In a colony city of Los Angels there is hidden heresy in the slums of the western continent in the western shore area. Cults that want to rival the great power of the emperor for better reward. That is where I landed. As a priest acolyte I had nothing that would get in my way. Well I had nothing, so let’s say some thing would interfere and so I would have to do something. Nothing to loose just like in the past.

“So boy you are here to be apart of my command branch that a lines these dogs for real war. I see to it that you teach them how to stay close with the emperor.”

He could have addressed my name. That commissar was not the General Governor but he had no right to speak to an envoy, a gift, whatever it may be. But I was a part of the Emperors people, his power entrusted to us. I wondered why I was even sent here and there again? Not a waste it would bring now or then.

“Yes Commissar sir the troop moral will welcome a messenger from the emperor to fight along with them.

Well not bad for my lessons that I learned in the Schola Progenium, it was for the teaching of war machines that deliver the future of who do not grasp for hope have to crate that hope for others. I was a petty officer even though a real position in this army would be the so called Chaplin in this imperial army.

The Commissar was feeling irritated, “I had enough introduction, I would be back in my quarters” He strutted in the field of dust and smog of running military exercises. But left behind Temos only could taste the dust in his mouth uninvited. Only to make a display of the fool he gagged till the dust cleared.

Temos had reached his own room of concrete that in a sense concrete with propaganda posters were the fashion. The room was next to the Chapel with a mere wooden door in separation. Only a podium of wood with wooden benches from a workshop. There was work to be done but it was a task that would require resources and people who would want to.

A man walked in just as dressed as the commissar. He was not as stern but had the posture. He was more approachable to another man who fears consequence. “This is the Chapel, and yet no one uses it at times of rest”, he walked even steps to greet the branch of the regiments religious affairs. “I hope the General Commissar has greeted you well?”

“He has” Temos said in dullness.

The colonel looked about. “This is like your privet area now huh?” he joked to lighten the already bland mood. There was no reaction.
  
The ground started to shake about and faded off, and the colonel’s cheery self was struck by a giant record skip and went on to the next track of troop discipline. “Who is doing battle drills right next to the command? I have some new acquainted business now so I take my own leave and meet again.” He turned to the door with shouts of one man cluttering with more rumbles of earth shaking.

Outside to the distress of men were already wondering why two leman Russ tanks were in a heated drag race as a dare to do it right next to the command center. It was solder fun so even the sergeants know what went on for they were also inside the tank directing the gun crew and driver of the six man squad in the tank. It was comedy, it was tragedy. The colonel busted out the doors as the soldiers guarding it ran and alerted the crowd and all ran back away from the command and into the rest of the drill groups.

“All because the General decided to sleep!” the colonel vented.

Temos in the mean time took things out of his pack, things that reminded himself who he really is. a man that somehow should lead of example of an army through the faith of the Emperor. He should lead himself and his fellow man to glory, without fail. He was scared. Scared that he himself will die, but why so when many of his life was a slow suffering pain of death.

I was born, by whom? And what is my real Identity? My individuality? It is pretty sad to think about it, but much better to live it. In my mind I wondered if I had a different name, a name that would be less cursed.

‘Now what is the fun in that?’

Some one would ask me.