The soldier's respirator hissed urgently as he instinctively took a half step back, his military boots scraping harshly on the metal floor. His calloused hands hovered between the lunchbox and Noah, trembling like an overloaded server processing conflicting commands.
"I... I'm not worthy..." a muffled voice came from under the gas mask, laced with painful reverence. "Twice blessed... this is too extravagant..."
His extreme humility struck Noah unpleasantly. He recalled that when he had inspected the soldier's soul using psionics, he had sensed a profound aura of "atonement" clinging to him.
What sin? Noah wondered. How could someone so young, who had gone to the battlefield for humanity, be capable of such a thing? Furthermore, Noah had sensed no genuine stain on the soldier's soul, proving him innocent. He was a hero fighting for humanity.
"Take it." Noah shoved the lunchbox into his arms, adopting a commanding tone. "This is... uh... the God-Emperor's trial! A trial to see if you can accept a double blessing!"
This improvised excuse made the soldier tremble. He clutched the lunchbox like a sacred object, then instantly knelt on one knee, touching Noah's combat boot with his forehead, the highest tribute a Krieger could pay a field priest.
"May the Emperor punish my weakness..." The soldier's voice was tearful. "I actually doubted His generosity..."
He quickly opened the box and began to devour its contents. He was truly starving; one meal was clearly insufficient for him, especially one so delicious.
Noah stood by and watched him finish the meal, then quietly took the empty box back. Even insignificant resources needed recycling when he had so few materials.
He put the lunchbox into his small spatial backpack, a Federation-made dark energy device that could hold supplies equivalent to a small asteroid.
The backpack contained emergency gear he had completely forgotten about until after he had eaten and meditated.
Life in the Federation was so convenient that emergency supplies rarely came in handy, and his mind had been preoccupied with the headache of being at least 200 million light-years from home.
How annoying, he thought. Why did I wake up so far away?
The soldier's superstitious behavior made Noah profoundly uncomfortable.
He was a native-born Federation citizen, and in the Terran Federation, no one was this superstitious about gods—not when the Federation's own citizens wielded psionics capable of splitting mountains and overturning oceans.
To lesser civilizations, the Federation's people were the gods of legend. How could someone from a culture where even "gods" faced KPI assessments be so devoutly superstitious? Noah couldn't fathom it. However, out of respect for his fellow human, he didn't intervene.
After the soldier finished his meal and Noah put away the lunchbox, the two remained silent, typical of the Krieg Death Korps. Noah, meanwhile, sank back into his annoyance over the vast distance and his earlier forgetfulness.
Time slowly passed. As a powerful psionic and genetically enhanced individual, Noah did not require rest, but his biological clock, accustomed to an ordinary civilian life in the Federation, began to urge him to rest.
Noah took two beds from his small backpack and placed one next to the soldier. "Go to sleep. You sleep, and when you wake up tomorrow, you'll be back in your fortress. This is the God-Emperor's grace to you. Sleep well."
Noah was tempted to keep the Krieg Death Korps soldier for more information about this strange star sector.
However, the soldier was clearly not forthcoming, and now that Noah confirmed he was a fellow human, directly extracting memories via psionics was out of the question.
Given the limited knowledge he had already gleaned, sending the soldier back was the better choice. Despite his distaste for seeing someone so young on the battlefield, the Federation always respected its soldiers. He would send him back to his fortress to continue his duties.
"Tell me your name, soldier."
"191714-877632-1551-Akerson, Sir. That is my name."
Hearing the code-like sequence, Noah was momentarily silent. "Alright, soldier, I remember your name. Go to sleep. Your sins have been cleansed, and the God-Emperor will forgive you."
Noah's final sentence made the soldier instantly collapse onto the soft bed and fall into a deep sleep.
After confirming the soldier was asleep, Noah looked at the young man who had already taken up arms. He felt compelled to provide some insurance.
He took materials from his backpack and used his smart wristband to fashion a laser gun, identical in appearance to the soldier's old, dilapidated one, but with its power increased twentyfold.
With a wave of his hand, he then took the two previous lunchboxes and applied all their refined material to the Krieg Death Korps uniform. This rough modification boosted the greatcoat's defensive quality to rival Ranger-type power armor—a rough effort due to the scarcity of materials.
Noah felt a pang of regret for losing the lunchboxes, which had taken him two days to collect and refine.
Basic Federation materials were difficult to synthesize here; he had refined at least 5,000 tons of scrap just to get this tiny amount of specialized substance.
He needed to be frugal, but the stock in his spatial backpack was still considerable, and the young soldier had provided immense, if involuntary, help in language and information. This gift was his necessary compensation.
"Sleep, Akerson, I will send you back to where you belong."