"And we shall fight, and those above us shall know glory, and the Imperium shall continue."

-Imperial Guard proverb of war

Commissar Kasteriin Aldezaar walked through the hallways of the Lamnia Imperium, an Imperial cruiser in low orbit over Norix IV, headed for a meeting. This wasn't a meeting he was looking forward to. He took a lift up to deck B, landed in Block 2a, and decided to walk. He consulted a floor plan on the wall and deliberately did not take the quickest route, through Block 2e, but instead took a slower route through 2f and 3a which, he noted, were mainly comprised of offices containing rapidly meditating techpriests, busily facilitating the designs of the higher-ups.

Aldezaar passed no one in the corridors and eventually reached the meeting room in Block 4h, blatantly labeled H-21 in heavy, bold type. The door was Imperium regulation, opened by means of a flash panel to the right which scanned the implants all personnel received on their hands. Aldezaar paused a moment to think of what he was going to say, drew a blank, and placed his hand on the flash panel. The door slid open. The interior of the room was largely occupied by a long light grey table surrounded by chairs.

Seated at one end of the table was Admiral Stovan and to his sides were high ranked techpriest officials. The admiral was a large man with slightly beady eyes and a large grey moustache. The techpriests were slightly unremarkable, simply covered in mechanical implants. There was a small data pad on the table in front of one of the techpriests. There was also a recorder in a corner.

"Sit down, Commissar," said the admiral.

"Thank you sir," said Kasteriin, taking a seat away from the techpriests.

"Commissar, we would like to discuss the occurrences on Norix IV. The facility you and your squad were assigned to defend was…," the admiral paused.

"Demolished, sir," stated Kasteriin.

"Demolished. And the plans you were intended to defend were taken, presumably."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, Commissar, now that the orks have the design plans for our skiff, what do you, personally, think they will do with them?"

"Sir, I think that the orks will attempt to construct a prototype, sir. I think they will fail, sir. I am not trying to excuse my actions, sir," Kasteriin said. His mind was racing. From what he had seen of them, they were not complicated designs. There was little doubt that the orks could employ them for their own uses.

"I am sure, do y'hear me, sure that the orks can, and will utilize these plans!" the admiral shouted, "I am having trouble restraining myself from demoting you immediately, Commissar." The admiral's face was set in a grimace. "We have little choice, Commissar. We cannot afford to let those pack-rats build a fleet of Imperial skiffs, d'you understand me? They were supposed to be like the Marines' dreadnoughts with maneuverability!"

The techpriests to either side of the admiral were practically seething, Aldezaar noticed. They must've been designers. "I understand you sir. I apologize to you, sir, and to the Imperium. I do not expect a light punishment, sir," said Aldezaar, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

"Oh, you're not getting one, Commissar, that's why you're here. If I had you, I'd have you placed on a charge, but the Generals seem to like you. You're going to retrieve those plans," The admiral's eyes were gleaming, he was obviously pleased with the idea. "You're taking a squad of kasrkin and a couple techpriests back to the planet and setting up a small base," He had a malicious smile playing around his lips. "Personally, I hope you don't make it. Pick up your orders from Cyriam on your way out. Dismissed." The admiral pointed to the techpriest to his left who picked up the data pad and headed towards the door.

Kasteriin Aldezaar went to the door and the techpriest handed him the data pad. "You're assigned to Barrien Valley," said the techpriest, "you will meet your squad and accompanying techpriests in the hangar bay after a sleep cycle in 16 hours. Be prepared." The techpriest walked back to the table.

Kasteriin took a lift to the quarters assigned to him on the data pad. All the quarters were the same. No one was ever in one place long enough to bother changing the décor. For example, all personal quarters had a bed set against the wall farthest from the door, they all had a dresser containing two of each uniform, uniforms were stored according to rank, and only personnel of the appropriate rank could open the appropriate drawers. The washrooms were all in the same place. And they all had a weapons rack.

The rack contained a variety of weapons, including a chainsword, a hellgun, plasma pistols, a long-range lasgun for kasrkin who did not carry their own, a grenade launcher and a plasma sword. All guardsmen had a lasgun as a sidearm and were unable to take down the power sword, as it was reserved for fully-equipped officers. Other guns like flamers, meltas and sniper rifles were specially assigned and granted at mission launch. Officers who were granted use of power fists carried their own. Usually soldiers were assigned weapons they would bring on a mission, but Kasteriin was granted use of whatever weapons took his fancy.

Kasteriin chose a plasma sword, a hellgun for armor-piercing bullets and his sidearm. He had two combat knives, one strapped to his arm and the other to his waist. He would have to see what he could do about obtaining a power fist. He had always wanted one of those. They were hydraulic powered gauntlets in disruptive energy fields, and merely to have one was a mark of status. He placed the weapons he had chosen on the dresser, stripped to his underlayer and went to sleep.

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"General, I hope your trust in him as a commander is well-placed. I for one do not think so highly of him." The speaker's voice was strained, as if they were trying not to shout.

The second speaker was calmer, "Nonsense, he has served us well, you know the Commissariat selects them from youth. He was given an impossible mission, and you are so quick to judge him?"

The voice was tense, "Sir, with respect, you could have given him a less fundamentally important impossible mission."

"I still have confidence in him. Regardless, if he fails, the orks will rush in with our design. Surely you recognize the flaw." The speaker spoke slowly and deliberately, as if weighing every word before they said it.

"Of course sir, we've built it, so we know what to combat it with, but nonetheless, sir, you can't possibly have enough confidence in him to send him in alone!"

"He won't be alone, he can request forces as he likes. I'm sure he won't squander them."

"Sir, I would like to volunteer."

"Are you sure? A moment ago you were making it out to be a suicide mission."

"Sir, I live for suicide missions. I just felt uncomfortable with him in charge."

"Get used to it. There might be promotions in this for both of you. Anyway, the plans wouldn't do the orks much good."

"Sir?" Puzzlement hung tangibly in the air.

"They're incomplete. We kept the three sections separate, two were captured, but one was saved. The only thing I'm worried about is if the orks decide to try and make it run by themselves."

"You could have given me complete information."

"It's truly a pity the orks invaded so quickly."

"Sir, you're avoiding the subject."

"Just convince me you're classified to know all this. We're not even telling the admirals. I'm only telling you because I'm not sure how much clearance you have in the temple, and because you're going."

"If I don't convince you, sir?"

"We'll get the psykers to mindwipe you. It won't take long."

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