Balor was cold as a Drusian. 

The 2nd Gendermes had been carried off the troopship by two shuttles, carrying roughly 5 companies, each with their own associate and auxiliary forces, along with what armor we had. The ride down was shaky, but we landed safely and disembarked in relatively good order. However, as soon as the doors open, I knew I was not built for this weather. I felt like I had stepped into the void of space, except it might have been a mercy, because at least amongst the stars I would not have to breathe in the translucent ice they had the temerity to call oxygen on this world. 

The Colonel awaited with his aides and top Commissars in a Salamander as each individual captain and lieutenant brought their units forth from the shuttles' gaping maws. The starport was small, and luckily for us, merely gathering out of the shuttles brought us to the precipice of it, just before the short highway that led to the city of Batranle. I had my chainsword out, more to make myself visible than anything else, and had my men and women form up and follow until every unit was neatly tucked into formation, our chimeras rolling up right behind me. The sky was grey, but I could see a small sliver of the local sun through the hole our jet engines had ripped through. 

"Reporting for duty, sir!" Sel had announced with a clipped salute after her wave. I had waved back, but quickly sobered up in front of the men. It hurt to look at her, because she was my driver, and I had been bade to present myself in a different fashion. Instead of being allowed to stay in the relative warmth and comfort of the three Chimeras, my injury along with my reputation had given the colonel a fascinating idea. He had suggested that I lead what footsoldiers I had by use of one of the few equines we were granted as a regiment. It was an honor, he had declared to me. Normally I would have quite liked the idea. I was quite a rider from my earlier years, and the warhorse was a beautiful thoroughbred. But the cold and my injury caused half the jerks and clops of the steed to make me ache. And so here I was, the only man in the regiment not on foot or vehicle, directing my men to keep in formation. Private Harmack and Corporal Bickers had been too busy gossiping over some damned thing, but when they saw my gaze they snapped to attention. 

"Move out!" The Colonel said over the Loudhauser. 

An entire regiment moving was not a simple endeavor. There were hundreds of officers and units and thousands of men working in unison to make the small army into a single, moving beast. Cries in a dozen different accents of low-gothic rose up, and men and women stepped to. It was a two mile march to the city proper, and though it was cold as a spurned lover's heart, it did the men and women good. They had been bored after the whole ordeal with the Langeroths had been settled, and the fresh air tasted sweet. Even I felt my spirits raise as we moved on, Morek and Seldon in the Chimera to my left, the first of the three in a short line. I felt eyes on me all around, and the feeling only grew once we reached the immense archway at the cusp of the city. The streets had been cleared, but the civilians flocked to the towering, thick minarets that reminded me of some odd, industrialized beehives. They watched from every window and orifice, some towering above us hundreds of feet. The horse I rode was a trained stallion, and I decided to show off a bit, maneuvering the horse so it raised its legs with an exaggeration, giving own goose step with the men. I heard laughter and whispers even outside my platoon. To the civilians I waved when I could, but periodically I looked back at the men to make sure they were keeping their steps rhythmic and in line. Their eyes were either forward or on myself, looking at me like a dog would wait on its master. I caught the eye of Private Elara, who gave me a smile I had seen before and a subtle wink. The audacity almost caused me to blanch, but she turned away as if ashamed. It was only later from overhearing the troopers talk that I was told Corporal Seldon was giving her a look from over my shoulder that I had not seen. 

The cheers and clatter of the civilians rose, and normally my pride would let me bask in the moment, able to cut through the cold. But my paranoia was rearing its ugly head again, and I felt completely exposed. My reputation, my equine, my incredible looks and fashion sense, I wondered how many of the eyes I felt on my person were looking through the scope of a rifle aimed at my head...