rolled 2, 3, 1 = 6
The Brother Dreadnought returned to his fellows, leaving the Tau pilot to crawl in the dirt until it perished from the elements. He attempted, through the most rigorous meditation, to forget her, and to make himself believe that he left her to die slowly, to torture her. But the Emperor would not let him forget. For years, through incredible purges, unending battles, endless voyages, he remembered her in his dreams. It was not until he and his Chapter faced the Tau again that he felt he had any chance of erasing his transgression.
When Iratus made the drop he felt as a new man, filled with righteous fury and fully loaded for war. He killed countless Xenos with a glad heart and a blank mind, never once thinking of his crime as he murdered her fellows without a second thought.
Finally, he came to a hill, where fortified Snipers were picking off his Brothers with an ease he could not allow. Flamer and Bolter broke them easily, and as he climbed the hill to finish them completely, he felt vindicated. Despite his uncleanliness, he still served, and kept his faith. But that feeling did not last. As he reached the top of the hill, he came face-to-face with a lone Battlesuit, waiting for him. Its Railguns pointed at his stocky body, easily able to tear him to pieces at such close range. The Assault Cannon began spinning, but Iratus was suddenly jarred out of his focus. The Battlesuit spoke, three words that Iratus recognized as Gothic, even through the pilot's heavy accent.
WE. ARE. CLEAR.
And the suit backed down, walking down the hill without firing a shot. Iratus resisted the urge to hit it in the back, despite the voice in his head screaming at him to redeem himself.
The Brother Dreadnought left that planet a confused and flustered man, and for the rest of his life he could not get the memory out of his head. An honorable Tau. He laughed at the thought, and it warmed his heart. Perhaps man did not have as many enemies as it thought?