The cavernous temple echoed with the rhythmic chant of the priestess choir, their voices a mournful dirge that seemed to seep into the very bones of those present. Arawn, the squad leader, stood at the forefront, his armor gleaming in the dim light of the bioluminescent fungi that adorned the walls. Behind him, his squad, The BladeFallen, formed a phalanx, their faces etched with a mix of pride and solemn duty.

Glorymph, a priest of Muile-Mhàg, stepped forward, his robes billowing around him like a dark cloud.

His voice, deep and resonant, boomed through the chamber, "Arawn, and his valiant squad, you have proven yourselves worthy of the highest honors. Your victory at the stronghold was a beacon of hope in these dark times."

A hush fell over the crowd as Glorymph raised his hands, and a beam of light descended from the ceiling, illuminating the squad.

"For your bravery and sacrifice, you are hereby promoted to the rank of Captain. Your cruiser, the Cyflymder, awaits you, ready to carry you to new battles."

The BladeFallen erupted into cheers, their voices mingling with the mournful chanting of the priestesses. As the ceremony continued, Arawn and his squad were presented with their new cruiser and transport shuttle. They were also given a bounty of better rations, a testament to their newfound status.

Finally, Glorymph turned to the collective,

"As a reward for your exceptional service, your commanding officer may choose a camp follower from among the priestesses of this temple to accompany you all wherever Muile-Mhàg may send you.

Then, turning to Arawn,

"Remember, she will be more than just a companion for you and your men; she will be a symbol of your rank and authority."

Arawn nodded, his gaze scanning the rows of priestesses. His choice was swift and decisive. He selected a young woman named Sammakko, her eyes filled with a mixture of reverence and a quiet strength. With a simple gesture, Glorymph united them, sealing her bond with the squad.

As the ceremony drew to a close, Arawn and his BladeFallem left the temple, their minds filled with the weight of their new responsibilities. The Cyflymder awaited them, a symbol of their triumph and a promise of the battles yet to come.

<<--Two Hours Later-->>

Sammakko stepped through the heavy metal door of her quarters, the cool, sterile air of the Cyflymder enveloping her. She had spent her entire life within the confines of the temple, and the stark contrast of this alien environment was both exhilarating and unsettling.

The room was small but efficient, with a larger than standard bed, a desk, and a small viewport that offered a glimpse of the star-filled void beyond. The walls were lined with cabinets and shelves, filled with supplies, which priestly supplies she would need for quite some time.

It was a far cry from the ornate chambers of the temple, but there was a certain comfort in its simplicity.

As she surveyed her new home, she once again noticed the two guards standing at attention beside the door. They were imposing figures, their armor gleaming in the dim light. Arawn had assured her that they were among the squad's finest, and she could see why.

Their presence was both reassuring and intimidating.

Sammakko approached the viewport and gazed out at the stars. The vastness of space filled her with a sense of both awe and insignificance. She thought of her life in the temple, surrounded by the familiar rituals and traditions.

Now, she was embarking on a new journey, one that would take her far from everything she had ever known.

As she turned away from the viewport, she felt a pang of loneliness. She had been raised in a close-knit community, surrounded by the love and support of her fellow priestesses. Now, she was alone, except for the two guards. But she knew that she had to be strong. She had a role to play in this new world, and she was determined to fulfill it.