《Corruption Redeems. [UNOFFICIAL Warhammer 40K Isekai/LitRPG]》Chapter 16: If grim dark is what I get, then grim dark is what I shall become.

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I scrambled to my feet as quickly as I could, making sure I made the sign of the Aquila as I did. As I made eye contact with the Commissar I noticed how old he was. His face was a mask of wrinkles and old scars, his skin was greying and his hands looked crooked and gnarly. But he had a gaze of sharp steel and right now his entire focus was centered on me.

"Ave Imperator, Commissar!" I quickly said. "I have been indisposed on account of serious injury, but since receiving the attention of a Medicae* I find myself once more able to perform my duties in the name of the Emperor!"

Sure, I was laying it on a bit thick, but the Commissars knew the power they wielded and the fear it inspired in the men around them. In any case, I would rather be accused of embellishing the truth a bit, than of trying to shirk my Imperial duties.

The Commissar narrowed his eyes in suspicion. This was not his first rodeo. "Why have you not reported to your company commander?" The question was fired at me like a bolt, but I had my answer ready. "My power packs were almost all used up, Commissar, and I had to charge them back up before I could be of proper use in combat. I wished to report back for duty, ready to take on my responsibilities from the moment I stood in front of my commander." Shit, I just hoped it was good enough to avoid a firing squad.

The grizzled old Commissar stared me down for a few seconds as if trying to recall my face before he spoke again. "I remember you from the initial charge into the hive. You rallied the troops around you and pushed the objective, allowing us to gain a foothold."

I recalled a Commissar stopping, actually stopping, during the charge into the city, to stare at me when I used my rallying ability, "To me brothers". I had been worried back then, and now those worries returned with a vengeance, as it dawned on me that an overzealous Commissar would execute me on principle. I couldn't be an unsanctioned psyker if I was dead. A crude, yet extremely pragmatic and effective way of looking at things.

The Commissar continued staring me down for what felt like an eternity and I saw his pistol hand twitch several times as if he was fighting an instinct to blast my body into a pile of goo on the ground. Finally, he spoke again, "We will meet again trooper, and soon at that. Do not die in the meantime. The Emperor has a glorious death planned for you!" With that, he spun on his heel and walked away at a brisk pace, making his retinue jog to keep up with him.

It wasn't until he walked away that I noticed the slender, red-haired woman that followed him, and the only reason I noticed her was on account of her turning her head back to me and winking as she walked away. It was the mysterious woman who, for lack of a better word, used me, though I must admit I do not mind in the slightest... Not counting the lung damage, of course. But what struck me was not the fact that she was here, but the fact that she was wearing the uniform of a high-ranking member of the Ordo Hereticus.**

I slowly exhaled as I watched them disappear in the distance and I noticed my hands trembling from suppressed fear of dying. I needed to find a way out of the PDF, and fast. Every interaction with anyone above the rank and file soldiers was potentially dangerous for me. My knowledge of this universe was not complete, nor perfect, and eventually, I WOULD slip up on something rudimentary which would cause enough suspicion about me to grant me a very swift execution, maybe with a bit of extreme torture and mind-probing before I died. Add to that the worries of having had a romantic encounter with a freaking inquisitor of the Ordo Hereticus I was well and truly fucked.

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I spent the remaining time waiting for my power packs to charge, trying to get my emotions under control. It was becoming too much, I was getting overwhelmed, always on edge, always on the watch, and always mindful of my actions and words. The stress was getting to me. As soon as the first pack was charged I immediately began fiddling with it to give my mind something else to think about. I soon figured out that if I was to turn them into power pack grenades, I would have to use them immediately after changing the settings, as it happened by overloading the pack, rather than change any settings on it, so there went the idea of using them as a black market selling items.

Unless.....

I pushed the thought back, it would have to wait. My power packs were charged and I had no desire to give the commissars any sort of reason to cast more suspicion my way. My rallying of the troops had already made them center their crosshairs on me and the grizzled one that had just talked to me had made it plain that plans were being made that involved me.

With a heavy sigh, I gathered my things and packed my pockets and backpack, found a clean(ish) water source to refill my primary canteen and the ones I had looted as well, double-checked my weapons and equipment, and hurried back to the area where my unit was currently stationed. It took me almost 2 hours to reach the area, as I got lost in the hive on several occasions, These things were not built as hives, to begin with, and the city planning was all but non-existent. When I finally arrived I was greeted with extreme indifference, if not outright hostility. I shouldn't be surprised. The inquisitor that had infiltrated the PDF troopers had been the object of desire for almost every man and many of the women in my unit and seeing her decide on me had been the perfect soil for resentment and envy on their part.

No doubt they had hoped I was dead and gone, thereby making it a possibility that they would be the next lucky pick of what they thought to be a regular trooper like the rest of us. Knowing what I did now, I also realized just how much danger I had been in last night. A single misunderstood word or gesture, the slightest inclination that I was more than a regular trooper with fervorous faith, and she would have killed me with a casual ease that sent shivers down my spine.

I quickly fell into the rhythm of things once more. Guard duty, patrol duty guard duty, rest and refuel, repeat. Throw in the occasional skirmish with hive gangers so drugged up they thought they had a chance against established bulkheads of bunkers and trenches with 3 or 4 fallback positions that left the enemy extremely exposed, should they decide to take the defensive positions given up by us., and probing attacks from the rebellious elements within the hive. It was obvious they were being orchestrated as they never attacked for long or with any commitment, and they never attacked the same target twice. They were either searching for a weak spot or trying to get a sense of our defensive capabilities.

The days passed, I got an occasional kill during the attacks, I waited in a more or less permanent state of stress for the commissars words to come true, and... Nothing happened. And it was slowly tearing me apart. I found myself taking more chances during engagements, I became more snappy and aggressive toward my fellow troopers, and I stopped caring about the people I killed. About the lives they may have lived and the people that might be waiting for them. The waiting was eating away at me, as was the constant lure of psychic powers, but with an Inquisitor around, you would have better luck pissing against a strong wind and hoping to not get wet than you would be finding me using my witchsight,

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I also threw my last 10 skill points into luck, putting it at a very solid,30. With luck like that, I would not have to worry about it for a while and I could focus on my other skills for the next few levels. I also started pilfering supplies with the same enthusiasm as the rest of the soldiers around me, but since alcohol was hard to hide unless you had accomplices, I opted for his second desired item and focused on stealing, looting, pickpocketing, scamming, and pilfering Soylens Viridians to the very best of my ability. It reached a point where I managed 2 bottles of alcohol which I used to barter for an extra backpack to store my loot in. Through trial and error, I had managed to figure out the lock on the room I was in, giving me a safe place to keep said backpack, though I DID pack my bed with it in such a way that it looked like a sleeping person.

After a week, I had 2 days of rest coming up and I decided to go back to the underhive to settle the first part of the greedy doctors deal. It was not hard to find a dozen or so people that wanted to go get drunk in the underhive and as a large group, we would be fairly safe. The ride down was fairly uneventful and mostly silent. The only thing binding all of us together was the uniform, but I had a plan. The others had questioned my backpack, but I had shrugged it off with a comment about needing to trade a few things. I took to the front when we got down and quickly found the same bar as before. Figuring I could use a few friends among the troopers as well as a reputation boost, I walked up to the bar and ordered 6 bottles of amasec, a potent, wine-like alcoholic beverage that was all around popular.

Sure, underhive quality was nothing to write home about, but it smelled infinitely better than the rotgut I had partaken in last time. bringing the bottles down to the tables that had been cleared of drunks and junkies, and pushed together for the group. The smiles on the faces of my fellow troopers told me I had made a good choice in alcohol. "First round is on me!" I declared and put the bottles on the table, helping myself to a hearty swig in the process.

It would still be considered poor quality back home, but if rotgut was underhive standard, then this was indeed a proper wine in comparison. Made from grains, strong enough to use as a firebomb, but quite pleasant in its taste, it was a drink I could get used to drinking. I excused myself after a few minutes and headed for the doctor.

I was stopped by a very bored and very big guard as soon as I got to the door."Where do you think you are going? The doctor is busy!"

"Then you can explain to the grumpy goat why he must continue eating corpse starch when I get better things for him!" I snapped back. I was already done with this whole thing. the doctor had to go. This might only be food, but I could have traded it for other things that would have proven immediately useful to me.

"This grumpy goat would prefer you to show a bit of respect!" Came the voice of the doctor from inside and I pushed the guard aside. "Respect is earned, not given," I stated just to piss him off, and it worked.

"You better be bringing something good for me!" He snapped, and as I opened the backpack, I saw him eying the rations with obvious delight. "At least you know how to listen when given directions, WHICH IS MORE THAN I CAN SAY FOR SOME PEOPLE!" The last words were directed over his shoulder, toward the door. The guard was not in as high favor as he could have wished, it would seem.

"I hope this is a good start, at least?" I said, trying to play to the belief that I had accepted my fate, and he confirmed. "A few more runs like this and I will have to start paying you. I foresee a very profitable partnership between the 2 of us" The doctor declared as he was already munching on a ration bar. I saw no reason to correct him, but If that was how he felt about this situation, I could already think of a few ways to get out of this situation, but that was in the long term. For now, it was all about appearances. "If you say so. Are we done? I have people waiting for me." I asked and after he nodded, I turned around and left immediately.

I quickly made it back to the bar where several more bottles had found the table, and I went by the bar to get another fresh batch before I sat back down. I was greeted with a lot more vigor than initially, proving once more that a small gesture of goodwill combined with some booze was still a good way to worm your way into people's good graces. I was surprised though, that it didn't take more than a few bottles of amasec to change their opinion of me so drastically. I spent the next few hours just having a few drinks and relaxing with the others, and as we packed up to go back topside, I quickly bought 2 extra bottles that were stuffed into my backpack. One of them might have been a more expensive bottle than most of the ones available, and I would be lying if it wasn't to make a good impression on the redhead inquisitorial agent. Dangerous as she was, I had seen her from a different side and I had decided I would enjoy this life while it lasted. I had already beaten the average lifespan of a PDF trooper, so might as well.

And back to the daily routine, I went. On my next trip, I added a power pack I managed to win during gambling. There was a myriad of different games being played in the soldiers' free time, mostly dice or cards, and all the different cultural backgrounds provided by the literal million worlds that made up the Imperium***, provided me with all the excuses I needed to introduce games of my own. Poker quickly gained popularity since many could play at once and it required you to think when playing, a valued trait as it tricked you into forgetting your bleak existence for a few hours, chasing that dopamine rush of winning. What most of the new troopers didn't know, was that in poker, you do not play the cards, but rather the people at the table.

It allowed me to make winnings in Imperial crowns rather than goods for bartering, slowly giving me the need to store the growing sum of money in the bottom of my extra backpack. It also made me worried about thievery and I set about trying to figure out a way to keep things safe. I ended up taking one of my frag grenades and tying the top of the pack to the safety pin before carefully closing the entire thing. Unless you knew it was there, you would never discover the trap before the telltale *PING* as the striker lever activated the chemical delay inside the grenade. At that point, the explosion would be exactly 2 seconds away. The first time I put the whole thing together, I got a new notification.

SKILL GRANTED: IMPROVISED TRAP-MAKING.TIER 1, LEVEL 1.

How interesting. I got a feeling this would be a very useful skill to have. Levelingit would definitely be in my best interest, looking forward. Maybe I could even figure out a way to combine it with my power pack grenades. If only I could figure out a way to make the explosion happen when I wished for it, and not on an overload timer. One morning, after rigging my backpack trap and heading for my designated post, she was there again. Red hair, standard PDF trooper uniform, and a crooked smile on her face, she was standing at the spot where my watch partner would be standing, watching me and waiting.

This was going to be quite an interesting day.

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