Chapter 19: Free Blade, The End
Taylor crouched beside a small campfire, arranged carefully from stones and dry firewood he'd gathered. Flames licked the air as fresh meat, sliced thick and dripping with fat, cooked slowly over the open fire. With a crude iron rack he'd fashioned himself, Taylor suspended the meat just above the smoke—enough to infuse it with rich aroma without charring it.
The scent was a rare gift in a galaxy ravaged by endless war and metal. Freeblade ate greedily, barely able to tear herself away from the smoky feast.
"I always thought Hive Cities didn't care for cooking," she said between bites, eyes dreamy. "Those enormous metal spires hardly feel like homes. No place for smells like roasting meat."
Taylor smiled, tossing a small twig into the fire. "Still, it's my homeworld. I learned to barbecue during long deployments off-planet. Back then, survival meals were often heated with promethium fuel, though open flames and especially barbecues were strictly forbidden by the Ministry of Military Affairs."
He chuckled, looking upward. "But I'm not one for blind obedience. Truth is, I just don't obey rules that don't make sense to me."
Freeblade smiled knowingly. "You used your wit to win. Just like you said you would."
Taylor nodded, his eyes reflecting the firelight. "Orcs are broken—lost too many men, too much scrap. We're on the verge of victory."
Setting the plates aside, he shared the meal with Elena.
"You really think the Space Marines are coming?" he asked quietly.
Elena nodded solemnly. "Yes—the Emperor's Angels. They'll sweep through the leftovers once we soften the enemy. The Imperial Guard fights frontlines, the Marines handle decapitations of leadership."
"You've bought them the time. Victory's a near certainty."
Taylor shook his head, self-effacing. "I call it luck. Do you believe in that?"
"If the Emperor grants it, then it's your talent," Elena answered without hesitation.
A bitter smile crossed Taylor's lips. "If I rely on gifts too long, I'll fail—and that means death."
She leaned close, lips brushing his cheek softly. "Then tonight…"
Suddenly, Taylor's hand caught hers gently. "We have company."
Elena cursed quietly inwardly. Those damned greenskins—just when she thought she'd found a quiet moment with him.
Taylor lifted his head and peered through his night-vision telescope.
A small patrol was moving nearby—greenskin scouts likely investigating the recent convoy wreck.
The orc main force couldn't be far behind. Losing so many transports must sting terribly.
Taylor tapped his communicator and reported their location. Quick replies of laser fire crackled back.
He sighed and glanced back at Elena.
"Still interested in calm moments with me?"
She exhaled softly. "No. We aren't suited for each other."
"We are both pledged to the Emperor. Bound by duty to keep this vast, dying Empire of Stars running."
Taylor smiled wistfully. "I swore an oath too, but I joined aiming for a better life. If the Empire can't protect its soldiers, it's rotten from the inside out."
"All I do is survive."
His gaze swept across the distant battlefront, where his brothers cleaved through orcs.
"This is my existence—killing the Empire's enemies just to live to fight another day. Nights like this will fill my years until retirement."
"This isn't about honor or glory. It's survival. Nothing more."
"Freeblade… great Imperial Knight… do you understand?"
Elena shook her head slightly. "No. You belong to the Astra Militarum; I come from a feudal knight lineage. Even if we're both exceptional, our worlds are completely different."
She smiled bitterly, as if resigned to a painful truth.
"Is my charm less than that cultist's? I researched after that night… were you truly that clean?"
Taylor met her gaze straight on. "I don't mind. Innocence is all I have left."
Elena puffed her cheeks. "Are you playing innocent? Then continue."
Taylor smirked. "I am a piece of wood."
He stood and walked toward his camp.
Here, Taylor belonged—not in comfort, but in the harsh reality of war.
He dared not promise permanence. Death could come anytime, a coin flipped by the Emperor's will.
As he paced, a sudden thought struck him.
"Why pretend to be cool? Maybe this is my only chance. Must I really remain a virgin forever?"
With a half-mocking grin, he declared, "No. I will finish my service, retire an Imperial veteran, then choose any girl I want."
"Besides, she and I—we're only an illusion. An illusion, nothing more."
Taylor sighed and quickened his steps.
Before him, Ferenstein waited, surrounded by his rugged brothers, all smiling quietly but warmly.
"Boss, that was quick."
"Not quick enough," teased a girl nearby.
Corporal Katie blushed as she handed him an energy drink.
"I heard that kind of energy is hard to come by."
Taylor rapped their heads playfully. "Freeblade and I are comrades—you two are imagining things."
"I'm serious," Taylor added more soberly. "Once the Space Marines begin their encirclement and suppression operations, we'll be leaving. If you know soldiers or civilians here, tell them now."
He smiled wryly. "I'm not heartless. I might even grant vacation time."
Excited chatter filled the air as the rascals began to plot their upcoming leave.
Taylor remained caught between two warm arms.
"I want to try that boiled pork you mentioned, boss," one whispered.
Katie shook her head. "No, next is a tactical seminar. We have to maximize our odds with what we have."
Taylor gently pushed them aside.
"No. I have other matters to attend to."
Muttering quietly, he sought solitude for daydreaming, sleep, and drinking to calm his soul.
The endless fighting and narrow escapes made him long desperately for simple comforts like warm beds and good food.
Yawning, he slipped into his sleeping bag.
Far off in the darkened sky, lights streaked like shooting stars.
Taylor grabbed his telescope once more.
Through it, he saw a towering blue figure wielding a chainsword—power armor gleaming.
A Space Marine. An Ultramarine.
He stood, breath caught.
Rarely did one glimpse such legends battling in person.
Suddenly, a signalman broke the silence.
"Boss! Orders received! Fire support inbound—we're moving into the fight!"
Taylor clenched his jaw.
Maybe in the end, death was inevitable for all of them.