The Short Career of Bob.

[Jayce Iredell]

It was late meal hour in the imperial mess aboard the troopship known as the Sober Remorse. Legions of troopers of all levels gathered upon the decks they were assigned, enlisted and NCOs dining on nearly three levels in each section to which their units were assigned.

Over ten thousand pairs of boots sounded to and fro over the deck plating with the rattle and clamber of dishes and utensils. The air was hot and clammy with heat of bodies and steam of freshly steamed rations that had been available to eat; offset by the tepid odor of sweat, and the even more vile cloud of musk from the mixed anthro/humanoid mass. Civilian orderlies attached to the Cohors of infantry that ate in each section went about cleaning trays and clearing spots that had been left unattended.

Milites Bob had been one such unattendee, his meal left for ten minutes untouched as he haddisappeared toward the latrine deck, an orderly had come to clear it, his latex gloved hand reaching out for the tray.

A sharp pain shot through the orderlies knuckles, and he gasped grabbing his hand to check for fingers that may have been removed. The aging dark haired human, in his white kitchen clothes stared at the tall dark vulpine that sat in the chair next to the unattended ration plate, which still lay there steaming.

"Ah ah ah." The seemingly young fox spoke, his voice was aged compared to his look, and he straighted up his back, armor plates shifting as he turned to chastise the orderly.

"But its my job to-" He tried to defend his actions.

"Its your job to shut up, and go clean somewhere else." The Vulpine's red streaked bangs curtained away from his ocular enhancements which were still strapped on over his eyes, and glowing deep gold.

"These rations are mine." He continued, the orderly shuffled away still favoring his hand as the fox pulled the unattended rations closer to himself defensively, he gave the orderly a cross look as he shuffled through the noise ridden mass.

Across from him directly sat a much large and heavily armored wolf, with spikey auburn, almost brown hair. He didn't seem pleased at the other trooper, and cleared his throat.

"That wasn't called for Jayce, you should go and apologize." The High level NCO spoke direct and commanding, correcting the subordinate vulpine with ease and finality. He stared down the fox with a levled gaze, broadening his shoulders to add effect to the order.

Jayce stood up, he didn't look pleased in the least, as he pushed back his chair and his knees uncoiled, staring down at the still sitting Duplicarius.

"He was going to throw out Bob's me-" Trying to explain...

"Thats not the point, the point is, you show respect, you're a legionnaire not a savage." Steel, the NCO responded, giving a gesture with his hand telling the fox to double time it.

The vulpine grit his teeth, flexing his jaw muscles to teeth breaking tension, reaching for Bob's untouched mash potatoes he scooped up a copious amount with a claw and dabbed it on the end of his own nose, before giving a firm salute. Stepping hard on the floor and giving a clean cut slap to his chest for the superior wolf, he turned to walk out.

Everyones eyes were on the altercation until the fresh faced, pale skinned Bob entered the room once more, he was a prematurely balding human about 5'9" in height, his blue eyes shone with excite and dutiful glee. Upon his head he wore a mop bucket of galvanized steel, around his neck was a off white-blue shower curtain of vinyl. Upon his hands were the yellow rubber gloves used by the orderlies (and unfortunate troopers who had been assigned to do so) clean the latrines.

"Gentlemen!" He began, pacing about and eying the crowd of gathered on lookers.

"By order of his holiness glorious inquisition, I hereby have found evidence to condemn this ship and her crew to extermination. For I have found with my superior intellect and keen senses, an artefact of dark and ruinous power!" The Milites continued, his mock parody of the Legate of Agentes in Rebus, was terrible, thought Jayce, but he was amused none the less.

"Behold!" Bob continued to call as he held into the air, a plunger from the latrines. The clear cake of refused backlogged excrement still clinging to its head and shaft. a trail of moisture trickled down toward Bob;s gloved hand as the entire room looked on shocked, amused, and some sickened he would bring it into the mess at all.

"This is a scepter of the most vile of thrones, dipped in the unholy waters beneath the Father of Pestilence and decay himself.." He paused for effect, the entire room looked on in disbelief at the display, some were giggling like schoolgirls at the display, other higher NCOs tried to climb over the bodies to reach him and put a stop to it.

"Nurgle!" He finished with flare and emphasis, the entire room shuddered,many making signs of the aquila upon their chest. Others bowed their heads and plugged their ears beginning to recite catchetisms and prayers.

Jayce could not hold back a snide grin of sheer pleasurable amusement,having been done up by the brazen display. Certainly his rude treatment of the civilian kitchen hand would not nearly be as talked about as Bob's impression of Tiridates, the Imperator's eyes, ears.

It was almost on cue that the broad shouldered and grim faced apparition of the very man appeared in the doorway headed toward poor Bob. Jayce knew what was happening before anyone else even registered his appearance, but interference would be a futile mistake.

"And so you are all now subject to elimination, along with this ves-" Bob's words didn't finished over the echo of a bolt pistol, the .75 self propelled exploding round turning everything above his shoulders into a mist. The wet chaff of bone, sauced grey matter, and spray of blood flew in all directions, the undamaged bucket bouncing off the floor as the body of the dead trooper fell to the floor.

No one groaned or spoke a word about their spoiled food as they stood there in shock, dozens were covered in the remnants of Bob's head,it covered tables, food trays and walls alike. Tiridates turned and kept the bolter raised, the crowd ducked and shuddered as they feared more violent wrath.

"Anyone else foolish enough to mention even the utterance of the name of a warp power, or to make a mockery of his holiness loyal servants, will answer to me." He deemed, the entire crowd silently accepted the declaration as he turned to exit, holstering the side arm that had so ended Bob's short career.

"And Mister Iredell.." the presence commanding Tiridates paused in the doorway, turning over his shoulder.

"Mashed potatoes are for eating, not wearing, clean yourself up." He chastised the vulpine, who let out a grunt, ears folding. Steel could not help but smile at the Sesquiplicarius misfortune of being made the center of attention once again, surely the whole ship would know by the end of the day...

[Arokh Takakura]

Beautifully written, Jayce, and a very enjoyable read.