One of the ship's servitors whirred past us as they watched the troops drill. I felt a tinge of sympathy for the men as I watched their red faces and the sweat staining their uniforms. Crispin was working them ragged. I did not want to call the man out publicly. If they knew the Lieutenant disapproved of his methods even by a hair, the men would eat him alive. I decided he might have a small talk with the fellow. There was very little I could not alter with a quick talk, I generally surmised. Though the Langeroth Lieutenant was certainly an exception to the rule. 

"They're already a problem," I confided to Sel, foolishly using a casual and less than austere tone. Luckily there was not many days left en-route, but there was enough for a powder keg to explode if the right (or wrong) circumstances came about. I sighed silently, through my nose, and fixed my hat before I really let my appearance slip. "I think it would be best if you accompanied me daily. I don't believe you are helpless. Nor am I, but together we can make sure to watch each other's backs." 

Admittedly, I mostly wanted an extra pair of eyes to keep myself alive. However, we had only known one another a month and had saved one another's life multiple times. I would like for Corporal Seldon to continue to rough her way through life with her usual, endearing style while I did my best to survive. I heard the clanking zipping of the servitor once again as it made its rounds, and casually turned to regard it, making certain I was not in its path. 

I saw a clawed hand reach for me, and I stumbled back, the metal appendage ripping the hat off my head as I ducked. At the corner of my eye, I saw Sel shoot up, instinctively crouching, then moving toward me. She wouldn't make it, I realized, as a buzzsaw from another arm shot toward my chest. I planted my back foot on the floor, and my sword was in my hand as if I had plucked it out of the warp, shoving the arm aside and riposting in a brilliant move; two flashes of steel and my blade skewered the servitor center mass. I twisted my blade, hoping to ruin enough organic matter and wiring to take it out of action, but it kept coming, trying to bowl me over with its weight as the hand, and a stabbing appendage I surmised was used for screwing on second notice, aimed for my eye. I jerked my body to the side, turning my chainsword on and slicing the arm of the hand off as the drill slipped past my face, cutting a bright red line across my perfect cheek. 

Spinning, my sword leading in the circuit, I cut the main wiring along its spinal cord. The monstrosity began shuddering, but I grit my teeth and pushed on, my chainblade grinding into it, sparks flying and metal snapping, until the servitor spasmed and collapsed onto the floor. 

I stood over the thing, panting softly. It took me a moment to realize Crispin's shouting and the groans of the men had stopped, and I turned to see the entire platoon standing stock still, looking at me. To my left, Sel approached, her gun out but no shots fired. She looked from the servitor to my face. I held my hand up to signify she lower her weapon. 

"Don't damage it. We need to check its synaptics." I said, and it was good she was so close to hear me. The entire platoon roared that moment, rushing over to me in a wave of enthusiasm.