Meet the Mollitiam

The atmosphere inside the small warband’s patrolling ship is dim, dark, and barely visible. The air is humid and cold, reminiscent of the deepest trench beneath the old Hive World sky-high towers where the girl grew up. Even the slushy smell of the corridors she strides through is reminiscent of those marshy streets.

Sarai takes a deep breath, inhales the stale air, raises the pale-yellow portable lamp higher, and keeps walking. Mysterious shadows dart across the pathway ahead, but she fears nothing. This ship has many corners and turns that can cast all the unknown shadows.

In the past few hours, she had visited an old serf on the other wing of the ship. He was tremendously sick, and his illness was unknown. There was no specific cure for his symptoms, no medical staff, and no apothecary. The only way to end his misery was to kill him, but she did not dare to do it herself. It was better to wait for the Lords’ return. Perhaps Ursus could lend a hand.

She was on her way to her assigned quarter, a corner room at the end of the corridor in the South Wing, which Lord Sergiu had granted to her for her privacy. This quarter was dear to her because it would belong to her alone whenever her roommate was absent. Upon arriving at her personal space, Sarai turned off the portable lamp, hung it on the wall rack near the door, and placed her backpack on the floor. That old, odious serf had given her some of his clothes as a bribe so she would speak with Ursus for him when he returned. In addition to the clothes, he also provided her with some plates, bowls, and old data slates that he claimed contained files and accounts of many stories from Old Terra. She loved the tales of Old Terra; they felt like amusing fairy tales to her, and she thought about reading them aloud with Ursus when he came back, as he could correct her if she mispronounced any words.

Sarai organized the items, folding the old clothes into metal boxes stacked like a drawer in the cupboard beneath the wall rack. She hoped to create a new dress from them and planned to use the leftover patches to make a floor pallet or a new cape with a built-in pocket for her Bear. She quickly finished arranging her things and walked to this quarter’s vast, wall-like window. The outside and inside were equally dark, but as they traveled through Space, the stars and particles outside had shone into the room.

Observing the scenery, she sat on the gigantic mattress that engulfed almost half of this small quarter. Her mattress was bigger than any mattress of the other Lords on this ship; she was certain because she had witnessed one when Lord Sergiu gave her some gifts in his quarter. This bedding furniture was not for everyone; only a few could afford it, and she owed her gratitude to Lord Sergiu.

She switched to lying flat on her back, looking up to the pitch-black ceiling above and watching the lights from Space dance on it. This scene appeared often but not daily because they had to travel through the Warp. Whenever the ship traveled through the Warp, it would be locked down and barricaded with another external barrier, and all its mortal crews and serfs would be positioned in the specific panic room. They would follow strict protocols until the traveling was over. Sarai hated traveling through the Warp but disliked living with the other serfs even more. She found it uncomfortable to spend time with them, and the closer she was to them, the more likely her troubles became.

The girl continued watching the dancing shadowy lights on the ceiling for a while longer before closing her eyes, sighing, and turning onto her side. She faced away from the window, exhaling deeply, and spoke into the room’s darkness where the light couldn’t reach.

“You have arrived?”

There was a short, low-answering growl before the sound of a heavy object dropping echoed in the room. Then, the sound of metal parts and clothes scratched from a person’s movement followed.

“What have you got?”

“Come, take a look.”

Sarai lazily pushed herself up to sit on the bed, smiling softly before walking slowly into the darkness.

“Welcome back, Bear.”

She conversed with the darkness, which transformed into a towering figure whose head was approximately three feet below the high ceiling.

Her eyes were accustomed to the darkness as she saw the pale contours of a skull shape emerging in the gloom. Sarai knew Bear was watching her and was confirmed when he revealed his small eyes, contrasting with the pronounced brow and forehead, firmly fixed on her after he removed his helmet adorned with the skull of an ancient Terran bear-like monster.

“You have not messed up with anyone, have you?”

“Do not speak like I am a child.”

Sarai rolled her eyes. She grabbed the helmet that almost fitted her size and carried it with all her strength before setting it down next to the drawers under the wall rack.

“You smell to high heaven. Take your armor off and shower down.”

“You want to join?”

Sarai glanced at the large bag on the floor by the door but remained silent. She picked up the portable lamp and used it to examine the items inside. A strong, musty odor from the dried blood abruptly assaulted her senses as she pulled open the slipknot. The girl held her breath and examined the contents of the bag. Several complete human leather pieces were folded inside: two white, one yellow, and one black. These weren’t bad; they could be used as the inner lining of the cape she hoped to create for her Bear.

“I am glad you did not bring the head.”

“I know you do not like it, so I gave it to someone else. The skulls on his plate were broken.”

Sarai grinned happily, appreciating that he still remembered. She laid the leather pieces out on the floor, hoping to dry them more before using them; perhaps they needed to be dyed midnight blue, like a costume color. In addition to the leather, she found a few extra items, including battery packs, a small standing mirror, and a metal box covered with soft, silky fabric stained with unknown marks.

“What are these?”

“Those belonged to the owner of the leather. Sergiu mentioned that you might like them.”

Having heard what he said, she tilted her head up to look at him with a questioning expression.

“One of them was not an ordinary folk. His skin was radiant. He had a lot of pretty accessories. Rich.”

“Right.”

Sarai responded. She knew that rich people were a different species to her and probably to him. The rich were not less, but they were rare to find and hard to get close to, at least if she wanted to do it by herself. They were too high to reach.

The girl thoroughly examined the bag before tying it shut and placing it next to the bear-skulled helmet. When she finished and turned back, she noticed that he had removed all the exterior armor. The giant placed or hung each piece of his armor on the opposite side of the door. He then took off the black carapace, revealing the pale, yellowish-white skin beneath before her eyes. His skin appeared paler against the darkness of the room.

Sarai had seen his naked form a hundred times, but each time she turned to watch him put on or take off his armor, she stopped and stared. This time was no different; she continued to gaze at the countless scars scattered across his broad back, resembling an oversized mesh draped over him. These scars marked the connecting points along his spine and key areas of his body, linking the black carapace to his power armor. Those scars made Ursus, whom she called Bear, both frightening and beautiful, highlighting the radiance of the untainted parts of his skin and accentuating the beauty of his muscles, making him look captivating.

“Are you hurt?”

She moved closer. Her small hand brushed against the right side of his torso, just a few inches above his hip bone, drawing Ursus’s attention to her. Although she had accused him of his personal odor, Sarai was already at his side; her face was barely an inch from his skin. Those eyes were the color of a fully ripe olive, looking up from beneath his armpit before her petite lips pressed against the closed cut wound.

“…Sarai,” Ursus softly moaned, but it sounded like a deep, rumbling growl.

“You haven’t answered me,”

The girl presses, transforming a kiss into a playful lick on that wound.

“The bullet. While we were rumbling, someone fired the Heavy Bolter. I tried to dodge and parry, but I couldn’t escape unscathed; one bullet snatched my side.” He was losing his calm demeanor as the ‘urge’ stirred, clouding his usual thoughts.

“Heading up front as always? Mark my words, one day, you might end up dead.”

“I am an Assault member; how can I stay behind?”

Occasionally hearing his satire, she responded with a bite. Of course, a thigh-high mortal girl’s tiny teeth and fangs would not threaten the experienced Astartes. Yet, it was her touch—her touch alone—making him flinch, and his nerves twisted as they sent an electric jolt from his wound to his brain before coursing throughout his body with the rushing blood.

“…Will you…stop biting me?”

“Why? This cannot hurt you anyway. You feel nothing.”

She acted innocently, fully realizing he was aroused.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Ursus swallowed hard, closed his eyes, and tried to steady his breathing. Fortunately, she listened and stepped back.

“Need a company?” she asked with a mischievous smile.

Ursus rolled his eyes, avoiding her gaze. Those who had joined the operation might be using the shower room now; it was better for him to be there alone to prevent any unexpected conflict. “No. It’s faster to go alone. You stay here.”

Listening to him, the girl shrugged her shoulders and threw herself onto the mattress. She lay there, raising both legs up and across while using one foot to wave him a quick goodbye, urging him to return swiftly.