"I've done many things people would consider scary. I've jumped out of Valkyries, I've charged enemy lines, not knowing if my comrades would follow me, Hel! I've fought daemons! But do you want to know the scariest thing I've faced? Parties. Especially if any rich fucks are present." -Victoria Foxway’s Memoirs of an Einerjr, written M42.032.

M31.004 21:32/Volk, the Volk system/The Royal Palace, Sokarin

I leaned on the balcony railing, in my hand I held my third or fourth glass of amersec. The amersec was nice, it was of such a high quality I didn't have enough taste to distinguish it from other high-brow amersec. But I was sure it was good, after all, it was getting me plenty drunk as I recollected the day's memories.

Early in the morning, I flew on a Valkyrie to Sokarin, or more accurately, The Royal Palace in Sokarin. I was then hurriedly rushed to a room near the top of the massive spire that made up the bulk of the palace where I was given time to finally read the dataslate the Princess had given me on what exactly I was walking into.

It turns out, I was walking into the worst 'promotion' ever, If you could even call it that. My new duty would consist of, and I quote, "Leading from the front to inspire fearlessness and loyalty even in the face of unknowable odds," and, "Accompanying members of the royal family during military operations." What that meant was that I was to be on the front line as much as possible AND spend more time around the Princess.

Great! Absolutely fucking wonderful! I thought at the time, chiding myself for not reading this earlier. I didn't have any time to back out of this now thanks to my procrastination and stupidity.

Even if you did read it earlier, would you have backed out? People died in that battle. You should've died too. some part of me said, You're living on borrowed time. It'd be disrespectful to all the people more worthy of this than you to back out now. Accept this on their behalf. Coward. 

Yeah, I had a bad habit of talking to myself. On some days though, it was the only thing able to motivate me. But once I was done with my little mental pep-talk a servant had come to retrieve me. And after wandering through a maze of corridors we arrived at a dressing room.

Once inside the torturous chamber, a small army of servants threw me into an incredibly formal suit, and, attempted, to cut my hair. I, of course, didn’t let the barber cut my hair, it was too precious to me, and though the barber was a stubborn man and didn’t let up until I pulled the combat knife I habitually carried on me, we agreed to simply ‘tidy it up’.

At the end of all that though I was put in front of a mirror. I hated mirrors, even on a good day, I didn’t like the reminder of how ugly I was. And now, after nearly an hour of dressing up, I looked little better than an ape in a suit.

But, I didn’t voice my opinions, it’d be rude to everyone who tried their best, sadly though there was no way to make garbage beautiful.  And so, I was whisked away once again to the pictcaster-filled studio.

The ceremony itself went fine, the Princess had decided that she should do all the talking. I could only thank the gods that she didn’t have time to ask me to do a speech or something. All I had to do was look at the cameras as she talked her head off with a genuine, almost endearing, enthusiasm.

It was only after the ceremony that I was told that there was a party scheduled. Now, normally I would have declined a social gathering such as this, but if there was anything Lucy had taught me it was that if I ever was offered free food and drink, I should take it, especially if the caterers were anywhere near the royal family.

And so, I found myself leaning on a balcony, amersec in hand, staring at the eternal sunset. 

There was music bleeding from inside, but it was faint enough that it only served as background noise to my thoughts.

Thoughts which were rudely interpreted by the new bane of my existence. 

“Well, well, well, what’s the hero of Volk doing on this balcony all alone?” The Princess said in a way that was as endearing as it was insufferable.

“I’m not much for dancing.” I lied, not breaking eye contact with the sky.

“Oh come on, I think you’d do great.” She said in that eternally optimistic way that ground on my nerves intensely.

“No thank you, I’d rather be out here.”

She hummed in response and we both sat in awkward silence for a minute before she spoke up, “You wanna know why I didn’t have you wear your void armour to the ceremony?” 

Because you’re a rich fuck with more money than sense? I wanted to say, but instead, I just nodded my head, still not looking away from the sky.

“Well a little birdie told me that the troops in Vratanius have been telling stories about you, of course, they don’t know it’s you but they’ve been telling of a stormtrooper whose armour was black with caked blood, and fought like a man possessed.” She told me as I turned to look at her. “Now, normally I wouldn’t believe such ‘ghost stories’ but, I know someone who fits that description perfectly.”

“Me,” I said putting two and two together.

“Mmhm, they’ve been calling you ‘The Ghiest’. And so, to preserve the fear you put into their poor souls, I’ve elected to keep ’The Gheist’ a myth, put no face to it. It makes you scarier.”

“Well, Your Highness-“ I started.

“None of that ‘Your Highness’ bullshit, you’re an Einherjr, hell, you’re the First Einherjr, just call me Freya.” She said, “Please?”

“Ok,” I started cautiously, “Freya, I have to ask, why me?”

“I… don’t get what you mean?” She told me, genuine confusion on her face.

“Why pick me to be your ‘Gheist’?”

“Are you kidding? You hit their lines like a truck! You charged a Charonite Ogryn without a second thought! Pictcasts alone showed you kill at least thirty men in half as many minutes! Hell! You risked being shot by your captain to go get the enemy colours!” She nearly yelled, “Why did you do that last one anyway?”

I thought for a moment before replying, “If I’m to be entirely honest? It wasn’t out of loyalty to Volk. It wasn't out of courage or a need to prove myself, it was…” I paused, trying to sugarcoat the truth, “it was so I could die honourably.”

Freya pursed her lips for a moment, a deep sadness in her eyes at my confession. She was probably rethinking her choice to knight me.

“All warriors wish to end up in Valhalla one day.” She said, trying to give me some plausible deniability. Trying to tell herself that I wasn’t a coward who wanted to die without a plausible reason.

It’s because you’re trash. You don’t deserve to live. Some part of me said. It was right.

We sat there for a few more seconds before Freya broke the silence again, “Would you like a dance?” 

“No, I’m going to get to bed. Thanks though.” I lied, I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight.

“Would you like me to walk you back to your room?” She asked.

“No I’m fine, I can find my way back.”

“How many glasses of amersec have you had?” 

“Uh… only three or four, why?”

“Wow, you really can’t hold your liquor, can you? You know that you’re a terrible liar when you're drunk?” She said while she grabbed my arm, “I’m going to walk you back to your room. You’re not saying no.”

She dragged me off to my room, She was right, I wouldn’t have been able to find my way back, but I didn’t want to admit it.

***

M31.004 18:13/Volk, the Volk system/FOB Tyr

It felt like the entire base had gathered to watch the 2nd Royal Armoured roll into FOB Tyr, and who wouldn't want to watch a hundred Leman Russ Battle Tanks led by half a dozen Baneblades and just as many Hellhammers!

It was a sign of things to come. I was sure of it. We might even take Vrantanius before the year’s end.

“Hey,” I jumped, reaching for my Volkite pistol. I stopped and realized it was Freya. I hadn’t spoken to her since the party two nights prior.

She was in the worn infantry fatigues again, and her long dark brown hair was in a rough ponytail.

“Gods, don’t scare me like that,” I told her.

She grunted noncommittally, “Come on we’ve got a meeting to attend to.” She began to walk towards one of the bunkers which was recently constructed.

“I’m sorry, we?” I asked, following her.

“Yes.” She replied.

“Um, why?” I asked cautiously.

 “You’ll find out when we get there.” She said, a smile evident in her voice.

And so I followed her to the main command bunker, down a few halls that were labyrinthine in their nature, and finally, we arrived at a meeting room.

In the center of the room was a massive holoprojector, idly displaying the royal crest. Only ten people were sitting in the room, one of whom I recognized, Max. He was one of the five Captains present, the rest of the attendees were a single Major and four Colonels.

I let Freya take the seat at the head of the table without a thought. However just before I sat down I was interrupted.

“Would you mind getting me a cuppa?” Freya asked with pleading eyes, before turning back to look at a refreshment table, “Is that cake? Better get me a slice of that too.” She told me, a bit of a smug smile creeping its way into her face.

I paused, halfway seated before complying. This had to be an attempt to humiliate me in front of all of FOB Tyr’s highest staff officers. But Eventually, I returned with two cups of recaf, a slice of the cake Freya had pointed out, and a small ganache tart thingy which looked very good.

“Your Highness,” I addressed her. 

“Oh, uh, thank you.” She responded with a mildly confused look on her face. She then quickly regained her cool before quieting the whispers of the small horde of staff officers. “Ladies, gentlemen, as you all have noticed, the Second Armoured has arrived.” She gestured to a man who certainly looked like he had spent most of the day crammed in a steel box, “This does mean we can engage in stage two of our plan.”

A few murmurs spread, while she paused, “Now, what this means for those of you who were not present during the last meeting is that we are going to take Vrantanius in a swift, concentrated strike.

One of the most important parts of this strike however is that one company from the 1st Airborne will be tasked with taking the city center, including the palace.” She turned to Max as he suddenly realized why he was invited to this meeting. He greened a little before she continued, “Captain Maxim, after observations of the 1st Airborne’s performance, I have concluded that your company is right for the job.” She smiled a little, proudly, “In fact, my confidence in you is so high that I have divided that I, along with my loyal Einherjr, will accompany you personally.”

“Now, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty of it all. Carlson, I want our Marauders to-“She kept talking, but I zoned out. I was going back to the front. With her.

Oh. Oh no.