Chapter 5.2 - Ironbound - IC

The major's slip of tongue into "everyone" gets Bleda were interested, Hydrako caught the info first, but Bleda comes in a good second.

"Has there been others here, looking for the Ironbound?"

Lucius remained silent for the time being. The major's insistence that no one search for Ironbound was not necessarily odd, given the circumstances. However, the slip that Hydrako had caught hadn't escaped the Novamarine either.

Clearly, Ironbound was of some worth - and to multiple parties. That, or the Inquisitor had multiple assets looking for Ironbound to ensure success. Either way, the plot had just unintentionally thickened.

He had noted some ways to improve the defenses of the hive before the counter-attack; he would hold onto them until the major provided some answers.

Bolinsky raises an eyebrow, "You dont know? so that means there are different groups looking for this one guy?"

"Yes, shortly after the xenos flooded the area with their filth, an orbital lander dropped off a largen contingent of eccliesiarchy forces. A lerge contingent of sisters and equipment from the order of the valorous heart, Frateris militia, and all under the command of a confessor Richeliu. Its no secret."

he gets quiet for a moment to consider his options.
"What makes Ironbound so important?"

Seraphan frowned, glad his face was obscured by his helm, looks like the Ordos had dropped them into the middle of something more than just a xenos incursion

The apothecary looks at the Major "In certain situations Major, the more you know the more danger you are in - it is obvious powerful people want this man and that will have to do in the way of explanations - if you have information supply it, if you don't let us get back to the work of killing xenos and keeping your men alive."

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Iron and Metal wrote:

"Brother Ambrose, we have some time before we reach our objective. I would appreciate it if you could regale me with tale of your exploits - perhaps the most difficult battle you have come out of or foe bested?"

Ambrose searched his withered memory for a tale that would satisfy Lucius.

"It is with great sorrow that I admit much of my memory has been lost to the slow passage of time and decades spent in stasis, captain." An awkward, heavy silence falls over the two of them as they march for a few moments. "But there is one battle that I suspected will be etched into my consciousness until the last of my days. My final hours in my full mortal frame...that which was stolen from me at the hands of the savage orks, the Goffs."

"My company was holding the line against a unending tide of the green xenos on a forge world...the name escapes me. We held a defensive position inside the broken remnants of a vast factorum. My heavy bolter quaked with fire for hours on end, stemming the hordes in a glorious slaughter as they charged our makeshift ramparts. Three of my brothers remained...guarding my flanks with bolter and chainsword from those who would attack from the rear."

"Out of nowhere...a blinding light. Pain..." Ambrose's mechanical voice falters. It is clear that it is hard for the venerable hero to admit to the pain he endured. "...pain the likes of which I had never endured, have never since known, and likely never will again. Some sort of crude cannon. A slug the size of a small child...punched through my abdomen. It knocked me backwards, and I mustered what little strength I had to crawl into the cover of a meager corner of rubble, where two walls had met in the factorum. Blood gushed from the massive hole in what remained of my core."

Ambrose pauses. His voice is as soft as it can be, given that it is amplified by large speakers. His tone is gentle and anguished.

"Consciousness escaped me. I know not how long I remained in the dark. When I came to, my wound had stopped bleeding, but I knew that death was quietly approaching. Every sluggish heartbeat slowed to an eternity. Slowly, my senses slipped back to me. It was quiet. I cannot say whether this was because the battle was over, or in a lull, or because my hearing was dulled. All I could hear was a grunt of pain from one of my brothers on the other side of the cover accompanied by the howling, taunting laughter of a greenskin. A cursory glance revealed that my sidearm had somehow slipped from its holster. My only armaments were a string of three krak grenades and a combat knife."

"I willed myself to my feet, the blessed machine spirit of my power armor - what little remained - aiding me in this task. Standing up alone felt like lifting a Land Raider. I staggered around the corner. I saw the bloodied remains of two of my brothers, lying dead among a sea of greenskins in the same state. My bolter lay on its side atop a heap of rubble next to the pool of dried blood, some twenty feet away. One brother remained, lying on his back and fumbling for a chainsword just out of reach. A large gash crossed his chest and left arm. And then there was the beast himself..."

"Not four feet before me stood a massive greenskin, nearly four feet taller than myself. He was clad in thick, crude armor on his front, arms and legs...but a portion of his back remained exposed. Wielding a chainaxe the size of a mortal man, he moved slowly toward my downed breathren. He was clearly drunk on the euphoria of battle, howling in delight. As I stumbled forward, he glanced behind him. A look of glee crossed his face as he acknowledged my presence. "Oi....'nother umie!"

"Blood slipped from my lips. I had distracted him momentarily...perhaps I could save my brother if I continued to do so. "Yeah....and by the emperor..."

The beast laughed and turned toward my brother again. "Tha bleedah's next!" He lifted the axe above his head for the killing blow. He was within striking range.

"...another dead ork." In that moment, I swear on my honor that the Emperor smiled upon me. Energy returned to my limbs in a manner I would not have thought possible. Lunging forward, I brought my full weight to bear against the vile alien. He staggered forward, tripping over a twisted metal beam on the rubble-strewn floor. We toppled to the ground in unison as he roared in anger. My brother staggered to his feet grabbing his chainsword and looking on in confusion. Moving quick, I unlatched a string of krak grenades from my belt and placed them against the exposed portion of his hide. Next, I drove my combat knife through the a ring on one of the grenades, pulling the pin on the other. I grunted a yell to my fallen brother. "Run." The alien roared again in pain, scrambling at his back and leaping to his feet."

"The last I can remember is a blinding light. When I woke up...I was but a sarcophagus, fated to remain within my iron tomb."

The major was clearly annoyed by Serephan's statement.
"Fine, keep your secret. I am only concerned with my agenda here. He lays his pointed finger down on the map."

"....and here is where our paths are in alignment. You want Ironbound? Fine. He's out there, somewhere. Holding out against roving tyranid scum. You can brave the black Sea if you dare, or you can assist in my invasion. Once we establish a beach head, you can look for your man. What say you angels of death?"

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[With The Venerable Dreadnaught]

Lucius took it all in. Every word; every ancient detail; every syllable. Even with everything he had experienced, and all of the battles he had been in, the ancient's story gave him goosebumps. Even though he had committed the details to memory, he made sure to record Amrbose's transmission. Later, he would break down the details - recreate the total defense, approximate ammunition spent, approximate dead enemy and battle brothers. He would scour the archives of the Deathwatch Librarium, find records of this battle, and recreate it in as much detail as possible, citing Ambrose as a primary source. Thus, the Libris would expand and his Chapter would be further tactically and strategically informed.

But for now, he was simply enthralled.

"Defense wins wars - spraying the enemy with overlapping fields of heavy bolter fire until the last round. Crippling the enemy leadership with your last act, Brother Ambrose, that is the wish of every Astartes to don power armor. With your permission, I would add the story of your sacrifice to a very important text for my Chapter."

Of course, he would respect Ambrose's wishes one way or another.

+++

[In the Command Center]

"Speaking of your agenda here, I have some tactical ideas that I believe will benefit your push forward and help strengthen defenses here for any future Tyranid pushes to take the lower hive." Lucius pressed on, pointing to various points on the outer walls of the hive. "Taking out synapse creatures is key to breaking 'Nid resolve as we all know. The faster you can do it the better. Here, here, and here, I recommend setting up krak teams and las-cannon teams. They will be more exposed this far out, but that means they will be able to handle the synapse creatures much sooner. Here, here, and here, however, you can place teams - either heavy bolters, preferably with metal-storm ammunition, or anti-aircraft flak emplacements to provide perfect cover for your forward heavy teams. When the Tyranids move on them, which they will, these rear teams will be able to chew them to pieces."

He didn't offer an opinion on how to proceed. The Tyrannic War Veteran in him wanted nothing more than to push forward with the guard here and take back what was rightfully the Imperium's from his hated enemy. But the Astartes Sergeant in him knew that the mission was of primary importance.

He was eager to see if Cassiel would consult the squad or make the decision for them.

Cassiel smiles. "We are never given the luxury of just a single mission, Commander," Cassiel replies as he considers the traitorous legions and his resolve on that front, "and breaking this invasion is a key component. Since we have been planet side, we have been taking the fight to the enemy and we have been winning. I commend you, sir, for your courage. Huddling in our strongholds is not how we will retake the galaxy, nor is it how we will retake the planet. We will aid you, but we will do so in our own way as much as we possibly can. Please note, our aid is considerable and that is not braggadacio. Please, explain to us how you believe we will do the most good. We will consult and work with you to ensure we work to our full potential." Cassiel knew his team and knew they would need to keep moving - taking a position might be something they would do, but holding it would have to fall to the guard. Keep moving...that was the key.

Albrecht had been quiet for some time, content to wait until the kill team chose a course of action. He moved to stand with the major at he mentioned there were others seeking Ironbound, the eccliesiarchy no less.

"Major, where are confessor Richeliu's forces now, do they prepare to move with your attack?"

As far as Albrecht was concerned the eccliesiarchy leadership could be as self serving as the inquisition, so if they got in the way of Draco securing Ironbound he would not hesitate to use force. He hoped it would not come to that though as many innocents would die. There would only be victory for Draco in this.

"The Confessor's conclave are at the staging area. Fortunately for you, he has deigned not to join in the initial invasion, so that he can bring over his heavy equipment on barges."

You can tell the major is not happy about that. Battle sisters and whatever equipment the confessor had would help incredibly in the siege.

"At the time, the only was for us humans to cross the black sea is in chimera transports, which we have in ample supply" he finishes proudly.

"You have done well. We have been to several hives, and yours appears to have been the best defended. Not only that, you are the only one that has made preparations for the necessary offensive. Your tactical success will be recorded and disseminated throughout the Imperium." In his mind, Cassiel is wondering how much was the result of the commander and how much was Ironbound's contribution. Finding that out might reveal a lot about who Ironbound really is. "May we review your datasheets regarding deployments and orders since the siege began?"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, brother captain"
He says, unaware that Cassiel was not a captain rank.
"But you may see the personnel in any case."

He motions towards the crowd and whistles, after a moment a young boy, approx 9-12 weasels through the advisors. He was wearing oversized guard fatigues, and looks almost comical in them. "Go and fetch a copy of the personnel records. Quickly."

The boy falters, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the Giants he stood before.
"Now!" The major says, more sternly.

He snaps into action, disappearing into the crowds once again.

"You'll have to forgive the men. Most of them have never seen warriors of legend. Even having the blood drinkers on the planet gives them hope, spurs them on to feats that I can only be too proud of."

After a moment, the boy returns back with a data chit. He hands it to the major and the major hands it to Cassiel.
"Getting to know the men you will be accompany into battle?" He asks.

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Cassiel reviews the data chit, then hands it to Makradon for further review. He knew Makradon would be able to run an algorithm against other data points the team had accumulated for insights. "This is helpful, but doesn't answer my direct question. We are here, which you did not expect. If you could use us in any way you sought fit, what would that be? How would you deploy us?" Imperial Guard didn't usually get the chance to deploy Space Marines in their formations - the Space Marines were the undisputed masters of tactical deployment, but cooperation between the units was also important. Draco couldn't deploy to peak function without knowing the units that would be in play around them.

Albrecht was disappointed at the Majors words, clearly this confessor did not know his duty - he had an army he should have been at the fore front leading the guard into battle. Setting anexample for the troops "Major - how long do we have until the assault?" he then immediately switches to squad vox "Cassiel, I would speak to this confessor if we have time."

The major paused. He was at a loss for words.
"I must confess brother captain that I have no idea where you could best be utilized. I know little of your abilities or what weapons you bring "
He points to his map, and the spot closet to his planned ingress.
"First, we must secure this outpost, it's closest to the edge of the black sea. There are 5 planned routes we will simultaneously invade from. Site 1 is the shipping port. It's not big, but it will make the influx of further equipment easier to accomplish. It's also furthest east, and should be the most lightly defended. Site 2," He says, moving his finger towards an x to the west of site 1, "is a strip of coast that should allow us into the outpost on the west flank. Site 3," He said, moving his finger towards the middle ground, "is site 3. This is the most direct route, and we expect it to be the most heavily defended. Four is over here," He says, moving further west, "has a natural defense in the form of high cliffs. It, like two, will allow us to entrap the outpost in a pincer motion. The last," moving west to the last one, "is a penesula the we need to secure in order to protect the flanks."

All in all, it was a daring and bold plan. The planned counterinvasion would be along a 80km stretch. The outpost itself encompassed about 1000km^2 and would take much manpower to retake, but it's position and utility made it the natural priority target.

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"Adeptus Astartes are the best rapid strike shock troopers in the galaxy, Major. If we were to engage, hitting the location with the heaviest defense just prior to the main force arriving would deal the most damage. The obvious problem is that redepployment in a quick manner will be difficult, even for those of us equipped with jump packs."

It was all the more reason to hit the most well defended area, really.

Hydrako looked at the map and took it all in. After being silent for so long, his input was almost startling. Securing the flanks should be the first objective. If we hold a more mobile force in the center, but refrain from engaging, the xenos will keep this larger force in the center to ensure that it can beat our forces if we were to attack. This would allow us to tie up bioforms without engaging them. The mobile force will act as support for the flanking forces rather than the assault force, and attack when the enemy begins to shift units as reinforcements. Positioning artillery and long range support units at site four will enable us to bombard the defenses from relative safety. If they can bombard site three we can weaken it. They will be protected on the high ground. Using heavier units on the flanks will enable us to breach either of the defenses an pour in, drawing defenders away from other fronts to reduce pressure on our forces. The mobile force will be able to support either front where the defenses are not breached and add weight to the attack, keeping xenos defenders busy while the break-in force wreaks havoc.

Makradon quickly takes the data chit and begins to analyze it as quickly as possible, which for him amounted to the blink of an eye. He does his best as well to try and gather all the information before him and come up with something to add to the discourse...

"Based on my calculations, there will be lots of space. Bringing the chimera's in via a staggered, wide-front formation will reduce friendly casualties when they hit resistance. It would be most unwise to approach in a convoy-like fashion."

"I'm sure we all have ideas about how best to approach the problem, but the most important thing is a clear chain of command. As long as the men trust in their leaders, all will go well. We will consider how we may play a role in your upcoming assault. Before we commit to any course of action, however, we must speak with the Confessor. Is she available?"

Bleda seemingly studies the Imperial Guard major without speaking a word. It seems like his eyes look past the flesh and into the very soul of the human before him. All in silence.

"He is down at the staging ports on the lower south hive. No doubt inspecting the loading of his equipment on transport barges."

He stands up straight, suspecting you would now go see the confessor.
"I will send the word that you will have the authority to change orders once on the ground, but I ask that you notify the appropriate platoon leaders or myself. Especially on major changes, as a measure of professional courtesy."

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Seraphan turns to Cassiel, he remained silent studying the information being provided, he would defer to those who had experiance dealing with the xenos on this scale of warfare and go where needed

"The Confessor - I would like to speak with him, his troops would be well used under the same chain of command - I feel I might be well suited at securing that."

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"He is down at the staging ports on the lower south hive. No doubt inspecting the loading of his equipment on transport barges."

He stands up straight, suspecting you would now go see the confessor.
"I will send the word that you will have the authority to change orders once on the ground, but I ask that you notify the appropriate platoon leaders or myself. Especially on major changes, as a measure of professional courtesy."

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"Its well to see that this Ironbound does not distract you from your purpose, major." Bleda tells the human. "We will see to xenos and human alike." Bleda was somewhat taunting the human now but it would service its purpose.

“Major, before our team figures out our next step regarding ironbound - anything else you can tell us about him will be infinitely helpful. Is he human? Astartes? Xenos?”

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The major nearly balks at that last question, before coming to the conclusion it was a joke of some sort.

"Xenos...I.....ahem. you don't mean to ask if....forgive me lord if I misunderstand your humor. He is certainly human, though he's I'll disciplined and lack of respect for authority, I'd hate to call him a soldier."

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Lucius' face was stone cold. "If you have ever dealt with the Eldar, you would know that they can be uncanny when it comes to imitating human beings. But it is good to know that we are dealing with a human."

"Thank you major. Your cooperation is appreciated and we will certainly respect your chain of command before modifying or issuing orders. Your plan appears to be well thought out and I don't expect any major disruptions barring tactical necessity. All plans are subject to modification in the face of the enemy, after all." Cassiel barks audibly. "Draco, prepare to move out. We're going to visit with the Confessor. Seraphan, you're on point for getting there and talking with him."

Makradon sits still for quite a while longer than expected before lifting his helmed head up.

"Apologies, but there are hundreds of thousands of names and too much data to siphon through as quickly as I thought. It would take hours to sift through everything..."

Bleda is silent and ready to move out.

With that, the major gives you a crisp salute. "May the emperor light your path. "

And you move towards the ports....

With your new proxemity, you get a closer look at the black sea. The first thing you notice is the stink, it was clearly man-made and stunk to holy terra of pollutants and waste products. While it was made from a variety of crude oils and promethium byproducts, it did not stick and clump. Rather, it flowed off whatever surface it was on, leaving a slick residue behind.

When you arrive, you find the staging port ablaze with activity. Hundreds of chimera transports sit in the black goop that was loosely called a "sea"
Looking out you can just make out the opposite shore some 50 km away across a field of black. Waves bucked against the docks, but they were small, paltry things indeed.

Men and sentinel loaders move out of your way, and either bow, make the sign of the Aquila or salute. Shortly after you arrive, a man followed by a few lackeys approaches you. He was a veteran guardsmen whose face had a hideous scar running from his temple to his jaw. Bleda wondered what story the scar had, all scars had a story to tell, according to the principals of his founding legion, the white scars.

"The major told me that I should expect you." He said with a starstruck grin on his face. "I'm Lt. Donovan, and I'll be the one leading this operation." He offers his hand in greeting, and it looks comical when you take it, like the ancient dolls that fit inside one another. He stops when he gets to Ambrose. He stares at the solid slab of Ceramite and death for a second, decided in that shaking his "hand" might not be the wisest decision.

"He also told me that you would be joining us? The men are be pleased to hear it. You won't find any cowards in my outfit, nossir. The 442 is fit and ready."

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When the Lt. got to Khol, he clasps his hands over the officer's. As he makes a respectful amount of eye contact, Khol tries to see the mans deeds that are within him. While doing so, he gives what would feel like a firm shake for the Lt. but would otherwise be nothing for an Astartes.

For some reason, Khol felt he should take the initiative for this occasion.

"Yes we are. And glad to hear about the squaddies, Rodney. We wouldn't want disorganization hap'n too soon., nœw would we?", the response sounded like veteran guard humor. Khol's experience on fighting along side & leading the Guard is extensive because of his chapters ideology.

He releases his grip and oddly enough goes into a relaxing stance while continuing his interaction with the officer,  "Before we step off, we would like to see a particular... snowdrop. A snowdrop that goes by Confessor Richeliu. And if able, can you show us the way Lt.?"

He smiles, "Ah, confessor Richeliu."
he makes the sign of the Aquila out of fear of divine retribution for his slight.

"You will find him and his adeptus sororitas cohort way down there, at the other end of the dock."

Without anything else, you head towards the end of the dock where the LT had pointed you.

Soon enough, you find it....

It, like the rest of the docks was full of men and equipment preparing for the soon to be invasion. Here, it was no mere volunteers pf guardsmen following orders. It was frateris militia, servitos and other zealots loading crates onto large barges.

The sisters you pass were not like the measly humans who had deferred to you with reverence. They stare at you icy cold as you pass, but no salutes, signs of the aquila, or anything else to show that they acknowledged you. You find one lone man stock still in the midst of the bustling sea.


He was monitoring the preparations, back turned to you. Next to him stood a battle sister of some importance. Her fusion backpack power supply was topper with a brazier burning brightly.

As you approach, you hear the man announce,
"Visitors. Ephruya, will you go and instruct the men to redouble their efforts, and the sisters to attend to their prayers? I will find out what our friends require."

The sister turns and walks, eyeing you coldly from the corner of her eye.

The man, however, still faces the black sea, looking passed the barges and activity to the foreboding shore in the distance.

"The major neglected to tell me he had astartes in his pocket. I should scold him greatly for his slight against the ecclesiarchy." he says matter-of-factly.

Seraphan steps forward moving closer the confessor - not quite looming over him but almost - ensuring that all present can see the winged tear drop and Inquisitoral seal upon his pauldrons.

He looks down at the Confessor before speaking
"You will do nothing of the sort Confessor - the Major did not have us in his pocket - we arrived and have joined our might to his force."

He looks about

"We are here to find out why you have not done the same Confessor? Do you plan to cower here while the brave men of the Imperium give their lives to cleanse the xenos filth from this world?"

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He turns to face Serephan. His face was hard edged and angular. His eyes widen for a moment, as if he saw something he did not expect. As quickly as that happened, he regained his composure even faster.
"Deathwatch? You astartes are so quick to point out the flaws in others and so slow to see it in yourselves."
He smiles toothily, completely unperturbed by the giant looming over him.
"There is a grand scheme to be played out here, brother apothecary, or is the correct term 'sanguinary priest'? So hard to remember names, titles and honors with you. In any case, there is a grand scheme, the guard have thier part to play, you have yours, and I have mine. My part does not warrant throwing my resources into a meat grinder that will reduce my forces to combat ineffectiveness. Do not mistake my wisdom for cowardice."

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"Then perhaps you would care to enlighten us as to what scheme is more important than stopping the xenos? What is it that when the men of the Imperium go to war against the xenos that you feel it best to horde valuable resources and troops that could be best used against the xenos?"

The Blood Angel did his best to keep this distaste and wrath from his voice - the seeming disregard the Confessor had for the Imperial Guard had annoyed him.

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Makradon scanned the surroundings to add to his records, which were piling up and in quite a need of perusal. He didn't want to let it get too out of hand, but at the same time the data made him quite content. He walks behind the others on their way towards this Richeliu, giving the same respect given to them by the sisters.

He listens to the conversation, recording it, keeping it for when it might come in handy.

Cassiel sat back, letting the Blood Angel voice the same disdain Cassiel felt but could not show. Reserving forces for a critical mission was commendable, but keeping those details secret from the Emperor's children was not. Cassiel kept a watchful eye on the Black Templar to ensure he would not erupt at the disrespect being shown to the Confessor. His experience indicated they held the ecclesiarchy in higher esteem than his own Dark Angels.

Albrecht stood looming towards the back of the group watching how the conversation between Serephan and the confessor played out. His helm was firmly in place, his templar shield held tight to his left side and his blessed power axe is held in his right hand, this was not unusual as he often kept his weapon and armour of faith in hand.

As with all institutions of the Imperium there was the good and the bad, this included the ecclesiarchy in Albrechts mind. While his knowledge of the church of the imperial creed was scant he knew that the ecclesiarchy had a chequered past where they placed their own interests above the Emperors vision - only the Black Templars and some other crusading chapters of the Astartes worshiped Him in the correct way. The war in the Jericho reach was a crusading war, even if it had stalled and as such was a holy war to Albrecht which the major and his men were persecuting. It didn't surprise him in the slightest that the confessor had his own aims, it was however a disappointment. The confessor should be leading his men and women at the front of the planned attack as a shining example to the men of the guard - giving them hope and inspiration, not lurking at the back looking after their own aims first. They were both here for Ironbound at the end of the day and Albrechts and Draco's holy work clearly trumped the confessors in the Templars view.

For now he was content to see how the confessor answered Serephans very pertinent questions.

"Thanks, Rodney.", as Khol gives the sign of Aquila in response. Then Khol breaks away. Leading the way with only his giantism as a followable marker.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Khol was not entirely too sure if he should interact with such an individual. Luckily the choice was made for him when the Confessor was being gopping, especially towards Serephan. So he decided on standing aside, wait till he's needed.

Just like most of the KIll Team Bleda hangs back and listens.

Lucius looked upon the Confessor with only slightly less distaste as he did the mutants aboard the Mortis Thule. Both were bound to beliefs that did not line up with the Emperor's own. The Novamarines knew this; similar to his Battle Brother Makradon, the Novamarine hoarded tactical and strategic knowledge which allowed them to know a little about most things. This was no different. On top of that, his Chapter revered the Primarchs nearly as much as the Emperor, and definitely did not venerate the Emperor as a God.

But he also knew how important the politics of leadership were. He too had to make decisions in his days of command that went against his own instincts and intuitions. This was no different.

For now, he was content to let Seraphan work.

"How right you are,' the cones sorry replies.
" let me just change all- wait.....where are your legions? Where are your numbers? Why isn't the deathwatch here sacrificing their lives in place of the lowly guardsmen. You have hundreds of deathwatch kill teams in the reach, but where are they? There are thousands of astartes in this very salient, yet only 2 scant companies of blood drinkers came to castobel. And instead of understanding the complexities of war on such a scale, you come and accuse me of laxity?"
His tone bordered on the incredulous.

Without fear, he steps closer to the giant that loomed over him and pokes him on the breastplate with each syllable of his next word.
"Hipp-o-crit."

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Lucius smiled.

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Seraphan looks down at the finger jabbing the aquilla on his breat plate and the thirst rises, every fibre of his being wanting to rip the arm off and feast on the blood of this creature for failing to show proper respect to the Astartes. Instead he leans down the green eye lenses level with the confessors eyes

"Two companies of Blood Drinkers die on this planet - sacrificing men and geneseed to protect this planet - working with the forces here. The same occurs all over this salient. All over the Reach. Througout the Imperium. We are here - and we have joined the Majors mission because that is how we will blunt the devourers advance - and continue to protect the Imperium, Confessor. I do hope whatever goals you seek with this army of yours is is just as worthwhile."

He stands back to his full height and states matter of factly

"And fair warning Confessor - you touch me like that again and I cannot garuntee that your arm will remain attached."

He turns to Draco but keeps his vox broadcasting out

"The Confessor obviously feels that he understands war better than us Brothers - this is a lost cause."

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Hydrako made a clicking sound as he sucked in a breath through his teeth. He watched the Confessor jab at the Apothecary's breastplate and wondered how much longer the arm would stay attached. Seraphan's rage was more unpredictable than his own at times, which was saying something, and he had expected there to be blood in the water after such an insult. He watched and waited, but after a few moments it became apparent there was to be no arterial spectacle.

"Some diplomacy and understanding is perhaps needed brothers" Albrecht chimes in over squad vox. Striding forward the Templar kneels before the confessor, placing his weapons of war to one side, he then removes his helm so he and Richeliu can speak eye to eye and what Albrecht hoped would be over some common ground. Before speaking by habit Albrecht smooths his bushy mustache.

"Confessor Richeliu, excuse my brothers forthrightness - we are only keen to see the majors offensive succeed so my brothers and I can continue on our own mission. A success that I am sure you also want to see for the Emperors glory." While never much of a talker Albrecht many moons ago was the son of a noble and some of that breeding came to the fore as he spoke. Reminding himself to speak with passion but not the fury of the Astartes which was intimidating to many.

"Yes, there are not many Deathwatch on Castobel, as there are only a few Blood Drinker companies, but then the Reach is large and the threats are many. Those of us who are here though fight the Tyranid menace. This kill team will help the major and his offensive directing our might against where it is most needed. It is our duty and for me my faith in Him on Terra that demands it. It was I who suggested seeking your aid in the offensive when we heard who did not plan to take part. I was aghast to hear such news."

"What better sight for the guard I thought, than to have your troops fight by their side giving them hope in victory and succor in their faith if they faltered? My faith in the Emperor compels me to fight, does it not you?"

Albrecht spoke with little charm but much conviction, finally he bows his head "At the very least I Albrecht of the Black Templars ask for your blessing"

Though Richeliu was pleased at the Templar's reverence, his expression of annoyance did not fade.
"Stand please, I do not require obeisance like those lesser minded priests who love the sound of their own voice more than their flock."

After Albrect does so, he continues, "It seems you have a difficult flock, a shepherds duty is never done.

"The cannoness, and myself even, have protested the situation, but the golden throne has put out a call and we have no choice but to obey. No, We will not be in the initial assault. To do so would rob us of most of the heavy equipment, and kill off those whose responsibility it is to guide those revered machinations. That does not mean, however, that we will not aid where able. As long as it does not undermine my holy mission, I will render aid where I can. That is why it's of vital importance that the docks be taken as soon as possible, so that such aid can be given."

There passed a moment of silence as he awaits Albrect's reply.

Albrecht nods solemnly "I am grateful for whatever aid you can give. Your holy mission must be of great import." While seeking the confessors aid was important for the offensive Albrecht was more interested in what this holy mission was, to ensure it didn't get in the way of Draco. If the ecclesiarchy also sought Ironbound he wante to know why. "Confessor Richeliu, perhaps the deathwatch could also aid your cause, what is it you seek on Castobel?"