sergeant。
“Hup two three four。 Keep in step； damn you；” the sergeant bellowed。 “I’ll keep the whole
damned lot of you drilling here for another two hours if that’s what it takes to make you keep to
time！”
Larn did not doubt Ferres meant his threat。 Over the last two months the sergeant had repeatedly
shown an inclination to hand out draconian punishments for even the most minor infractions。
Having been on the receiving end of such punishments more than once already； Larn had learned to
dread the sergeant and his idea of discipline。
“Company halt；” Sergeant Ferres yelled at last； hawkish eyes watching to see if any of the
Guardsmen overran their mark。 Then； apparently satisfied that every man had stopped the instant
they heard his order； he yelled again； loudly elongating every syllable of the command。 “Turn to the
left！”
With a sudden clatter of clicking heels the company turned to face their sergeant。 Seeing Ferres
advance purposefully towards them； Larn did his best to keep his shoulders back and his spine
ramrod straight； his eyes staring fixedly ahead as though gazing blindly into the middle distance。 He
knew enough of Sergeant Ferres’ ways by now to know that an inspection would follow
immediately they had finished marching。 Just as he knew Ferres would not be any kinder to the
soldier who failed to pass muster now than he would to anyone whose marching did not meet his
standards。
13
From the corner of his eye Larn saw Sergeant Ferres move to the end of the outer file of
Guardsmen to begin his inspection。 Moving slowly along the line to inspect each man in turn； the
sergeant’s dark eyes darted swiftly up and down； scanning for any flaent； dress or
manner。 At times like these； no matter where in line he stood； it always felt to Larn as though it took
the sergeant forever to reach him。 A slow torturous eternity； spent waiting like the head of a nail to
be struck by the hammer — all the time knowing that； no matter how well he had worked or what
precautions he had taken； the hammer would fall regardless。
Abruptly； still three men away from Larn； the sergeant stopped to turn and face the fair…haired
trooper standing in front of him。 It was Trooper Leden — his favourite target。 Tall and broadshouldered；
with a thick neck and big hands； Leden looked even more the farmboy than the rest of
the men in the company。 Even now； standing to attention under Ferres’ withering glare； Leden’s
face was open and guileless； his mouth looking as though it could break into a warm and friendly
smile at any moment。
“Your lasgun； trooper；” the sergeant said。 “Give it to me。” Then； taking the gun from Leden’s
outstretched hands； he checked the safety； before inspecting the rest of the gun in turn。
“What is the best way for a Guardsmen to prevent his lasgun from failing him in battle？” Ferres
asked； eyes boring into Leden’s face as he spoke。
“I… uh… first he should check the power pack is not empty。 Then； reciting the Litany of
Unjamming； he should…”
“I asked what is the best way to prevent a Guardsman’s lasgun from failing him； Leden；” the
sergeant said； cutting him off。 “Not how he should clear a jam after it malfunctions！”
“Umm…” for a moment Leden seemed stymied； until his eyes lit up with sudden inspiration。
“The Guardsman should clean his lasgun every day； taking care to recite the Litany of Cleanliness
as he…”
“And if； because he has failed in his duty to keep his lasgun clean； the Guardsman finds his
weapon jams in the heat of battle and he cannot fix it？” the sergeant cut him off again。 “What then；
Leden？ How should the Guardsman proceed？”
“He should fix his bayonet to the mounting lugs on his lasgun’s flash suppressor； sergeant； and
use it to defend himself；” Leden replied； an edge of pride to his voice now as though he was sure he
had finally answered one of his sergeant’s questions correctly。
“In the heat of combat？ With the enemy right on top of him？ What if he doesn’t have time to fix
his bayonet； Leden？”
“Then； he should use his lasgun as a club； sergeant。”
“A club you say？” the sergeant asked； suddenly placing both his hands at the end of the lasgun’s
barrel and lifting the butt of the weapon above his head。 “What； he should hold his lasgun above his
head as though it were a bat…stick and he was playing shreev…ball？”
“Oh no； sergeant；” Leden replied mildly； apparently unaware that with every word he was
digging a deeper hole for himself。 “He should hold his lasgun horizontally with his hands widely
spaced as though it were a short…staff and strike the enemy with the butt。”
“Ah； I see；” the sergeant said； bringing the lasgun down and holding it in front of him with his
hands in the positions Leden had indicated。 “And to best disable the enemy； what target should the
Guardsman aim at — the face； the chest； or the gut？”
“The face；” Leden said； an idiot smile on his face； while every other Guardsman in the company
winced inwardly at what they knew was coming。
“I see；” Sergeant Ferres said； bringing the butt of the lasgun up quickly to smash Leden in the
bridge of the nose。 Screaming； a gout of blood geysering from his nose； Leden collapsed to his
knees。
“Get up； Leden；” the sergeant said； tossing the lasgun back to him as Leden shakily rose to his
feet once more。
14
“You aren’t seriously injured。 Much less disabled。 Look on it as a lesson。 Perhaps next time
you’ll remember to clean your lasgun more carefully。 The power node on this one is so filthy；
chances are it’d burn out after a few shots。”
Turning away from Leden； the sergeant resumed his inspection。 Standing three men down the
line； Larn felt weighed down by the expectation of impending disaster。 Ferres is really on the
warpath today； he thought。 There’s no way he’ll let me pass muster。 He’ll find something I’ve done
wrong。 Some little thing。 He always does。 Then； his heart rising in his mouth； Larn saw the sergeant
pause in his slow procession down the line and turn to face him。
“Your lasgun； trooper！” the sergeant said。 Then； as he had done with Leden before him； he
checked the safety before inspecting the rest of the gun in turn。 Sights； barrel； stock； holding lugs —
for long seconds Ferres pored minutely over the lasgun as Larn felt sweat gathering at the back of
his collar。 Next； pressing the release catch Ferres pulled the power pack free to check the contacts
and the cell well were clean。 Then； glowering as he snapped the power pack back into place； Ferres
raised his eyes to look at Larn once more。
“Name and number！” he barked。
“Trooper First Class Larn； Arvin A； sergeant。 Number： eight one five seven six dash three eight
nine dash four seven two dash one！”
“I see。 Then； tell me； Trooper First Class Larn； Arvin A； why did you join the Guard？”
“To defend the Imperium； sergeant。 To serve the Emperor’s will。 To protect humanity from the
alien and the unclean。”
“And how will you do those things； trooper？”
“I will obey orders； sergeant。 I will follow the chain of command。 I will fight the Emperor’s
enemies。 And I will die for my Emperor； if He so wills it。”
“What are your rights as a member of the Imperial Guard？”
“I have no rights； sergeant。 The Guardsman willingly forfeits his rights in return for the glory of
fighting for the just cause of our Immortal Emperor。”
“And why does the Guardsman willingly forfeit his rights？”
“He forfeits them to better serve the Emperor； sergeant。 The Guardsman has no need of rights —
not when he is guided by the infinite wisdom of the Emperor and； through Him； by the divinely
ordained command structure of the Imperial Guard。”
“And if you should meet a man who tells you this things are wrong； Larn？ If you should meet a
man who claims the Guard’s command structure sometimes makes mistakes and needlessly wastes
the lives of the men under its command？”
“Then I will kill him； sergeant。 That is the only way to treat with traitors and dissenters。”
“Hnn。 And if you should hear a man spout heresy； Larn； how will you persuade him of the error
of his ways？”
“I will kill him； sergeant。 That is the only way to treat with the heretic。”
“And if you should meet the xenos？”
“I will kill it； sergeant。 That is the only way to treat with the xenos！”
“Very good； Larn；” the sergeant said to him； tossing Larn’s lasgun back to him before turning to
inspect the next man in line。 “You’re learning。 Perhaps we’ll make a Guardsman of you yet。”
“No bruises； no extra laps； not even a demerit；” Jenks said。 It was an hour later； and Larn sat with
the other men of his fireteam at one of the long tables inside the mess hall as their company waited
for the midday meal to be served。
“You passed muster with flying colours this time； Larnie。 Looks like Old Ferres is starting to
like you。”
“Like me？ I don’t think he likes anyone。” Larn replied。 “Still； I can hardly believe it myself。 The
way he glowers at you； you always think he’s going to put you on report no matter what you do。”
15
“Ah； the sergeant isn’t so bad；” said Hallan； the squad medic； from nearby as he busied himself
putting a dressing on Leden’s damaged nose。 “I mean； granted h