Orion was a simple man. He prayed to the Emperor, did the work he was assigned by his pig faced supervisor, and when called upon helped with the community watch. It wasn't much, and often it was quite tiring.

But there was one thing he enjoyed, and that was seeing his children smile. And his children loved the police, ever since their mother had been drafted for duty. So, he carved them. He was quite terrible at first, adding scars where there shouldn't have been, but he got better.

His children greatly enjoyed the little models, enjoyed setting them up and carrying them around to fight imaginary monsters and heretics. He slowly got better at making them, and others noticed. Other children saw the models and asked him to make them some. He made more, but soon got to the point where even some of his coworkers asked for little police models.

Well, talk spread of the man who made police. And while he knew enough of the guard to make them fairly well, came from having a wife enlist, but they wanted more. They wanted something different than the local guards. They wanted guardsmen.

So, he had to go down to the local barracks. The Guardsmen gave him strangle looks at first, but when he pulled out one of his small painted minis, they simply laughed. They would let him model them of course, as long as they got their CO's permission; along with a couple minis themselves.

SO, with the blessings from skeptical commanders, he began to carve out the guardsmen. It took a couple more scars on his fingers, some wasted lumps of plastic, but he eventually got it just right. All the little poses, the shapes of their guns, their equipment. Once he had it down just pat, he gave a couple of minis to the guardsmen who helped him model, then went back to making them for the children.

Now, in a million different futures this would be the end of the man who made soldiers. In some futures, a warp storm surrounded the planet with demons, and he was turned into a plague bearer, his wife turning to worship Khorne in her rage and sorrow.

In another one, Dark Eldar raided the planet and took him and his children as slaves. This would push his wife to joining the Guard, rising to the rank of general before losing her life in a strike against a major Dark Eldar fleet, a smile on her lips as flame consumed her.

And in another? They all were consumed by the hungry jaws of the Tyranids.

But in this one future, where everything went just right, none of these happened. In this one, he sat at home in a comfortable chair. In this one, a general read a report mentioning better morale, that little soldiers were involved. How the police had been much more, polite, ever since they had their own made. He puffed on a cigar and started writing a report, asking a certain supervisor to meet with him tomorrow morning.

And in the Warp, a certain mollusk smiled. " My my my, now that is interesting."