11.05.12 To boldly go
Give us 100 words about a voyage.
The troop transport is little more than a cargo bay fitted out with folding cots. It's packed full of teenagers with blond hair, Cadian accents, battle-worn carapace armor and frightened eyes: the latest group of Whiteshields chosen for graduation to full off-world Guard service. It's the first time any of them have taken their boots off the rocky surface of their homeworld, and it's about to be the first time they enter the Warp. The girl on Iggy's right is reading the relevant Litany aloud from her brand-new Infantryman's Primer. Iggy himself calmly rolls a joint of ses.
She's recited it at least ten times before she notices what he's doing, because one of his elbows brushes her when he lifts it to lick the paper and seal it. "You can't smoke that in here," she tells him in a worried whisper.
"I was gonna go to the head." He shrugs, slips the finished roll-up into his breast pocket and looks at her. She looks down and then back at her Primer. The name on the badge hooktaped to her chest is Burren. Her hair is long and dark, almost brown, pulled back into the tight braid required by Whiteshields uniform regs because it fits beneath a gas mask; at first glance it seems to be parted above her left temple, but on closer look the line of scalp is a scar. Someone wasn't wearing their helmet. He looks away before she starts thinking he's staring at her.
The guy on his left has his Primer out, too - chewing on his lower lip as he flips through the pages, reading one of the speeches printed in the back for inspirational purposes. He's round-faced and rabbitish, and he looks about 12 - peach fuzz on his cheeks and all. Iggy, who has been shaving for a couple of years already, feels proudly old and worldly in comparison. The boy's badge reads "Craye." There was a Craye in Iggy's training squad, but he doesn't ask whether this kid's that one's little brother.
Craye doesn't notice when Iggy rises to his feet, but Burren glances up, looking startled at the sudden movement and scared by - probably everything. Iggy pauses for a half-second, then whispers: "Wanna share this? Follow me in a minute." He's not sure from her expression whether to expect her or not.
He works his way down the aisle with a stream of "excuse me"s and "sorry"s and eventually reaches the head. A couple of people are leaning against the wall smoking lhos, and one person's legs are visible under the partitions of a stall at the far end, kneeling and presumably throwing up. Iggy takes up a spot a couple feet away from the lho-smokers and pulls out his roll-up, although he doesn't light it yet, in case Burren shows up.
"You've got ses?" asks one of them, a tall girl with freckles, sounding jealous and incredulous.
"Yeah."
"Do you have extra you could sell?" asks the other one, just as tall and just as freckled but male. Iggy checks their badges - both Kyler. Twins, then.
"No." This is technically a lie - he has plenty - but he doesn't want to sell it; he's going to want it once they're at the front. "Sorry."
"Ah, well, that's shit for us then, eh," Boy Kyler says philosophically. He and his sister finish up their lho sticks and flip them into the flush tank in the nearest stall. Girl Kyler shoots Iggy a dirty look on the way out. Probably figures he was holding off on lighting his smoke until after they left just so he wouldn't have to share.
Burren brushes past them in the doorway.
"Sorry, I didn't want to go right away," she says apologetically.
"Ah, yeah, they'd think we were fuckin' in here, eh?" She looks like she might get mad for a second, then laughs a little, nervously. "C'mon, let's get this smoked. It'll calm you down, eh?"
"Yeah..." She leans against the wall next to him and watches while he lights up and breathes in deep. "Aren't you scared?"
He shrugs, holding his breath, as he passes her the joint and lighter. He can tell by the look on her face and how red she gets when she inhales, desperately fighting back a cough, that she doesn't do this much. He takes the things back from her and has a second hit, then a third, while she gives into the coughing.
"You okay there?" he asks finally. Her coughing turns into a breathless giggle and she nods. It's some of his mother's very best, his going-away present, and it's already starting to kick in for him - so for her, such an obvious lightweight, it must be pretty good times. He offers her some more and she manages to keep the smoke in longer without dying this time.
They smoke it down without conversation, and she pulls out her pack of lhos, giving one to him as well. It might help cover up the smell of the ses, which will hopefully keep everyone they walk past on their way back to their spots from stopping Iggy and trying to buy the rest of his stash.
"Oh man," Burren says, sinking slowly down to sit on the floor with her lho stick. "I am so high."
He joins her. "Yeah."
She turns her head to look at him. "Are you really not scared?"
He shrugs again. "What of, things trying to kill us? Been there, done that, eh?"
"The Warp, though!"
He thinks about that for a second and then shrugs again. "I'll worry when somebody's head sprouts tentacles, I guess."
"You are so..." She twirls the lho around, searching for a word, and gives up.
By the time they go back to their spots, they're on a first-name basis (hers is Elline). By the time the transport has reached its destination, they're a couple. By their third week on the planet where they're fighting, she's dead. By the time he's in the Inquisition, Iggy has forgotten her name.
Ed. note: "lho sticks" are the canon equivalent of cigarettes, "ses" is our group's fanon equivalent of marijuana, although we decided it's legal on Cadia, so they're not worried about getting in trouble, just getting hassled. Iggy is 15 in this and has been on active duty in the Cadian warzone for a year.
The troop transport is little more than a cargo bay fitted out with folding cots. It's packed full of teenagers with blond hair, Cadian accents, battle-worn carapace armor and frightened eyes: the latest group of Whiteshields chosen for graduation to full off-world Guard service. It's the first time any of them have taken their boots off the rocky surface of their homeworld, and it's about to be the first time they enter the Warp. The girl on Iggy's right is reading the relevant Litany aloud from her brand-new Infantryman's Primer. Iggy himself calmly rolls a joint of ses.
She's recited it at least ten times before she notices what he's doing, because one of his elbows brushes her when he lifts it to lick the paper and seal it. "You can't smoke that in here," she tells him in a worried whisper.
"I was gonna go to the head." He shrugs, slips the finished roll-up into his breast pocket and looks at her. She looks down and then back at her Primer. The name on the badge hooktaped to her chest is Burren. Her hair is long and dark, almost brown, pulled back into the tight braid required by Whiteshields uniform regs because it fits beneath a gas mask; at first glance it seems to be parted above her left temple, but on closer look the line of scalp is a scar. Someone wasn't wearing their helmet. He looks away before she starts thinking he's staring at her.
The guy on his left has his Primer out, too - chewing on his lower lip as he flips through the pages, reading one of the speeches printed in the back for inspirational purposes. He's round-faced and rabbitish, and he looks about 12 - peach fuzz on his cheeks and all. Iggy, who has been shaving for a couple of years already, feels proudly old and worldly in comparison. The boy's badge reads "Craye." There was a Craye in Iggy's training squad, but he doesn't ask whether this kid's that one's little brother.
Craye doesn't notice when Iggy rises to his feet, but Burren glances up, looking startled at the sudden movement and scared by - probably everything. Iggy pauses for a half-second, then whispers: "Wanna share this? Follow me in a minute." He's not sure from her expression whether to expect her or not.
He works his way down the aisle with a stream of "excuse me"s and "sorry"s and eventually reaches the head. A couple of people are leaning against the wall smoking lhos, and one person's legs are visible under the partitions of a stall at the far end, kneeling and presumably throwing up. Iggy takes up a spot a couple feet away from the lho-smokers and pulls out his roll-up, although he doesn't light it yet, in case Burren shows up.
"You've got ses?" asks one of them, a tall girl with freckles, sounding jealous and incredulous.
"Yeah."
"Do you have extra you could sell?" asks the other one, just as tall and just as freckled but male. Iggy checks their badges - both Kyler. Twins, then.
"No." This is technically a lie - he has plenty - but he doesn't want to sell it; he's going to want it once they're at the front. "Sorry."
"Ah, well, that's shit for us then, eh," Boy Kyler says philosophically. He and his sister finish up their lho sticks and flip them into the flush tank in the nearest stall. Girl Kyler shoots Iggy a dirty look on the way out. Probably figures he was holding off on lighting his smoke until after they left just so he wouldn't have to share.
Burren brushes past them in the doorway.
"Sorry, I didn't want to go right away," she says apologetically.
"Ah, yeah, they'd think we were fuckin' in here, eh?" She looks like she might get mad for a second, then laughs a little, nervously. "C'mon, let's get this smoked. It'll calm you down, eh?"
"Yeah..." She leans against the wall next to him and watches while he lights up and breathes in deep. "Aren't you scared?"
He shrugs, holding his breath, as he passes her the joint and lighter. He can tell by the look on her face and how red she gets when she inhales, desperately fighting back a cough, that she doesn't do this much. He takes the things back from her and has a second hit, then a third, while she gives into the coughing.
"You okay there?" he asks finally. Her coughing turns into a breathless giggle and she nods. It's some of his mother's very best, his going-away present, and it's already starting to kick in for him - so for her, such an obvious lightweight, it must be pretty good times. He offers her some more and she manages to keep the smoke in longer without dying this time.
They smoke it down without conversation, and she pulls out her pack of lhos, giving one to him as well. It might help cover up the smell of the ses, which will hopefully keep everyone they walk past on their way back to their spots from stopping Iggy and trying to buy the rest of his stash.
"Oh man," Burren says, sinking slowly down to sit on the floor with her lho stick. "I am so high."
He joins her. "Yeah."
She turns her head to look at him. "Are you really not scared?"
He shrugs again. "What of, things trying to kill us? Been there, done that, eh?"
"The Warp, though!"
He thinks about that for a second and then shrugs again. "I'll worry when somebody's head sprouts tentacles, I guess."
"You are so..." She twirls the lho around, searching for a word, and gives up.
By the time they go back to their spots, they're on a first-name basis (hers is Elline). By the time the transport has reached its destination, they're a couple. By their third week on the planet where they're fighting, she's dead. By the time he's in the Inquisition, Iggy has forgotten her name.
Ed. note: "lho sticks" are the canon equivalent of cigarettes, "ses" is our group's fanon equivalent of marijuana, although we decided it's legal on Cadia, so they're not worried about getting in trouble, just getting hassled. Iggy is 15 in this and has been on active duty in the Cadian warzone for a year.