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sleepyfan-blog · 8 months ago

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Author’s Note: Cedric’s debut in Space Marine Husbandry Sentience! First and Latest part of Cedric’s 40k adventures. Next fic

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets

Warnings: panic attack

Summary: Cedric wakes up on the forest floor of a world he doesn’t recognize and wanders until he finds people.

Cedric blinked rapidly several times as he stared up at the dense forest canopy he found himself in. The young Astartes slowly got up from where he'd apparently been laid out on the ground as confusion warred with unhappiness within his heart. The last thing that the young apothecary remembered was falling asleep in his bunk on The Sigismund to the sounds of his brothers and squad mates sleeping - and their newest squad mate's snores (he had a deviated septum from when he'd broken his nose in training as a neophyte. It hadn't quite healed correctly and it wasn't worth it to correct the minor defect, especially when there was a good chance that Munse was going to get his nose broken in a brawl and Cedric would re-set his nose properly then). He would have been woken up before being ordered into a drop pod…

Which meant that this must be a dream… Or more likely a nightmare of some kind. He looked carefully for his Brothers, straining his ears for any sounds of enemy fire. He knew who he would see crawling towards him on his hands, legs dead weight dragged behind him, looking up with him at hope that he might be able to save him this time. Sometimes he was even able to save the injured brother within the confines of his own mind, only to wake and realize that it was only a bittersweet dream. Other times he watched as each of his squad mates was hunted down and killed by the Tau, before he was captured - spared because he was a medical professional.

Or maybe he would be subjected to the last cries of the… Many civilians he had tried and failed to help - or who were too far gone for what first aid he could spare them on the battlefield, and to grant them the Emperor's Mercy, in order to avoid a lingering death that risked Temptation by the Ruinous powers, or being captured and tormented by xenos until they died. Either way, this was likely to be a miserable dream - unless… He usually wasn't so aware during his dreams, perhaps he could control things in this dream? Unless he had somehow been translocated from the Sigismund to… Wherever the fuck this forest was. It was sunny, and as he breathed in and out deeply, he could catch the faint scent of woodsmoke on the breeze. He couldn't see the smoke, which meant that he was either too far away from the fire to see even the smoke, the fire was too small, or had recently been put out. Or perhaps a combination of all three.

He looked down at himself, frowning a little. Most of the time in his nightmares he was wearing his full armor - but he was currently wearing what he'd gone to sleep in; his black and red tunic, pants and socks. The ground beneath his socked feet was dark and rich. Cedric hesitated for a moment, trying to decide if he wanted to take his socks off or not. It was unlikely that he was going to find anything in this relatively peaceful-seeming forest. He began to jog at a comfortable pace (after having removed his socks) into the wind, the scent of wood smoke becoming more intense as the day wore on.

A handful of hours later, and Cedric found the source of the smoke - a medium sized cooking fire, surrounded by a dozen or so civilian humans. They were laughing and speaking to one another in a language that the Primaris marine did not recognize. From what he could tell, this was a family group of some kind, as many of them shared similar facial features between the different age groups he could see. There were several older humans - grey and white in their hair with age. Several adults of varying ages, and six… No, seven children all under the age of twelve, laughing and playing with one another.

A deep, aching sense of loneliness threatened to drag Cedric down to his knees, and he was utterly unaware of the distressed whine that escaped his chest as he stared at the clearly joyous group. Their carefree, happy faces. The way that the young ones chased each other around - some sort of sphere made of leather being tossed from child to child.

One of the adults closer to where Cedric was standing and watching them looked over in his direction.

The young Astartes, painfully aware of the transhuman dread that often afflicted the mortals who encountered him, hid behind one of the very large trees, hoping that they wouldn't investigate further. In part because he had no way of communicating with them, and because… He wanted to watch the little ones play without being potentially chased off by the adults. Not that they could really stop him from watching as none of them appeared to be an armor and all Astartes were living weapons - and Primaris Marines such as himself were (according to the Mechanicus) even better… But he didn't want them to leave, either.

He had no way to contact his brothers if this wasn't some very strange, semi-lucid dream, and no way to converse with these civilians either - unless they did speak Gothic, and preferred whatever language they were speaking in when interacting with family members.

Cedric waited several minutes before peering around the trunk of the massive tree (the reddish-brown bark was spongy to the touch and had a delightfully earthy scent. It's tree branches were dozens of feet up in the air and had flat green needles) once again. The adult humans had not changed positions, and the children continued to run around the forest clearing, throwing the ball at one another, as half of them chased the others who were in possession of the ball. Eventually the chasers versus the being chased would change when the ball would change hands, and back across the forest clearing they would go.

One of the youngest children mis-aimed their throw, though the strength with which they threw the ball was admirable. It bounced off one of the gigantic trees inches from one of their teammates and ricocheted passed where Cedric was lurking and out of sight of the young ones. The ball bounced off a couple of trees before rolling to a stop in front of Cedric's feet.]

The young apothecary swallowed hard, suspecting that the children would charge into the forest after the ball - whether or not they were allowed to by their adult family members, and he had nowhere to hide in time - hiding behind the tree from the oncoming children would reveal himself to the sitting adults. Maybe… Maybe he could roll the ball back towards where the assembled children and adults were, and they would assume that it had bounced back towards them, while hopefully keeping himself from sight? Another anxious whine left his lips as he stared uncertainly at the ball, starting to reach for it.

Before Cedric could make a decision, four of the children ran to his hiding place. The child who'd thrown the ball not even noticing Cedric's half-crouch as they gleefully dived for the ball, scooping it up in their tiny hands, raising it over their head victoriously.

… The other three children had stopped running and were staring up at him, a mixture of emotions that Cedric was unsure as to whether or not he was identifying correctly on their faces. The oldest - or at least the largest of them - stepped forward and said something to the other three, who scampered back to the group.

Fuck! Now what? Should he run? No, it's not like he was doing anything illegal or sinful… right? He's just… Lost. Maybe one of the baseline humans did speak Gothic? Or at least enough for them to communicate? Another anxious whine left his lips as the baseline human child looked at him directly in the eyes and said… Something.

Cedric hunched his shoulders, trying not to seem threatening as he… Found himself unable to look the human child in the eye. As carefully and clearly as he could manage, he spoke in Gothic "I do not understand you, young one. Do you know this language?"

The child stared at him uncomprehendingly for several seconds before pulling out a small metallic object that reminded Cedric somewhat of a data slate, though much smaller. The child focused on the tiny slate for several seconds before a neutral voice with a Maccragian accent spoke "Hello, I am Amicus De'leth, Brother-Sargeant of the seventh Company of the Ultramarines. One of my humans has called me, asking for help as an interpreter?"

Cedric had no blessed idea who this Brother-sergeant was, but a wave of relief that nearly caused him to cry washed through his body. "I… I am Primaris Brother-Apothecary Cedric of the Black Templars, sir.. I'm… I don't know how I ended up on one of the worlds of the Realm of Ultramar, the last thing I remember was falling asleep on my bunk on The Sigismund."

"… Do you have any of your brothers with you, Cedric?" The Brother-sergeant asked from the square communicator.

"No sir. I woke up alone, without my armor… Or weapons… Or med kit… I don't even have boots on sir…" Cedric responded, another anxious whine leaving him as he started to realize just how woefully underdressed and unprepared he was. The world began to spin unpleasantly beneath him, so he grabbed onto the large tree he'd been spending the better part of twenty minutes hiding behind as he desperately tried to fend off a panic attack.

"Little brother, Cedric! I need you to focus on me, on my voice. I know that you're feeling overwhelmed, but I need you to keep calm, alright? I've asked one of the adult humans in the group you found to bring you to me, alright? There are several Astartes bases in the city I live in… Black Templars are a successor chapter of the Imperial Fists, right?" The Ultramarine asked his voice firm and grounding as Cedric tried to claw his way to some sort of emotional equilibrium.

His head was swimming - and he wasn't sure if it was just because of the confused panic trying to stop his hearts. Something felt off- wrong. He couldn't put his finger on what. But he had to answer the brother-sergeant's question. It would be insubordinate of him if he didn't… Fuck, why couldn't he stop whining wordlessly? It wasn't helping him regain some sense of emotional equilibrium in the slightest, and the human child was looking at him with open concern on their tiny face. "Yes sir, The Black Templars are a successor chapter of the Imperial fists." Cedric doesn't know why that matters.

"Alright, there aren't any Black Templars that I know of nearby, but there are several Imperial Fists, and I figure having an older brother or two around to explain… Everything that we currently understand about what's going on - which isn't life-threatening or dangerous, near as any of us can tell - will help. Forgive me for the assumption if I am wrong, but you sound… Young, Cedric. Am I correct? How long has it been since the rollout of the Primaris Marines? This posting means that getting reliable news is… Difficult." Brother-Sergeant De'leth inquired.

"I… I've been training under my mentor for about… Four years, sir? After the holy resurrection of the Imperial Regent he gathered all of the primaris marines ready for deployment and brought reinforcements to those chapters who knelt before him and swore loyalty to him and to the Imperium once again. Those who refused to kneel were slaughtered by the Ultramarines and Lord Regent Guilliman, sir. The Lord Regent himself spoke to High Marshal Helbriecht. I'm not sure how old I am, sir. The Mechanicum never put much stock into measuring our ages in such a way, sir. Only how effective we were in learning combat and our specialized roles, if we tested into them."

"Father… Father lives. Of course he does. I'm going to ask the young one who's comm device we're using to talk to each other to get their father, so that he can drive you to the base. Cooperate with them." The Ultramarine ordered "The father speaks some Gothic."

"Yes sir." Cedric responded, unable to stop himself from saluting the strange comm, snapping to attention at the stern voice of command, ducking his head a little.

"Good lad. Follow Amira to her father." The Ultramarine brother-sergeant ordered, which Cedric dutifully obeyed.

The vehicle used by Amira's father to get Cedric to the Astartes base reminded him somewhat of one of the ground-tanks used in skirmishes against xenos, but it was much less well-armored, didn't have any weapons on it, and the engine was distressingly noisy. The baseline human had greeted him in heavily accented Gothic and spoke little on the drive, for which Cedric was grateful, as it allowed him time to try and figure out why he felt so strange. His mind was still clouded and his thoughts were somewhat sluggish and hazy. He had managed to more or less calm down, despite how utterly without any of his gear he still was, especially after Amira's father had handed him a small, soft toy that vaguely resembled some of the terrestrial creatures found on Feral and Death worlds. It had two black plastic eyes, soft yellow-brown faux-fur. It had two small rounded ears, and was dressed in a facilimile of ultramarine armor - though the fake armor was slightly less soft to the touch than the faux-fur.

Irrationally, Cedric wished that the armor was the white, black and red of a Black Templar Apothecary, with a red cybernetic eye in it's left socket, and jagged scars across it's lower jaw. Still, the small toy was a surprising source of comfort as the young primaris marine buried his face in its' plush fur. he'd had to nearly fold in half and was laying down in the back of the car in order to fit, his knees against his chest. Cedric stayed curled like that until the vehicle came to a stop and the baseline human called out.

"We are here."

"Thank you, sir." Cedric responded, carefully setting down the toy and using a single finger to carefully open the door of the vehicle with it's handle, not wanting to accidentally break part of the mechanism when the human had been kind to him, more than he had needed to be. He carefully shut the door and gave the other a salute, watching the human drive off.

An Ultramarine - a sergeant from his red helm and markings - was walking alongside an Imperial fist as the two of them made their way over to him.

The Imperial Fist whistled as he took off his helmet, looking Cedric up and down "I've never meet a Primaris marine before. You're a big lad, aren't you? I am Brother-Captain Yonnas Bilnes. I'm in charge of the Imperial Fists - and our successor chapters - in this territory. Let's get you a pair of boots and something to eat, and I'll explain where you are - and as far as we've been able to discover - how any of us appeared here. I'll introduce you to our head apothecary o nce you've settled in. It's always good to have another medic around. How long have you been a battle brother?"

"Err… Six months, I think? Sir." Cedric responded, dutifully following the silent order to follow the two into the large building, keeping a respectful three paces behind the higher ranking astartes.

#space marine husbandry #space marine husbandry sentience #oc: cedric #oc: Amicus #oc: amira #cw: panic attack #my writing #warhammer 40k #oc: Yonnas

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