The TRANSMIT rune went down. A long mont passed.
Then Major Rudolphson's voice crackled through the vox.
"This is Major Rudolphson. State your business."
Kian exhaled. Around him, every soldier in the room did the sa.
Egghead practically shouted into the handset: "Sir! It's us!"
On the other end, Rudolphson's voice jumped an octave. "Egghead?! Where in the Throne's na have you lot been? I had you all written up as dead!"
Kian passed the handset to Egghead, who launched into the full account with barely contained enthusiasm — getting press-ganged up to the Spire, fighting alongside the Ministorum priest against the Rogue Psyker, saving the Hive, getting decorated by the brass.
A pause from the other end.
"…Hold on. You're telling you're all Spire-registered now?"
Egghead nodded so hard he nearly strained sothing. "Yes sir! All of us — full Spire clearance, and every one of us bumped up a rank! But the Lieutenant — Throne, sir, he's sothing else entirely. Promoted three grades, given a Baron's title, a full estate, and a sword that crackles with blue light!"
Silence on the other end. A long, stunned silence. Then:
"Put Lieutenant Voss on."
Egghead held out the handset. Kian took it with a grin.
"Hello, hello, hello — little Rudolphson. How does one properly greet a Baron, do you think~?"
Another silence. The kind so loud you could almost reach through the vox and trace the expression on the other man's face.
Kian waited. Rudolphson said nothing. So Kian filled the void with great solemnity:
"Ah, Rudolphson. My friend. It seems we have… grown apart. We were close, once. Happy, even. But now — now we are incompatible. Different worlds, you and I. This is simply the nature of life, you understand?
One must face reality. Perhaps our paths will cross again soday. Please — don't forget . Mister Rudolphson."
That broke him.
"Say one more word like that and I will kiss your backside with my boot."
A few minutes later, once the theatrics had settled, Rudolphson asked in a flat, serious tone:
"So you've genuinely been given a barony. And bumped to Lieutenant."
"Correct," Kian said. "Speculation paid off. MVP settlent for saving the world."
A sound ca through the vox that was identifiably teeth grinding.
"…Throne take it. I need a mont."
Kian understood completely. It's one thing to worry about a brother. It's another thing entirely to find out he's riding a Land Raider.
He moved on to business.
"Right — so now that I'm a Lieutenant and a peer of the Realm, what happens to my position in the regint? Does my rank carry through?"
Rudolphson shot back: "Did the high command not brief you on your posting when they gave you the honours?"
Kian said no — the senior officers had been busy carving up the credit among themselves. The mont the decorations were handed out, they'd gone straight into a closed-door session and left the honoured parties to work things out for themselves.
"Right. In that case, they probably haven't decided yet. But it'll be one of two arrangents."
Kian asked which two.
"First option: staff posting. Adjutant, regintal scribe, that sort of role. No real command authority, minimal exposure, essentially a title attached to a desk. Easy life.
Second option: field command. A battalion, sa as . Real authority, real responsibility — and a much cleaner path to earning further comndations through operational assignnts."
Kian didn't hesitate. "Second one, obviously. You know what I'm like — I've always lived on the edge of a blade—"
"Spare . You've charged across half a dozen battlefronts. You are not a man who lives carefully.
Getting a field command isn't complicated — you're a titled peer now, requesting a battalion posting is a single conversation. The regint will accommodate. Only issue is, our regint is currently at full establishnt. If you want a battalion, you'll almost certainly be posted to a different unit."
Kian made a noise of displeasure.
"I'd rather stay in our regint. I don't know anyone in another unit."
And it wasn't just familiarity. Rudolphson was an ally. Colonel Leo was an ally. More importantly — both of them were on the sa chain of mutually beneficial arrangents. Kian had, at various points, ensured both n's cooperation through ans that didn't appear in any official record.
Which ant that if Kian ever needed to, say, quietly redirect a portion of the regint's weapons and materiel toward his own purposes, or run a company of Imperial soldiers on an off-book operation — as long as he didn't push things to the point of scandal, both n would look the other way.
That kind of latitude didn't transfer to a new regint with new officers who had no particular reason to trust him.
Kian keyed the handset: "Ask the Colonel if there's a way to keep in our regint. I an it — the people in this regint are genuinely exceptional. Talented, agreeable, excellent company. I'd really hate to leave."
Rudolphson said flatly, "Fine. He's nearby. I'll get him."
A short wait. Then Colonel Leo's voice burst through the vox with the energy of a man who had never once in his life done anything at half-volu:
"BY THE GOLDEN THRONE — Lord Voss~! Remarkable, truly remarkable! A few days out of sight and you've gone and beco a Baron! Your lordship's health and fortune~!"
The Colonel was an old hand at this sort of thing. He pivoted to deference like a man born to it.
The Colonel held no title. Kian did. Whatever informal hierarchy had existed between them before had just reorganised itself around that fact, and Leo understood this with the instincts of a natural survivor.
Kian laid out his request. Colonel Leo responded smoothly:
"Straightforward, my lord — you'll have heard, I'm sure, that several PDF regints were recently… ah… stood down under rather unfortunate circumstances. That's opened up considerable gaps in the order of battle, and replacents will need to be slotted in shortly.
If your lordship wishes to take the First Battalion, I can recomnd my current First Battalion Commander for a Deputy Regintal Commander posting in one of the newly-ford units. That vacates the slot nicely."
Kian raised an eyebrow. "That simple? I'm not putting you in a difficult position?"
"Not at all, not at all~ I would only ask — when the opportunity arises — that your lordship might see fit to make an introduction or two among the other noble houses~"
Kian said that was no problem. He lowered the handset and looked around at the assembled soldiers.
"Right, lads. Here's where we are. You can muster out — honourable discharge, Spire residency, clean papers. Good life. If that's what you want, I'll square it with the Colonel tonight. Down the line, when I've got business operations running up here, there'll be positions available.
Or — you stay in uniform, co into my battalion, earn your ranks properly. There's risk in that. Real risk. But the rewards follow the danger."
The soldiers exchanged glances. Egghead spoke first:
"Boss — any chance our families could get positions at your operation? We'd like to stay in and serve under you."
Kian said that worked fine. He keyed the handset again and spoke to Colonel Leo:
"Colonel — when that outgoing commander takes his new posting, have him take his officers with him. I need the billets cleared for my own people."
The Colonel confird without hesitation, and threw in one month's furlough for all of them — ti to sort personal affairs. By the ti they reported back, the battalion command would be properly vacated and ready.
Leo exchanged a few more pleasantries, then signed off.
Kian looked at the handset and addressed the vox:
"Rudolphson. Anything else to add?"
A sharp click. Channel closed. Done.
Throne take it. Too envious. Too miserable. Nothing left to say.
☆☆☆
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