Nolan's fist crashed into Jessica's cheek with the force of a sledgehammer.
The impact sent her sprawling across the metal floor, her body skidding several feet before coming to rest. Her pale skin immediately darkened with bruising, purple spreading across her jaw like spilled ink. Half her face swelled, distorting her features.
Nolan exhaled slowly through his nose. He looked down at the girl sprawled at his feet, his expression cold and unyielding.
"Get up," he said flatly. "Again."
For a moment, nothing. Then movement.
Jessica's black hair fell away from her face, revealing bloodshot eyes burning with determination. She didn't speak, didn't waste breath on complaints or protests. Instead, she adjusted her breathing, found her rhythm, and pushed herself up from the floor with trembling arms.
It took several seconds. Her body shook with the effort, muscles screaming. But she made it to her feet, swaying but upright.
She paused there, taking stock of herself. The pain radiating from her ribs, her jaw, her shoulders, everywhere Nolan had struck her during this brutal training session. And in that pain, she found something unexpected.
Relief. Release.
The physical hurt drove back the memories, the guilt, the endless loop of horror playing behind her eyes. For these brief moments when her body demanded all her attention, her mind could finally rest.
Her brow furrowed with concentration. Then a roar built in her throat, raw and primal.
Jessica clenched her fists and charged.
But she'd only been learning basic hand-to-hand combat for a few days. Her technique was nonexistent, her approach predictable. To someone with Nolan's experience, someone who'd lived through countless simulated battlefields, she might as well have been moving in slow motion.
He didn't even bother to counter-strike.
A simple sidestep took him out of her path. As she rushed past, he placed his palm against her back and pushed, redirecting her momentum.
Jessica went down like a meteor. Her body slammed into the metal floor with a resounding crash that echoed through the training room. The impact drove the air from her lungs in a pained gasp.
She lay there, face-down, breathing hard. Every part of her hurt. Every muscle quivered with exhaustion.
She didn't get up this time.
Seconds passed. Her breathing slowed. The tension drained from her limbs.
Then her eyes drifted closed, and consciousness slipped away.
Nolan watched her for a moment, making sure she was truly down. Then he gestured to the edge of the room.
David stepped forward, blue light pulsing in his optical sensors. He moved to Jessica's side and ran a scan, mechanical eyes analyzing her vital signs.
"My lord," David reported in his synthetic voice. "She has exhausted her energy reserves and fallen unconscious. However, due to her metahuman physiology, her injuries are already beginning to heal. She'll recover fully with rest."
Nolan rolled his shoulders, working out the kinks from the warm-up session. "That's enough for today, then. Her fighting skills are a disaster, but her refusal to quit is worth something." He paused. "How's the medical room coming along? She might need it sooner rather than later."
"Construction was completed overnight," David replied. "The facility is functional, if somewhat basic."
"Good. Let her rest there."
Nolan turned and walked out of the training area, his footsteps echoing in the empty space.
David's metal head swiveled, tracking his departure. Then the automaton looked down at Jessica's unconscious form. She'd started snoring softly, small sounds of deep exhaustion.
"Human," David murmured, his voice barely audible. "You should consider yourself extremely fortunate."
He bent down and lifted her easily with one metal arm, cradling her weight as if she were a child. Then he carried her toward the medical room, his footsteps a steady metallic rhythm against the floor.
In the base's rest quarters, Nolan stood under the shower spray. Hot water cascaded over his shoulders and back, washing away sweat and tension. The temperature was perfect, just shy of scalding.
He found himself humming, some tune he couldn't quite name. The melody drifted from him unconsciously, carried on the steam.
A smile tugged at his lips as he thought about Jessica. She'd come to him in desperation, grasping at straws, looking for any excuse to keep existing. And somehow, through that chance encounter, he'd gained something valuable.
A capable assistant. The first brick in the foundation of something larger.
Jessica's will was stronger than he'd anticipated. The trauma that had broken her also made her adaptable, willing to accept unconventional solutions to her problems. She'd embrace the brutal training because pain gave her focus. She'd follow him into darkness because she'd already been there.
The only real flaw was her youth. She had the impulsiveness and occasional naivety that came with being in her early twenties.
Though her reaction to David had been surprising. Most people would freak out when confronted with a sapient robot. Jessica had simply shrugged, accepted the impossible, and immediately asked if David could help her deal with her credit card debt.
Nolan couldn't help but laugh at the memory.
He finished rinsing, dried off, and pulled on clean clothes. Then he settled cross-legged on the metal bed in his quarters and opened the simulator interface.
His eyes went immediately to the salvage page. The countdown had completed while he'd been training Jessica.
He frowned slightly. Still no sign of a flying vehicle, nothing that would let him reach Kansas quickly and quietly.
But what was there...
[Salvage Harvest: Ancient Gauss Blaster (1 unit)]
Note: Produced by the Necrons. Please stay a moment, human... You appear to have quite the connection with the Necron race.
[Salvage Harvest: Grav-Chute (1 unit)]
Note: Produced by the Elysian Drop Troops. Our mission is simple... fall from the sky and raise hell.
[Salvage Harvest: Kasrkin Stormtrooper Carapace Armor (1 set)]
Note: Produced on Cadia. Soldier, this armor will stay with you through every battle... until you die wearing it.
[Salvage Harvest: Photon Flash Grenades (10 units)]
Note: Produced by the Blood Ravens Chapter. "Who says flashbangs can't kill?" - Captain Alexian, legendary hero of the Blood Ravens, raising one eyebrow.
Nolan's eyes moved between the gauss blaster and the Kasrkin armor. His frown gradually eased.
This salvage had been worth it. Not just worth it, actually valuable.
Kasrkin carapace armor was elite-grade equipment, far superior to standard Guard issue. And a Necron gauss blaster... that was a weapon that could disassemble matter at the molecular level. Terrifying in the right hands.
Still, he didn't lack offensive capabilities right now. What he needed was support equipment, utility items. Transportation, primarily.
The Valkyrie assault carrier remained his white whale. A reliable, proven Imperial Guard transport that could get him anywhere he needed to go.
"Looks like I've exhausted my luck for now," he muttered. "Can't rely entirely on salvage. Time to try simulation again."
He closed the salvage page and took a moment to center himself. His breathing slowed, deepened, became almost meditative.
Then he opened the simulator interface again and whispered a brief prayer to the Emperor.
Time for another dive into the Warhammer universe.
[Simulation starting...]
[Current identities available: Catachan Recruit, Death Korps of Krieg Grenadier, Kashezin Sergeant Major, Letalis Storm Squad Trooper]
[Please select your identity]
[Declining will result in random selection]
[Identity selection declined]
[Simulation starting...]
[You have arrived in the Warhammer Universe]
[Time Period: M41.999]
[Location: Milky Way Galaxy, Ultima Segmentum, Ultramar Sector]
[Planetary designation: Loading...]
[You find yourself lying on a stretcher, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling.]
[Around you, dozens of other stretchers hold wounded soldiers. Their moans and cries fill the air, a chorus of pain. Some call for water. Others call for their mothers. A few simply scream.]
[Medical personnel move between the rows, dressed in blue and white protective suits that cover them from head to toe. They carry auspex devices that they wave over each patient, scanning for injuries. Green light pulses from the scanners, painting the wounded in sickly illumination.]
[You try to sit up, to get your bearings.]
[One of the medical staff notices your movement. He turns toward you immediately, his voice muffled by his fully enclosed mask.]
["Soldier, remain still. Movement may aggravate your injuries."]
[You open your mouth to ask where you are, what happened.]
[The auspex in his hand suddenly emits a harsh, warbling alarm. The sound cuts through the background noise like a siren.]
[The medic's body goes rigid. He stares at the auspex reading, then at you.]
["He's infected!" The medic's shout carries urgency and fear in equal measure. "INFECTED! We need containment, NOW!"]
[Around you, other medical staff freeze. Heads turn in your direction.]
[Then they start moving, fast, reaching for weapons that shouldn't belong in a medical facility.]