Turning Point

 Three pairs of eyes collectively flinched at the glare of what might as well have been the sun itself as the boarding hatch cycled open. There would be no respite for those temporarily blinded, barked orders having already prompted the troopers around and behind them to begin pushing their way out into the hangar bay. With muttered curses and sidewards glares they eventually moved out as well to fall in with the rest of the newly arrived guardsmen. New yet anything but fresh. The seemingly random selections of color and camo patterns filtering into the hangar were leftovers; the remnants of decimated regiments brought here for reassignment.

Somewhere at the head of the patchwork crowd of soldiers an officer was hollering out commands and attempting to effect some measure of order. He was a considerably larger than average individual with a crop of dirty blonde hair and one augmentic eye which seemed to radiate his evident dislike for his present assignment in its baleful red glow. One after another he read down a dataslate of regiment names, alphabetically calling out the orphaned troopers into ranks.

‘Diablomunda 21st!’ The officer finally bellowed and the three troopers in black, still rubbing their spurned eyes, glanced in his direction.

‘That’d be us…’ Ario Kaspar grumbled, blinking a few times as his pale eyes finally began to adjust to the flood-lighted hanger. He regarded the officer for a few moments before sharing a look with his companions, another man and a young woman.

Liore Masreka, with a mop of restless platinum blonde and drooped eyes, appeared totally disinterested in anything but resuming the nap she’d been enjoying on the flight in. The other man was distracted in rummaging though his kitpack. A bit heavier in build and with blonde hair to Kaspar’s jet black, Dien von Belloch sported a suit of black carapace armor rather than a flak jacket and fatigues like his companions. The right arm of the suit had been removed, leaving the black metal of his augmentic arm to fend for itself. Belloch finally looked up as he produced a pair of sun shades from his pack and slid them down over his eyes with a look of smug satisfaction.

Up front the address was repeated with an intone of impatience and Kaspar gestured his comrades to follow before pushing off through the press of bodies himself. The black shapes wove their way deftly to the head of the crowd and fell in where the officer was indicating. As they approached the red glare of the man’s eye struck them all in turn like a targeting laser.

‘That it?’ The man grunted and Kaspar, at the head of the three Diablomundans snapped to attention and answered.

‘Sir, yes sir!’ He spoke crisply and the officer, now identifiable as a Lieutenant from closer up, sneered down at him.

‘Welcome to the Praedus 44th, you’ll know me as Lieutenant Dross. There will be someone along shortly to figure out just who the heck you are.’ Dross said, finishing with a flash of faux amicability across his weathered features before he continued down the line shouting out more names.