‘I understand,’ said Varens. His anger drained away. He was on a hair trigger. Aggression had kept him alive, able to react quickly, effectively. Such an intense state of readiness didn’t suit a place like this. The whole thing felt surreal to him. How could the medicae understand?

The medicae waved his auspex over Varens. ‘What happened to you?’

‘Flesh wound. Got it fighting Heretic Astartes,’ he said flatly. ‘Don’t know how.’

The medicae wasn’t impressed by Varens’ claim. ‘If that’s the case, you should be dead.’

‘Are you calling me a liar?’ said Varens.

‘I’m calling you lucky.’ The auspex made an angry bleat. ‘The wound is infected.’

‘You don’t say,’ said Varens. ‘If a dozen screening processes hadn’t told me that, the burn in the skin does.’

‘The wound looks nastier than it is. It is not serious – the infection can be treated.’ The green light shone, and the medicae took the auspex away. ‘Main tent.’

‘Emperor, we know. We could do with a little empathy here. Get us inside out of the cold, or we’ll catch our deaths. We’re men, not munitions pallets.’

‘You’re not a man until you’ve been checked and triple cleansed, trooper. Until then, you’re a vector of infection that endangers this whole world. Now, keep your friend under control or we’ll have to give him the ultimate sanction.’

‘We’re here for Guilliman’s mercy,’ said Varens.

The medicae laughed behind his mask. ‘Mercy’s in short supply. Dump your kit, and proceed to decontamination.’

The man was already waving his auspex over the next trooper.

‘A disease vector, is that right?’ called Varens after the medicae. ‘I’d check out trooper Gideon, then.’ He pointed out the other man to the medicae. ‘Bolus and I have been fighting the plague lords for so long, he’s developed a nose for disease.’

Varens helped Bolus put his uniform and equipment onto the right piles, then joined the line of shivering men heading into the tents. None of the auxiliaries were in a good way. Without exception, the naked bodies around Varens bore traces of past disease and trauma. A lot of them had passed this way before, as shown by the way they were lining up and doing what was required without being told, stoic throughout. Varens was cold, strung out and exhausted. Only the discipline instilled in him by the auxilia kept him from snapping, and that was close to wearing out.

He still had space for a smile when he heard Gideon cursing and the auspex binging angrily.

‘Ship lice,’ the medicae said. ‘External parasites, nothing serious, get him into tent three, triple-plus decontamination protocols.’