Zek

[Zadown]

"Gimme one, whatever swill you are serving!"

 

The massive youth frowned at the barely heard question the barkeeper asked and pointed a calloused thumb towards the table he had just vacated. Noise drowned most conversations in the busy pub, but the young man's bellowing cut through it with ease.

 

"No no, the old man there is paying ... what!? Pay now? You distrustful swine, here's your coin!"

 

He threw a demi-throne on the bar with excessive force and walked back to the table, the swift burst of anger dissipating as quickly as it had ignited. It was easy to see war was his business: besides his large size and features that branded him as one of the feral worlders, he was clad in a worn set of Imperial Guard flak armor and accompanied by a rattle of guns and ammo as he walked. There were no visible marks of war on him, however, and it was debatable whether the six ritual scars on his bronze cheeks improved or ruined his appearance. He wore his blond hair short and it would have not been visible at all had the helmet that was on the table been on his head instead.

 

"Now, where were we, elder? You wanted to know how Zek would be able to serve the Emperor, yes?"

 

The man he spoke to had completely unremarkable face and absolutely average clothes, his spoken words so soft they were utterly lost in the chatter of the crowds. Despite that, Zek seemed to be able to discern what the man said and looked thoughtful after listening intently for a while, gave a good scratching to his short stubble of hair before answering.

 

"Well, yes. I'm sure there are a dozen guys with their merc's licence in a place like this, but ex-Guards who know their primers, trustworthy men like me? I've seen the worlds too, I have, gotten through the Warp with my purity intact, and let me tell you a thing - the Emperor's got me covered."

 

Zek nodded to emphasize his point, frowned at something his companion said and then made the sign of aquila.

 

"He has decreed the place and time of my death. One more reason to hire me and not some random rabble - I will not be stopped by any thug or accident. This the priests told me as I stood guard over them on my home world. I was trustworthy as a lad back then and I remain so now that I'm a grown man, and that is why those missionaries taught me things the others of my people, may the Emperor bless their ignorance, have not quite mastered."

 

He drank a long draught of the vile liquid he had bought and managed only a tiny grimace afterwards, the long words obviously parching his throat so badly the horrid taste of the beer was not an issue. His companion said something and Zek nodded, gestured with his mug.

 

"Yes, yes. I know how to use all the weapons a Guardsman should know."

 

Zek patted the lasgun on his back and grinned.

 

"Not just that, either! I can drive, for that is what I ended up doing for the priests before I accompanied them here and were released from my duties. So there you have it, old man, and here you can see my merc licence. Will you hire me now?"