Chapter 5.2 - Ironbound - IC

He shakes his head, "I am sorry brother Templar. I am ordered to the utmost secrecy. All I can say is that my aim is the redemption of the Achilus crusade itself."

As Richeliu and Albrect speak, Lt Donovan and his attendants approach the rest of you. His eyes were on the Confessor and Albrect. The ecclesiarchy battle priory, in turn eyes him and you.

"Captain? I have something I think you will be quite pleased to see."

From among his command staff, a techpriest shuffles out and speaks, "LT (buzzz) what you have perpetuated here is heresy of the 5th order. (buzzz) I demand that you fix what you have done before the spirits curse you on the field of battle."

Donovan was clearly annoyed with the techpriest, you get the impression that this was not the first time he had said such things. "I have a higher law, natural law, and that law says 'survival of the fittest' so shut your buzzing mouth."

"(buzzz) I will make sure to-"

Donovan cuts him off, "Make a formal protest to the Major and you order of blah blah blah, we get it."

The techpriest eyes him from glowing green sockets. As soon as his sight registers the Makradon among the deathwatch, he shambles forwards.

[Brother techmarine, hail the omnissiah. This man has perpetuated techno-heresy in the 5th order and is unrepentant for his actions. He has already written me off but maybe your words will have more merit?] He speaks in techna-lingua.

Donovan catches the exchange, but could not understand the words, "Anyway....I have something I think you will be most pleased to see."

Cassiel finally weighs in. "I find it hard to believe that one who hides behind the valor of others could themselves provide any form of redemption. There is plenty of redemption to be found in putting everything - body and soul - on the line for the Emperor's command to make safe the Galaxy for mankind." Cassiel continues, "Best of luck in your mission. But take heed of this warning. Since you refuse to reveal your mission I must caution you about the fog of war. If your troops enter the field of battle without communicating their presence carefully, they may be in danger from their allies. I would hate to see the redemption of the crusade placed in danger through a refusal to communicate your specific aims."

"Makradon, speak with the techpriest. If there is a crime or heresy, I wish to know of it.". Cassiel finishes with one of the most ancient phrases in High Gothic, Quis custodiet ipsos custodes, meaning who will watch the watchers? Cassiel wasn't afraid to end Donovan if he felt it was necessary. Let Donovan's lieutenant lodge a formal protest to the Major. That thought draws forth a smile.

While the discussion with the Cardinal goes on Bleda observes the human from the Ecclesiarchy. He was obviously hiding something and Bleda wished to know what, so he reads the human like he had read the major before and cast his psychic powers to know more.

Makradon replies to the tech priest in techna-lingua, curious as to what had happened for the tech priest to become so upset.

"Please explain the situation, tech priest."

Before Albrect could respond, Cassiel had said his thoughts. The confessor looks at him, his eyes locking firmly onto his insignia.

"Do not speak to me of valor, dark angel? I cannot count how many lives have been lost on fields where your chapter was counted as allies. With a track record and a penchant for leaving allies' flanks open so that they could just run from battle. No words, no explainations, just......poof, and your gone."

He was right, Cassiel and Makradon knew the real reasons why. There were dozens, perhaps even hundred of accounts of the scions of the Lion receiving Intel on the fallen during campaigns ranging all over the cosmos. When such Intel is received and is deemed credible, the chapter quits the field and pursues the fallen without hesitation. It was highly doubtful the confessor, or any one not of the lion, would know the true reasons, but it had earned them a reputation nonetheless.

Before Cassiel could even begin to give an explanation, the confessor talks to Albrect once again.
"Apologies, my fellow believer. The presence of your friends tires me, and I have much to do before we are underway."

He bows respectfully to Albrect and then turns to head back to his battle-flock.

Sent from Topic'it App

Bleda tries to connect to the warp to read the confessor.

Instead of seeing the confessor's hidden emotions, he finds himself standing on the bank of a gulf of emptiness. It seemed as if the warp was silent, even dead. The experience leaves him disturbed, almost physically sick from the experience.

****

The techpriest buzzes a response.
[The Lt has defaced an instrument of the Omnissiah. I have protested without ceasing and he refuses to listen to reason. In fact, he seems proud of his heresy. He is eager to show you, no doubt to bring you into his techno-heresy.]

Sent from Topic'it App

Lucius watched as each attempt failed, and finally diplomacy was dashed by the Lion's tactics. With a sigh he stepped forward. "Confessor, if I may. Emotions are high and that forces poor decisions. What we have each made abundantly clear is that both of our forces are tactical assets on the field of battle. It goes without saying that united, we can reach our goals much more quickly and efficiently than if we are divided against one another. I propose a quid-pro-quo. Aid us and we will divert our resources and manpower to do the same for you. Both of our missions can succeed today, if we swallow our pride and allow it."

+++
[Charm (untrained) mods? <40; rolled 92; FP re-roll 60 (Pass on straight Fellowship)
2/3 FP remain
http://orokos.com/roll/613629
http://orokos.com/roll/613630

He regards Lucius for a moment. By now you realize he has a keen eye for details. Not only that, but he knows details deeper than passing a passing knowledge of the astartes.

Iron skull, novamarine, offspring of the ultramarines.....

"I understand what you are saying, novamarine. Please, don't mistake my intentions. I am not motivated by pride. I have lived far too long for that. Nor do I harbor any ill-will towards any of you, I am not an obstacle unless I am made to be one." He eyes Cassiel and Serephan, both whom have insulted him thus far. "I only live to fulfill the duty and will bestowed upon me by the emperor and the holy church which he founded. I cannot, and will not be deterred from my duty. But I am not unwilling to provide mutual cooperation, to you, nor the astra militarum. I simply can't commit any forces into a frontal assault without the blessed might of the heavy weapons. The major is confident that they can take the area, even without my help. Once the ports are secured, then I will bring fourth the holy might of the eccliesiarchy and rain righteous vengeance against the filthy xenos."

Lucius was pleased with the answer, if only because they had finally made some headway with the Confessor.

Lucius smacked his fist against the iron skull on his chest in recognition of the promise for reinforcements. It was better than nothing.

The Confessor had said nothing of either team’s true mission - Ironbound - which was only marginally better than saying the wrong thing.

“Understood. For the Emperor.”

Sent from Topic'it App

Makradon replies in techna lingua to the priest.

"Please do explain further. I will do all in power to stop the heresy should I deem it necessary to do so."

Albrecht silently cursed Cassiel, he didn't know him as well as most of Draco to know that such a retort was probably to have been expected. He was a brother marine though and Albrecht wasn't about to show decent in the ranks when in the presence of non Astartes.

He nods to the confessor "I wish you the Emperors speed in your task. May you bring His wrath to your battlefield. Praise be." Albrecht found that he liked the confessor despite his initial misgivings, he was steadfast in his task and would not be bowed by the might of the Astartes. He just hoped they didn't get in the way of Draco.

With the business of the confessor concluded for the time being, there was nothing left but to see what Donovan had to show you, which Makradon was being told was 5th degree techno heresy.

You move back towards the astra militarum portion of the staging area. It was as before, a veritable hive of buzzing bees preparing for the assault. There were possibly hundreds of chimera's here alone. Each one was loaded with gear that would be needed once the black sea was crossed, some even had the platoons that would use them lounging around, done with their work and waiting for the order to go.

If the activity kept up, you estimate they would be ready to go in scant hours.

As you follow Donovan, he points out things to you. None of it was particularly relevant, it was as if he was a nobleman trying to impress his guests. The tech priest keeps buzzing techna lingua at Makradon. Makradon could tell the techpriest was far too excitable.

Once they arrive at the point of contention, his suspicions were confirmed....

"This should be done in a few hours," Donovan begins as he leads you to a vehicle lift. On it was a chimera whose chassis was in the process of being altered. The top plate was gone, the interior seats and gear compartments had been ripped out, and as you watch, servitors were replacing the watertight rear door with a door that encompassed the whole back side of the transport. With the modifications, it would be a roomy vehicle.
"With this, you can get your walker-friend across the black sea in the first wave."

The techpriest bursts out into a tirade of expletives and techno curses, which only Makradon could understand.

Lucius walked near Donovan. Regardless of how awe-inspiring the Astartes were to the standard human, he knew they could be terrifying as well. They were simply too far removed. For this reason, Lucius tried to humanize himself and his brothers whenever he could. Like always, his helmet was off and clipped to his belt. His golden eyes scanned the troops, greeting them as he went. Here and there, he would exchange pleasantries. He told a squad that their weapons looked expertly clean. Another, he congratulated on the sharpness of their bayonets. Again another, he simply nodded to and asked to be a part of their blessing.

When he got to the Chimera, his face broke into a soft grin. "This is outstanding work, lieutenant. Brother Ambrose! Your chariot awaits."

Bleda goes with the rest of the squad as he ponders this experience. But for now he forced his agitation down before he sends over the vox.

"That cardinal surely had specialized personal. Both Sisters of Battle, as could be expected, as well as at least one pariah in his entourage."

"I think I misunderstood the substance of the heresy."  Cassiel addresses the Techpriest.  "These modifications may be an affront to the Omissah, but trying to reverse them now might be another form of heresy if it keeps my brothers from joining the fray.  We will use this Chimera and limit the contamination with other units.  When everything is settled, we'll do what we can to ensure that proper amends are made."  For once, Cassiel is probably not planning on killing someone.

The techpriest's face was a jumble of gears, wires, and tiny lumien circuits. Even his glowing blue eyes belay no emotions. He looks back at Makradon, eager to see if the Techmarine will side with the machine cult, or with the astra militarum. His was the only opinion here that carried any weight.

Makradon kept his face hidden under his helm, calculating inside the amount of supposed heresy that was being committed and weighing it against the mission. Without Ambrose, the mission would likely be more difficult and definitely less interesting in his eyes. However, this was an affront to the machine cult, something that could be seen as heresy.

Makradon lets a few seconds go by, trying not to let any human side of him interfere.

"Lt. Donovan, you should indeed have tried to modify this with the assistance of the mechanicus. We could have altered it in such a way as to not disturb the machine spirits within. It is quite the affront to our god and indeed to the cult itself."

He lets the words hang there for a moment before continuing.

"However, this vehicle may let us bring across Venerable Ambrose, which is likely key to having a successful mission. Or at least a less difficult one. He will be able to assist us in battle, and the mission at hand."

The tech marine's head turns slowly towards the Lt.

"Do keep in mind, others might not be as forgiving as I am."

The techpriest lowers his head, deflated.

Surely, the techmarine would've known that the machine spirits would have been incensed at any sort of bodily modification. The cult would not agree to mangle one except in the most dire situation, and this was not one of them.

He would have to find other avenues for censure of the Lt, though it would be a long and difficult road, hardly worth the effort.

Donovan clears his throat, unsure how to take Makradon's threat, or was it a warning?
"well, as you can see, cult servitors are doing it." He offered.

He perks up a bit when Cassiel and Lucius seem to agree with him, it gave him a good reason to change the subject.
"So since you'll be joining us, how will you proceed?"

It was a question you had not discussed much, but it needed to be done before the assault was launched. There were 5 landing spots, all had worth, but there were only so many astartes who could go.

Albrecht favoured the centre, the fighting would be thickest there and the chance of glory greatest. It was an obvious choice he thought. The defended cliffs did present a clear challenge though, he coudl see that clearly enough so was intrigued as to what the plans were for breaking the defense and scaling the position. He turns to Donovan "Lieutenant, do you know what the plan is to take the cliffs, is there a way up?"

EDITED due to not understanding importance of Port OOC

Lucius turned to the team. “This offensive is going to be massive; My initial instincts are to hit the center - site 3 - as it will be the toughest battle for the guard. The sooner we take it, the sooner the guard can entrench, re-supply, and send reinforcements to other sectors.”

It was a typical strongpoint maneuver and a tried and true one at that. It was the most dangerous fighting too and that’s where Astartes were meant to be.

“However, if we were to split our forces and try to kill two gargoyles with one bolter round, we could always send our heavy hitters to the port to secure extra armor while those of us with jump packs assault the cliff face.  Albrecht, Khol, and myself could lead the cliff mission. Then we could flank Site 3 as the Guard advances from the center.”

He waited for a response.

Sent from Topic'it App

Donovan shrugs, "The men have grapnels, the cliffs are about 15 meters high, it'll be a tough climb, but the men are fresh and eager to take the fight back to the xenos scum."

Hydrako spoke up again now that the conversation had gone back to the offensive. To receive help from the confessor, we must secure the port. The Guard will need it to resupply also. I agree with taking the cliffs using our mobility, while the rest of us take the port. The faster that beachhead is secured, the better prepared we will be when the main attack takes place on site three. Reservists will come from there after we move on to attack the next zone. The cliffs should be the base of the artillery whom can soften the defenses of site three while we are moving in. His voice was a whisper, but the hunger in his words was plain to hear

Albrecht could clearly see the benefit of taking the port but be damned with it, he wanted to go up the centre. As far as he was concerned Astartes and especially Black Templars should be where the fighting was thickest and not 'skulking' around the edges.

"We should take the centre, the fighting will be fiercest there, the enemy numerous and with powerful synapse xeno. Surely that is obvious. Let the guard take the port and cliffs." The centre was where he could worship the Emperor the best.

“I completely agree; however, I think we can do it all. If we can coordinate with the guard forces assaulting site three to not advance until our flanking objects have been taken, we can all move on the site together.”

Lucius turned to Donovan. “Surely, a little coordination is not out of the question, right Lieutenant?”

Sent from Topic'it App

Bleda speaks up.

"I agree that the Astartes without jump packs could strike at the port while those with jump packs could strike for the cliffs, if we would go boldness over caution. In my opinion it might be a slow going to get both terminator and dreadnought armour over those cliffs. Better than that they, and I with them due to my lack of a jump pack, strike for a place with less natural obsticles to limit their use."

Bleda glances at the Black Templar waiting for a barrage of insults and inquiries about Bleda's courage and honor.

Khol has been busy overlooking the guards equipment during the drama outburst. Even if he did pay any attention to it, a modified chimera that is able to hold & move dreadnoughts over liquid surfaces was normal when needed.

*************

"Ah"', releasing some of the air in his lungs with satisfaction when his ears caught what sounds like plans of action being made. "I'll join the cliff forces.", answering Lucius' question in a hasty fashion, "Yes coordination is at hand to deal with the Guard... Hell I'll happily provide recon for the groop & take initiative for the Guardsmen, having binoculars n all.", now speaking for the Lt but in with a matter of confidence for the Guard. It filled him with great pride of the idea doing recon thats mixed up with commanding guardsmen on the side. It almost reminds him the sheithole he was in before the Deathwatch, but Khol shooked the memory away. It was in the past.

Donovan listens to all the conflicting opinions with a slow nod.

It seems the Astartes were keen to take sites 3 and 4.

To Khol, he says, "I will gladly let you take the point role on the cliffs."

He then looks Khol over, and notices a keen difference between him and the others, "Master astartes, Why is it you dont wear the same armor as the others? I mean, those two (Hydrako and Ambrose) are clearly the heavy ones; but Ive never heard of angels of Death in Carapace."

"In any case, we should be done preparing in 4 hours. We will give the men 10 hours of rest and then start early in the morning. This should give you time to finish your planning, rest, eat.....whatever it is you do before battle. Of course, I'm sure its beneath you, but the common soldier always revels a bit too much before battle."

“I assume you have special operators within your forces - storm troopers, infiltrators, things of that nature? I would speak with them prior to their rest.”

Lucius knew that while an average soldier would no doubt benefit from his tutelage, the special operators would do the most damage and thus benefit the most. He was eager to share his knowledge.

Sent from Topic'it App

"Clearly I've forgotten tu properly introduce myself from our first meet.", he pauses & breaks eye contact. Pondering to himself on how could he forgotten repectfully introducing himself. Maybe he seemed a bit eager on having interaction with something that he's a bit more familiar. Khol comes too & extends his arm out for another handshake, "Khol Yates is the name. Originally from 23rd squad 10th Company, Raptors. I usually do recon operations, whenevar I'm not given errand boy." , he slightly remembers the so called tasks that he would get before properly being assigned to a kill team. It was underneath him but at the same time, nobody could've done it better. He pushes the thought to the side, knowing it was for the best of things.

Makradon listened to them all on their opinions, logging each one for further study on their individual characters. Writing everyone's personal history would be a task, but one that would be important for those that came after them.

He speaks up, last as usual.

"I will go to the port or the heaviest fighting, whichever we decide on. The cliffs might prove too difficult for my frame."

"Start eating less mate & soon you'll be as agile as I.", a devilish smirk grows on Khols face while he looks at his templar brother, then slaps his belly at the end.

Lucius cracked a small smile at Khol's remark to the stalwart tech marine. "Careful, mate," he added using Khol's own colloquialism for team mates. "I've seen Makradon tear an aquila lander in two with just his fists."

Banter aside, Lucius was eager to speak with the Guard's special operators.

Seraphan had stayed back - although he was Astartes and no stranger to war he knew that Lucius and Cassiel had the better grasp of tactics and so far he could not fault the plan that had been laid out. Once the plan had been laid the Blood Angel spoke over the private vox to the Brothers in Draco

"Perhaps and oath taking would be suitable for this endeavour?"

Sent from Topic'it App

Lucius looked over to Seraphan and gave a serious nod of agreement. If the team was splitting, their oaths needed to be reinforced.

Lucius responded back over the private channel in squad cant. "Brother Seraphan, you can go with either strike team. Your jump pack will allow you to scale the cliffs without issue, but you're also our only apothecary. The choice is yours."

Makradon let his concentration divert to Khol for a brief moment at the suggestion of his lack of agility, of course not really understanding the joke too much.

"It would be optimal to design some sort of device that would allow for an integration of jump pack and servo harness for future endeavors. At that point, I will approach you for advice on how to become more agile. I assure you that I intake only the minimal amount of sustenance for optimal performance."

He looks over to Lucius.

"It pained me at the time, but I do acknowledge that feat of strength."

Cassiel has been nodding as the conversation has continued. Makradon made some good points, so it is up to Cassiel to issue the final orders and trust the team to ensure they're carried out. "Lieutenant Donovan is launching five columns of attack, with or without us. Straight up the middle will be the toughest fighting. Brother Ambrose will take the point, flanked by Hydrako and I. Makradon, you will come with us to ensure that he remains in operation." Cassiel turns to Lucius, "You will lead a second squad and your objective will be to ensure that the port is secured. This target is perhaps the most important. Lieutenant Donovan may expect it to be the least defended, but I think he will be surprised by the determination of the foe. The presence of a handful of marines may tip the balance, especially one that is a veteran of the Tyrannic Wars on Macragge.".

If nobody was satisfied with the orders, Cassiel knew that they were the right ones - balancing the military objectives with personal glory was never easy.

Lucius frowned. Had Cassiel really listened to nothing the team was saying or was this simply his hubris coming to the fore?

He responded to their squad leader in Drco cant. "While that would no doubt win the day, I believe the plan we were just discussing has the most overall strategic successes. By securing the cliffs, we free up troops to take site five. With site five and the cliffs taken, we can redirect artillery to fire on site three. With the port clear, the Confessor's forces can push forward and reinforce our flanks. Then, together, we can move in on the flanks of site three. This will allow us to carry the most victories with the least collateral damage, provided everyone does their jobs. Do you not agree?"

Hydrako clicked his teeth in agreement with Lucius. We must attack where we will be most effective. Attacking the front without the support of the artillery will only see us bogged down in a meat grinder. Let the mortals attacking site 3 fix the enemy in place while we win other sectors. We will grind them to dust when we join the attack with the support of the Confessor and the Basilisks.

Cassiel stood motionless, his mind warring with itself. To break the heart of the enemy by driving relentlessly toward it - a full scale attack - was the greatest joy of his chapter. To pit strength against strength and emerge victorious was the singular desire of every Dark Angel. But he was reminded by Lucius's words that these were not his brothers. Though they had shed blood together and triumphed over enemies they were not the very first chapter created by the Emperor. Like so many other things in the Empire, the old ways were the best ways - though thousands of attempts were made to improve, the gifts of the Emperor were without equal. That resolved it - without the strength inherit in the geneseed of the Dark Angels, he could not commit to a frontal assault. He would check his pride and his desire to show up the Confessor's forces - and reserve strength in case they had to fight for the acquisition of Ironbound. Finally, Cassiel nods. "Very well, Lucius. I see your point of view. While I have personal preferences that would lead me another direction, I have decided we will use your plan. I prefer to build a consensus, and while the final decision is mine and mine alone, I agree with your logic and I appreciate your experience with this foe. We have a plan, now what oath shall we swear to see it done?

Lucius hated to admit that the Dark Angel surprised him. Resigning to the consensus rather than demanding his orders be followed was a true sign of leadership. The Novamarine respected that - regardless of the "mine and mine alone" comment. Commanding a mixed unit was never easy, after all.

Lucius placed his fist over his breast plate in salute. "I appreciate your ear and follow your lead, brother-sergeant."

Once the plan was explained to Donovan, with an emphasis being put on not committing the entirety of site 3's assault force until the flanking elements were in place, Lucius awaited the Lieutenant's response to his earlier query.

Donovan responds in kind to Khol while listening to the banter between Cassiel and Lucius.

"A pleasure to meet you, M'lord. I am officially, lieutenant Morias Donovan of the Brentonian 442nd. Ranking junior officer in Hessax. I think my official tittle is 'Blonsky's little bitch' but its not in my file anywhere." he says with a smirkish grin.

This guy certainly was an anathema, on one hand, he was vulgar and condescending, on the other he was respectful and formal...you suppose its what made him a perfect link between the upper command and the common guardsman.

It was obvious, however, that he was sensing a conflict between Cassiel and Lucius, no matter how little he was actually seeing.

Donovan cheery face darkens, "All the special operatives died luring the xenos in Tyralos. Storm Troopers, officio assassins, veteran soldiers. Almost all of them. I have 4 veterans who were brought here for treatment before Tyralos was blown. They're still on the mend, but they've been the ones overseeing the training of the squads hitting site 4. They're unable to do any heavy lifting, but no doubt they are with the squads they've been assigned to."

He turns to one of his attendants, a man with a heavy vox caster on his back. "Call Tally, Kareem, Otho, and Steggo here."

The man nods and speaks the call into the handheld receiver.

Within moments, you are approached by the 4. There were 3 men and 1 woman. There were all bandaged and wounded in some way. The man 'Steggo' moved around with the help of a single crutch. Tally had bandages covering much of her skin, but what skin could be seen was clearly burned. Kareem's hair was matted and patchy, bandaged over his head and his left eye as well. Otho had a hasty bionic arm mending in a sling.

"Sir?" they ask after showing you the devotions that almost all the imperials made in your direction.

"This Astartes, ah...." he staggers as he realizes he had no names for any of you, "has requested to speak to you. "

Lucius thanked Donovan and moved to meet the others, waving down any salutes if they are offered.

"Well met. Before proper introductions are made, I would like to speak with you and your four squads. I believe my expertise in killing Tyranids could prove invaluable to you in the coming fight. If you can put that call through the vox now, let's find a place to muster."

When the call was given, he moved with a purpose among the veterans, letting them lead the way.

The veterans' squads were a varied bunch, made up of the most rugged and nonconforming of all the guardsmen regiment at Hessax.

They stand at attention and in a line, ready for inspection, what was not expected, was that an astartes/member of the ordos would be doing the inspections. This instilled something akin to fear in the troops. Lucius could see fear behind masks of determination. Some were shaking ever so slightly. Was this awe? fear? or some amalgamation of both?


***

The activity starts to die down as the troops prepare for the last sleep cycle before the assault upon waking. Many decide sleep is the best thing to do, sleeping in and on top of the chimera's that would carry them into the unknown. For many others, this would be the last time to intake vast quantities of cheap amasec before their certain doom.

Elsewhere, the chimera was still being prepped to carry Ambrose, the servitors didn't complain about the had work or the long hours.

Towards the far end, the Confessor was holding a mass-praising the emperor for their holy mission and the chance to wreak vengeance for the eccliesarchy shrine worlds that were simply snacks for Dagon.

You were left to you own devices, to prepare for tomorrow in your own, unique ways.

Lucius stood at rigid attention, looking over the assembled troops. He spoke without the aid of his power-armor's ancient vox amplifiers. He understood how men and women responded to Astartes. His goal was not to intimidate.

He took in a deep breath through his nostrils. The dual sets of genestealer scars that ran from his forehead, over his eyes, and down to his chin flinched with the movement. Large, golden orbs that stood out against the ornamental blue tattoos covering his skull met those who stood rigid before him, but they were kind and accepting. While he may not be able to empathize with how they felt, he could sympathize easily enough.

He removed his hands from behind his back and held them up for all to see - easy enough as he stood at least a head and shoulders taller than the largest of the group.

"Men and women of the Guard, at ease."  He relaxed his stance as he said this, a physical gesture to reinforce his words.

"I have heard a lot about you lot; your deeds, combat actions, sacrifices. You have met the Tyranid in the field and shed blood - both its filthy ichor and your holy Emperor's own. You have sweat, cried, and bled for your home. Surely you look upon me and see an ocean of difference; but I am here to tell you that I am not so unlike you. I too have bled, sweat, and wept for my brothers. I am Brother-Sergeant Lucius Vorenus of the Novamarines, Tyrannic War Veteran who served on Macragge with the Ultramarines and Guilliman's own First Company themselves. I have made the Tyranids pay for every inch of ground they have ever attempted to take in my presence."

He strode forward, displaying the Beast of Thule proudly displayed on his shoulder plate, the scars criss-crossing his face, the necklace of gigantic teeth that hung gently over the Iron-Skull Honors. His fingers tapped against the hilt of his chainsword, customized by Makrodon previously with the ultrahard claws from the Beast of Thule itself.

He smiled. It was warm and inviting. It was comfort and confidence that knew no bounds.

"I intend to make sure that before you depart tomorrow, you know exactly how to make the bastards pay for every injustice they visited upon you and yours. It will be a quick lesson - as you need your sleep; but if you pay attention, I assure you you will earn the Emperor's eye when the battle begins."

+++

Lucius knew the veterans needed their rest. It was paramount for mortals and he had no intention of keeping them up late into the night. He knew decentralization of command was key; Tally, Kareem, Otho, and Steggo would assemble NCOs beneath them and be personally educated by Lucius. Lucius would give much more general advice to each squad separately. And then it would be on the NCOs to ensure his tactics were used when necessary.

Decentralization of command was absolutely necessary to ensure that success in battle was attained when the centralized command eventually dropped the ball - which they would. It was nearly inevitable.

He broke down the tactics that had served him so well in the past. He explained how krak grenades and ordnance from launchers could be placed to maximum lethality at certain spots in Tyranid carapace. He explained how to defend against swarm tactics that the devourer would inevitably use - a buddy system for overlapping zones of coverage, fragmentation grenades, and constant heavy weapons support. Finally he explained the most effective way for attacking a swarm - weapon placement and specific targets.

When he finished each of his three lessons, he made the NCOs repeat them to him. [Bestowing the knowledge of his TWV talents: Bulwark, Grenadier, and Slaughter the Swarm very generally onto them]

After an hour, he had the NCOs break and return to their units.

"This is the most practical knowledge I can bestow upon you with such little time. But let's make this interesting - the squad with the most kills tomorrow will earn a place of honor for eternity in the saga of the Novamarines. Your names will be enshrined in the Libris and here," he tapped a space of his skull free of tattoos.

"The Emperor and the Astartes will be beside you tomorrow. This is your planet. You are the veterans. You will take it back from the filth that has stained it."

He saluted the assembled veterans and stayed around to speak, pray, and encourage any who would require him.

Albrecht finds himself a quite spot away from the hustle and bustle of the preparations for the push, away from his brothers none of whom had a faith like his in the Emperor. It was time to pray.

Hours passed and Albrecht didn't move an inch from his kneeling position. He prayed in silence for his own personal glory in the fight to come, he would set an example to his brothers how one with proper faith fought. Albrecht was not selfish though as he also prayed that glory was brought to Draco. Even the witch, his brother Bleda. Finally his prayers turned to the litanies of hate, hours passed as he wrapped his heart and mind in hatred and revilement for the xeno.

An audible "Praise be" signaled the end to his spiritual preparations, he then went about more mundane routine checking and the double checking his war-gear.

Cassiel, too, had need of quiet solitude. After he dismissed Draco to do as they wished until the battle he also finds a chapel to reflect quietly. There are no litanies of hate or fevered cries to the Emperor - instead it is quiet mediation - asking for nothing but only listening - to his heart, his mind, and any faint whispers of his duty to his chapter and the Emperor. After hours in silent contemplation, Cassiel is satisfied that they are doing what is right. He clicks over to the Sqaud Vox, "Makradon, see if you can establish contact with the ship and determine their orbit. Let's see if we can coordinate any bombardment to assist our forces prior to the operation."

The men and women hung on Lucius' every word, and obeyed all his recommendations to the utmost of their abilities. Lucius was proud of what the enthusiasm they exhibited.

The veteran sergeants, were noticeably more dour, but just as resolute. Having been at Tyralos, they knew just the kind of unbearable fight the xenos could bring to bear.

When sent off for the last sleep cycle before battle, they were smart (or maybe dumb) enough to grab as much sack time as they could manage.

***

Albrect's long hours of prayer, meditation and supplication did little to quiet that nagging voice that was always present in his head. The one that had been there since then, and the same one the master chaplain, Ramier told him to put to rest.

The only thing he was aware of, was that once in the thick of battle, such thoughts were lost in the pursuit of reclaiming said honor.

***

Cassiel thought long and hard. He had a special duty to carry out, and he was ever closer to that goal. He would not relent, would not falter-this duty would guarantee his ascension into the next inner circle. Once there, he could truly do the Primarch's work.....

***

Khol spent much time with the guardsmen, drinking their awful rotgut-amasec and ingratiating him among the ranks. For the normally austere raptors chapter, he was unnaturally outgoing and personable among non astartes humans. Even donning carapace instead of the hallowed power armor somehow made him feel more human to them. Still, he had to make sure they got a decent amount of rest, what good would it do to protect the men and women if a hangover got them killed instead.

***

Makradon was unable to contact the ship, but it was inconsequential as they were in a prime position in orbit a mere 3 hrs later.

"Draco? this is captain Tomoi. Status report?"

"Greetings Captain Tomoi. Target location has been identified. Draco will be joining a full scale sally into fortified positions with local guard units. Additional assets in the field have expressed an interest in target."