighter port to the north of the city. Rolf had thanked him heartily and wished Gregor luck in his truckings.

Neither Rolf, nor Gregor knew, that the latter would a week later find out what had happened to the Yarrick family and recognise the face of the one missing member of the family.

However, Rolf was now walking the hallways of the vast Munitorum building. It was an enormous sight. The place was just as big on the inside as the outside, Rolf concluded. The Adeptus Munitorum of Vindaree was a huge gothic-style building, its highest peaks reaching more than five hundred metres into the air. Before Rolf went inside, he stood a while to gawp up at the building, almost wringing his own neck off in the process. The many gargoyles up there looked to him like deamons frozen in motion.

"Nice..." he said silently to himself and went inside.

The main hall was a huge place. The high, arched windows allowed oceans of light to filter in through coloured glass depicting glorious moments in Imperial History. Rolf passed one that showed a great grey wolf battling a gore coloured Chaos Hound, with a broken eagle lying between them. Rolf stopped and studied the fine piece of work for a moment and then walked on.

He was far from alone. People had come from all over Callidus to join the reformed Callidussian 27th. It was a prestigious regiment. Rolf remembered his father had talked a lot about its commander, who apparently was a wise and good man. Rolf couldn't remember any face or name of him right now, but he thought he would see him some day. But now he needed to sign up. But where? He stopped a lean man wearing the uniform of the Callidussian regiment and a peaked cap bearing the insignia Rolf immediately recognised as the 27th. Rolf was taller than the man, who seemed to be in his early forties.

"Excuse me, sir, but where do I sign up?" Rolf asked.

The man looked Rolf over, raised an eyebrow and then smiled. "Right over there, boy." he said, pointing towards a long line of men. "It must be umpteenth time I say that today... But unlike the others, you look promising." The officer studied the sword slung over Rolf's back. "But I'm not sure you'll be allowed to keep that, boy."

"It's all I have got... Thank you, sir." With that, Rolf joined the other young men at the long line.

The officer stood watching him for a while. There was something wrong with the boy, but he couldn't put his finger on what. Rolf was in heads height with the tallest of the other men, and still there was something over him that said he wasn't done growing. The officer watched as Rolf signed up and entered through the door that lead to where they'd be issued their uniforms. As he turned, the officer stared right at the glass picture showing Saint Le'man holding the head of the foul Deamon Karzhan aloft, his sword in his right hand. When the officer saw the sword, he snapped round to look at where Rolf had gone, but the young man was gone from sight.

"When I call your name, you report to Clerk Terh, Clerk Inan, Clerk Ungd or Clerk Ornock here and they will write down your names, birth dates, heights, heritage and other information."

The lieutenant spoke with a clear voice, and Rolf had no trouble hearing him. He was standing in a big yard, still on Munitorum ground, but wearing the green and yellow camouflaged uniform of a Callidussian Guardsman. His sword was still hanging over his back, but it was joined by a lasgun: the Imperial Guardsman's best friend. On his head was a green/yellow "baseball cap". Due to his sword, Rolf felt the looks of the other men burn in his neck. He felt like turning and giving them an acid stare, but refrained from it, knowing it was bad to begin his career by been reprimanded.

"Know also," the lieutenant spoke again. "That some of you will be taken out for NCO training, but only the most promising will actually receive command capabilities, and it will rarely be more than sergeant!

"Alright! Abranh, Adarn, Celi and Drorr!"

The four recruits whose names were Abranh, Adarn, Celi and Drorr moved up and away to the Munitorum clerks. They stood there for a few minutes, the clerks taking down their personal information. Rolf made the silent conclusion that he should've stuck to his old name: Yarrick. Kaleen meant he'd go earlier. Frekk, this would be the first, last and only time he would ever lie. Never again, he promised to himself. Never, ever again!

"Dsurt, Earn, Frigg and Hunt!"

Another four recruits moved up and walked to the clerks. A stocky commissar had joined the clerks now. The first four moved away, towards the billeting they would have while here, chatting. Rolf swallowed. This was not good. They weren't many in this group, just thirty-two.

"Imiak, Isil, Jorunn and Kaleen!"

Rolf closed his eyes, swallowed again and moved up to the clerk. Here goes, he thought.

Commissar Hendrik Irwin wasn't a big man. He was a short, squat figure with dark brown, almost black hair and dark eyes. He was in his mid-thirties, but he was already rounding out around the waist, the results of five years of staff service and good living. His colleagues, not to mention the Commissar General, often joked about his well-fed state, but Irwin knew they weren't meaning any evil with it. But there was one thing he couldn't stand; the heat, the inexorable heat of Callidus in the summertime. All other commissars complained about what the heat did with them and their black uniforms, most doing the highly undignified move of removing dolman's jacket and undershirt to walk around stripped to the waist in their dress breeches. Most sported scars caused by the foul enemy. With Irwin, it was different; he had scars, of course, but not the body to dare walk around like that. He'd look silly. He'd had a black, bushy moustache until the time he started rounding out, and then his round cheeks had made him seem rather silly with it, so he'd shaved it off. Now he was clean-shaven, like most his comrades.

And then there was that with the sun and his bulk. He was warmer than most people because of his state, and this wasn't improved by the fact that he didn't want to walk around as the other politicos, stripped to the waist. So instead he retreated to his office and the air-conditioning there, which was where he spent most of Callidus summer, when he was here.

Wiping sweat from his face with a white handkerchief, Irwin walked down and out to the forming grounds. He looked at the many groups of Guardsmen to be. They all seemed very promising, but it would take its time to get used to the new faces. He'd been a friend with so many of the other soldiers, in the last forming of the Callidussian 27th. He would miss them all. It was against common rule for commissars to acquaint themselves with Guardsmen, but Irwin didn't care.

He stopped by one of the grounds, resting his back against a wall, which was thrown in shadow. It was a bit cooler, but not much. He watched Lieutenant Kamer call up the names of four young men and they stepped forward, ready to put down their information to the Administratum clerks.

Adarn, that is a good family. Knew his father, Irwin thought.

As Adarn and his three friends moved away, Irwin stepped up to join by the clerks, to just watch what was happening.

He watched the next four sign up. Dsurt was also a fine family. Irwin remembered a very old sergeant in the old 27th. Probably the lad's grandfather, Irwin thought to himself.

Another bunch of young men moved up. Amongst them was a tall, lean tanned man with bluish-black hair. He was carrying a non-regimental sword on his back. Irwin tried to remember something the Commissar General had said about people with bluish-black hair, but he couldn't recall it. Not now. The young man seemed... younger than the rest. Irwin walked up beside the clerk the boy was talking to.

"Name?" the clerk asked coldly.

"Rolf Kaleen," the boy simply replied.

Irwin felt perplexed. "Now there's a contradiction in terms."

The boy named Rolf and the clerk looked at him. "Why so, commissar sir?" the clerk asked.

"Kaleen is a catlike creature, and this boy doesn't seem so feline in his approach. Perhaps lupine. Besides, the kaleen is a cat native to Invas County and I can't recall it as a Callidussian surname at all.

"I think you're lying to us, boy. Tell me your real name." Irwin said softly.

Rolf swallowed hard. Not good. "It's Yarrick, Rolf Yarrick, commissar."

Irwin looked bewildered for a second and then got to senses. "Now you're lying again. Your real name!"

"I'm telling you sir, my name is Rolf Yarrick, first born son of Sergeant Sylvester Yarrick, grand-cousin of Commissar Caspar Yarrick!"

Irwin was taken aback. What in the name of the Throne would bring a Yarrick here? Of course, the lad's father had died just a few months earlier, but still... He had a family, didn't he?

"Come with me boy," Irwin said and gestured Rolf to follow him. "Lieutenant, go on, I take care of this one!" Irwin called over his shoulder. This was truly amazing!

Irwin closed the door to his office behind himself and told Rolf to sit down. Rolf sat down in a chair after removing the sword sheath and the lasgun from his back. He looked patiently at Irwin. Irwin sat down in the chair on the other side of the desk, opposite to Rolf.

"My name, boy, is Imperial Commissar Hendrik Irwin. And I take it you're Trooper Rolf Yarrick, from now on."

"Sir." Rolf couldn't with himself to say more. Irwin was so different from his loving and charismatic grand-cousin. To Rolf, Irwin appeared a bit too young to be as round over the belly as he was.

"Try to relax, I mean no harm, none at all." Irwin said and raised his hands. He removed the cap from his head and tried to wipe the sweat out of his hair. "You're wondering why you're here, right?"

"Yes, sir, I am." Rolf replied, a tad of anxiety in his voice. Irwin heard this and chuckled.

"I said relax... " Irwin said and leaned back in his chair. "Now, the reason I brought you here is you trying to go into the Guard under a false name. It wouldn't have worked long, even if I hadn't caught you. Humph! Never trust clerks and officers to do a commissar's job, that's what I say. Problem with them is that they never question, in any other sense than literally. They do what they do, and naught more. That is why we commissars are, but I believe your grand-cousin already told you this, didn't he?"

"You're testing me, sir. But yes, Uncle Caspar told me." Rolf replied, his voice full of his Invas County dialect. It went in stark contrast to Irwin's flawless Low Gothic.

"Uncle? I thought he was your grand-cousin?"

"He w..." Rolf stopped himself from saying 'was'. "He is, yes, but I refer to him as 'uncle'."

"I see..." Irwin said as he drifted into thoughts. A new Yarrick, eh? But he seemed so young, too young for Guard. "How old are you, Rolf? You can't be over eighteen, that is for sure."

"I'm to be fifteen in a few weeks, sir." Rolf replied truthfully.

"I see... But still you try to join the Guard. Why?"

"I don't want to reply to that, sir, with all due respect."

"Why not?"

Rolf's eyes darkened. "I think you ask too many questions, sir..."

Irwin got up, a slight tone of anger in his voice when he spoke. "I ask as many question as there are needed until you give me a straight answer!"

"And all I say to you, sir, is that you don't want to know!" Rolf snapped.

Irwin stomped round the desk to face Rolf. "Now listen you little-"

In a flash, Rolf had pulled the Yarrickian Sword and aimed its tip towards Irwin's throat. The rotund commissar looked down the glittering length of adamantine, monomolecular-edged steel and swallowed. This wasn't something he'd counted on. But he didn't show his fear to the young boy. That would be stupid.

"This is a capital offence, trooper!" Irwin growled after a moment of silence. "Give me one good reason not to have you drummed and disgraced on the spot!"

"I'd give you two good reasons, commissar sir," Rolf replied, his hand kept steady as he held the sword and Irwin at arm's distance. "One; this here sword could cut your head clean off before you could say 'whizzmagnit'. Two; I am a Yarrick."

"Why does the fact that you're a Yarrick matter, eh?"

"An inquisitor once told me that I was destined for glory and greatness. He also revealed to me that I'm more than human-"

"You're a mutant then!" Irwin snapped, his hand tracing for his holstered bolt pistol. Rolf thrust the sword forward a bit, to encourage Irwin not to do so. Irwin understood and calmed down. "If you're not mutant, then what are you?"

Rolf sheathed his sword and bent close to Irwin's ear. "I'm a half-breed Space Marine," he whispered. "Don't tell anyone."

Irwin looked shocked. "I won't," he said silently. There was a moment of silence between the two. Then Irwin went over to his desk and pulled out a drawer. He picked up a tiny piece of brass and a book. He handed both to Rolf, sticking the pins to Rolf's collar.

"I think the inquisitor was right about you..." Irwin said. "There is something about you, Rolf, that says to me you will go far, very far. Here, I give you the rank of Sergeant. We need promising young men like you in the Guard. And also take this book. As a sergeant, you'll have to learn how to command your men."

Rolf took the book appreciatively. "Thank you, sir. But, wasn't I too young?"

"Sergeant Yarrick; I may seem like a plump, mid-thirties commissar, but for that, I'm not dumb and in this regiment, I have incredible pull. Things like age can be altered." Irwin smiled. "Now, it's nearly noon, so off you go and acquaint yourself with the men you are to command and eat a good lunch."

Rolf bowed, picked up his gear and left, reading from the book Irwin had handed him.

Irwin sat by his desk for a few minutes before he decided to get up and get something to eat he too. As an officer, he had better rations than the common soldiery, but he didn't feel too sorry for the men. He would enjoy another stodgy meal and then go to rest a few hours on a couch in his office, only to be awoken from his afterdinner nap by the unfeeling slap of his immediate superior; the Commissar General himself, being not-so-happy over his indolent comrade-in-arms.

Rolf progressed quickly. He found many new friends in the company he served with and they seemed oblivious to the fact that he now was their sergeant. But what happened a week later, he could never believed. He was drilling a unit of Guard, when he saw Commissar Irwin watching. Rolf ignored him, and kept on with his drill. He had to keep focused. As he kept shouting orders to the soldiers, the men following them flawlessly, he remembered what some older Guardsman had said about Irwin. Irwin was the kind of man who had to do everything twice; to be sure he got it right. He wasn't dumb, just leisurely in his ways, never stressing too much, or at all. He had also been told that Irwin wasn't overblessed with imagination, making him a man that used feelings sparingly. Rolf had suffered one of Irwin's few bursts of anger. Irwin would be easy to like, Rolf concluded.

When Rolf finished the drill, Irwin had been joined by Lieutenant Kinal Kamer. Kamer was a tall, tanned man, very much like Rolf himself, but Kamer was brown-haired where Rolf had bluish-black hair and Kamer was also in his early thirties. The yellow/green camouflage uniform of the Callidussian regiments fitted him. The two officers joined the group of Guardsmen Rolf was drilling. Rolf called attention and ripped off a salute.

"At ease, Yarrick. Quite a show there, sergeant," Kamer said, a smile on his lips. His voice had some Invas County dialect left, but not much. "You're the sole man who've progressed as far as you have. Can you explain why?"

Rolf shuffled his feet. "I was given this book by Commissar Irwin, sir. Most interesting."

"Don't give me that!" Irwin snapped, but it was with a smile. "Tell Kamer the truth; your grand-cousin Caspar taught you a great deal of it, right?"

"Sir."

"Now," Irwin said, wiping his brow with the handkerchief. The heat hadn't abated at all these last days. But they were promising rains. "I would like you to meet someone. Come with me sergeant."

As Irwin tried to leave, Kamer gripped him by the arm. "Hendrik, is he really a Yarrick?"

Irwin looked back at the lieutenant. "Yes, he is. If you're in doubt, go to the Munitorum Main Hall, and check the tenth picture window on the left."

With that, Irwin left Kamer to his thoughts.

Rolf followed the short commissar up through the levels of the huge Munitorum building. It was damned luck that the lifts were working, or else Irwin would've had a heart attack. That was something he concluded to himself as he wiped his brow yet again. He had to lose weight.

"Where are we going, sir?" Rolf asked as he followed in tow.

"To someone who I'd like you to meet," Irwin simply replied. The two stepped out of the lift and walked towards a flight of stairs. The lifts didn't go all the way up, and Irwin cursed his commander silently. Why couldn't he have his office on the lower levels?

"Stay here," Irwin panted as they got to the top of the stairs. Rolf sat obediently down on a couch nearby and Irwin approached a door and knocked on it lightly. There was a moment of silence before a voice replied.

"Come in!" It was muffled by the trithwood door, but Irwin knew the tone despite that. He just took a few deep breaths and walked inside, gently closing the door behind himself.

"I hope this is important, Hendrik," Commissar General Amadeus Chomaki growled at his aide. Chomaki was sitting, leant forward, watching the vista-slate. News-sending, Irwin concluded. Chomaki never missed them.

"I think it can wait, sir," Irwin replied, sitting down on a chair, wiping his brow one more time. This was just silly! He HAD to lose weight. The heat was unbearable with the black uniform, but Irwin stoically refused to walk around stripped to the waist... Like for example his commander.

Amadeus Chomaki was a tall man, nearly two metres, in his mid-fifties with grizzled, cropped hair. He was lean and powerful, not letting the fact that he was a general destroy his physique. His face was lean and aquiline, his eyes a light grey in colour, his skin in a lighter shade of the tan that Rolf sported. Irwin knew Chomaki was Callidussian in his heritage, that explaining his skin tone. At the moment he was wearing dress trousers with his immaculately polished jackboots underneath the trousers. Just like most of his breed, he had taken off the black great coat, peaked cap and dolman's jacket, sitting in an armchair in just his white undershirt. There was a print on the shirt, Irwin noticed. He could just make out the text "Suck my...", the rest being lost, luckily perhaps.

"Undignified..." Irwin muttered to himself as he leant as much forward as his lunch would allow him to, catching a glimpse of the news.

The reporter's voice reached him. There were pictures from what seemed like a burnt-out military camp. But the report was from Invas County.

"...The reason to this catastrophic fire is unknown. The Adeptus Arbites are working on it as we speak. There have been rumours of that the Inquisition is involved as well. Once again we must say it: The Imperium has suffered a great loss. The famous Yarrick family's ownings ravaged by a very destructive fire. As far as investigation has gone, twenty-five bodies have been found, of which only four have been identified. Amongst these is the body of retired Imperial Commissar Caspar Yarrick and the be-headed body of a Traitor. The Inquisition has already been here, removing any evidence of the Traitor's presence. Rumours are spreading that the Dark Lord himself have trod this soil, but such thoughts are dismissed as lunacy."

Now they showed the face of a young man. Irwin recognised it at once.

"However, having had a count, not all Yarricks have perished. There is, according to the Arbiters, only one surviving Yarrick left: Rolf Yarrick. There have been no traces of the young man, but if you see him, report to the Adeptus Arbites. It should also be noted, that the famous sword that has passed through the Yarrick family since time immemorial is gone. It is unclear as to who could have taken it, but the facts point to that the missing boy..."

There, Chomaki turned of the vista-slate. "I can't believe it! One of the Imperium's greatest families... Gone!" He leant back in his armchair and sighed. "Can you believe it, Hendrik? Four months ago, I visited Sylvester Yarrick's wife personally, with the bad news her husband had gone. It was the first time in a great while I hugged a woman... And Caspar... Dear old Caspar... My mentor. Gone too! Although he was old, and bound to a wheelchair, he was still my mentor! This was no accident..." Chomaki lapsed into silence. Irwin thought he saw a tear streaking down Chomaki's cheek. "I knew them so well, Hendrik, I knew them so well... And Emperor knows were young Rolf is..." Chomaki looked at his friend for the first time since he'd entered. "You look like a nesting-box, Hendrik. What's the matter?" Chomaki got out of the armchair and strolled over to a tray of drinks he had. He poured himself a shot and knocked it back. Then he looked at Irwin again. "Speak out, man! What's the matter?"

Irwin shook his head and got out of his shocked state. "Nothing..." he lied.

"Oh, well then, want a drink to ease up the digestion, eh? I know you, you eat until your stomach is almost distended, greedy-guts."

"Thanks but no thanks, sir." Irwin replied, ignoring the insult. Chomaki often made fun out Irwin's weight problem and his living. Irwin just had problems regaining from the initial shock. What could he say, how could he put it to Chomaki that the last living Yarrick was waiting outside, with the famous sword on his back?

"There's a boy outside... I'd like you to meet him, sir." Irwin said at final.

"I don't have time to talk to a boy, Hendrik. The reforming is taking up all my time. Besides, have you found a replacement to the first sergeant in Kamer's platoon? We are in need of one." Chomaki said as he toyed a bit with the shot glass in his hand. Should he take another drink?

"That's why I'm here," Irwin replied, unbuttoning his dolman's jacket, giving in to the heat. He unbuttoned it over his chest at least, showing his white undershirt covered in sweat patches. "See, this young man, he's very promising, and I'd like to suggest him as first sergeant for third platoon."

"I thought you said he was just a boy, Hendrik?"

"Ah, see he is. And that is why I want you to meet him, Amadeus."

Chomaki looked nonplussed. Now what? he thought. "Alright, send him in, Hendrik." With that, Chomaki decided to have another shot of whiskey. He was pouring it up as Irwin went outside and told Rolf to come in.

Chomaki had the glass at his lips as he turned and looked straight at the tall, lanky young man with bluish hair next to his chunky second-in-command. What the frekk?

"May I present," Irwin said awkwardly. "Sergeant Rolf Yarrick, along with the Yarrickian sword, my suggestion for third platoon's new first sergeant." Irwin indicated the sword on Rolf's back. Chomaki said nothing.

His shot glass hit the floor and was split into a thousand pieces.