Note:

Some of the alternate universe stuff will be coming in this chapter. For reference a lot of units from Supreme Commander are huge compared to their Warhammer counterpart. To keep things realistic, most Subcom units will have comparable size proportions to units from Warhammer. This isn't meant to balance the two universes, its mostly just for realism's sake.

Not that either universe really cares about realism.

I'll usually point out size proportions, what kind of armament a unit uses, stuff like that but for reference most Supreme Commander units will usually have an equivalent in size to something from the Imperium.

Except for experimentals of course.

I'm working on an a side chapter for unit descriptions as well.


"I'z da fastest ork!" roars a bikerboyz, revving his bike urging it to go faster. The bike eagerly responds throwing its rider out in front of the mob, kicking up dust adding to the cloud concealing the barely coordinated mob of Bikerboyz.

"No I'z 'da speediest ork!" shouts another, the bike throttles forward, the barbed spikes sticking out from the wheels gouging a nasty gash into the other boyz bike, producing a horrid screech of metal on metal.

"Oi! ya ruin'n me ride!" The first ork snarls. "Ya try'n ta fight!"

"Oh i'll showz yer a fight!" Reving a challenge to the offender, the second ork made to gouge the offender's bike.

"Oi! yer two gits quit yer screeching!" Starfang booms over the thrumming engines of the Warbikes, interrupting the two before they could kill each other. "Unless ya want ta 'plain ta 'da warboss how ya ruin yer bikes!"

The two orks shrank in on themselves at the thought, angering the Warboss would be a death sentence, the last ork to challenge the boss had his skull mounted the Warboss's ride, and a dead ork couldn't fight.

"We're almost ta where 'da weirdboyz said 'da light showz was." He urges his bike forward for emphasis."Den ya kan have all da fight'n' ya want!"

The rest of the unruly band explodes at the news, increasing their speed, causing their dust cloud to billow outward. If the swarm of bikerboyz hadn't been spotted before they would be now.

"Starfang!" Crys a smaller, more cowardly ork at the front of the mob, "'der be tanks on 'da horizon!"

Starfang squints barely able to see through the cloud of dust, it thins enough for the boss to get a glimpse of the tanks.

Gleaming blue armor, with a rear mounted turret and two barrels jutting out, the larger barrel came out traveling the length of the vehicle dwarfing the smaller barrel belonging to the machine gun which only came a couple feet outside the turret.

And both war machines had the mob locked in their sights.

"Wot are yer wait'n for, yer nob!" Starfang roars, "Open fire!"

The two medium tanks fired first however, Starfang watches in slow motion the shells cross the distance in the blink of an eye. Each shell came crashing into the squad of bikerboyz in front of him, shattering their Warbikes like glass, the shells detonating into a burning inferno a second later.

Starfang's bike clears the black smoke, each tank standing immobile, reloading Starfang realizes.

"WAAAGH!" Starfang compresses the triggers on his Dakkaguns, the mob behind him echoes his battle cry, adding the fire of their own weapons to his own.

A wave of lead washes over the two tanks, some flattening against the armor, others ricocheting off the curve of the turret. Not to be out done the two tanks open up with their own Tom Cat machine guns.

Both vehicles slowly turn and reverse across the sand, goading the orks to pursue them. The orks sensing weakness charge forward shouting their battle cry, not caring for their own losses in the face of an enemy showing them their backside.

Unbeknownst to the orks while they charge the supposedly weak target in front of them, a dozen Mech Marines move behind the mob, waiting for them to close the distance and fall into the trap to catch them in a pincer.

Starfang drifts past the tanks lost in his own blood lust, followed closely by the more experienced bikerboyz. A handful of inexperienced Bikerboyz lost to the addictive feeling of adrenaline coursing through their veins realize too late to try and slow only to careen straight into the Strikers. Their crudely forged bikes explode upon impact immolating themselves in a crude form of missile.

The medium tanks armor buckles not made to withstand point blank suicide bombers, over the suffocating sound of gunfire and explosions a silent signal goes out.

Orks swarm around the armored vehicles, when high explosive rounds rake into the mob destroying several Warbikes and their riders in the process. Mechs Marines burst through the thick smog, thrown up by the smoking remains of Bikerboyz covering the skirmish and charge into the fray. Each Marine guided by a single intelligence zero in on their own idvidual targets, unanimously spraying down the primitives in an organized slaughter.

The still remaining orks not content with being butchered, target the newcomers, several go down to sheer volume of fire that their lightly armored chassis weren't built to handle.

Ork and mech swing around each other in a deadly dance guns blazing all the while. Bikerboyz are riddled with high caliber rounds killing them instantly, without their master the bikes careen out of control to their doom.

One ork's bike clipped by another's explosion, spins out of control straight into the already weakened armor of a Striker, both explode in a plume of smoke.

The finale Striker already weakened from taking several suicide strikes, turns out of its retreat taking aim at its own targets and chips in where it can with its own machine gun.

Starfang rips through a mech the overwhelming volume of dakka cracking the mechs light armor apart destroying the processor inside.

"Yer ain't so tough ya git!" Starfang hoots as he passes the Mech Marine, the mech in question slumps forward into a pile of ruined wiring and scrap metal.

Throwing his bike into a sharp turn, thrusting himself back into meat of the fighting, several bikerboyz following in behind their boss.

The intelligence behind the mechanical force quickly deduces Starfang as the leader of the squad or so left of the orks and reorients the last Strikers turret towards the grouping of orks.

Starfang spots the tank turning towards him too late and in a futile attempt to save himself brakes as the Strikers Gauss cannon fires.

As the former boss of the Bikerboyz platoon disappears in a plume of smoke what's left of the mob's moral breaks, and they attempt to flee. A handful of stragglers break through the smoke however the second they break from the cloud Hummingbird's circling overhead mark them. Mech Marines who had mobility in spades catch the stragglers within minutes.

Some fight, they die all the same.


Farseer Taldeer sat cross-legged meditating away from the fierce blizzard that raged just outside. Taldeer's posture slackens for moment before she straightens once more, her renewed determination hidden behind her helmet.

'No' she thought grimly, 'I will not let this nuisance get the best of me.'

The presence in the warp hovering over the planet was suffocating, making it nearly impossible to make any proper divinations. Taldeer tries reaching out once more to divine the purpose behind the Titan's violent ejection from the warp. The light sensing her ill intent burned brightly protecting the Titan with its sheer presence, forces her to slink back into the confines of her own mind.

'Is this the Imperium's beloved Corpse Emperor?' she sneers in a rare show of emotions before raining in her emotions, not wanting to attract the attention of She Who Thirsts. 'Do you already sense the dark forces at work here I wonder?'

'Is this Titan your instrument against these foes?' she wonders, turning towards the door already sensing the spark belonging to her Pathfinder signaling his approach.

The Pathfinder enters and kneels, "My lady." His rifle lay slung over his shoulder, the energy weapon still shines, unfired.

'Good, then the mission went off without a hitch.' She thinks.

"Your report?" Taldeer asks.

The tiniest of a shiver racked his form, unperceivable to even the Mon-keigh's exalted Space Marines but to the senses of the Farseer, the motion did not bode well.

"The Orks did as you foresaw, Farseer, they rushed the Titan and were completely annihilated." Taldeer didn't need the warp to sense the but, "The buildings the Titan had produced on its ejection spat out machines within hours, they destroyed the Orks utterly before they could reach the Titans outpost."

Taldeer scans the Pathfinder, finding no trace of deceit, she restrains the urge to grimace.

With the forces already on planet, their mission to delay the Necron awakening, and the Chaos cult corrupting the Mon-keigh they were already stretched thin keeping the world from simply imploding in on itself.

The Titan would likely link up with the other Mon-keigh if given the chance, they're combined might would be significant. If the Mon-keigh were able to consolidate their fractured forces, it would make delaying the Necron's awakening nigh impossible.

Then there was also the corruption of Chaos that could not be ignored, less allow another corner of the galaxy be tainted.

The Titan hadn't stopped entrenching its position since its ejection from the warp, if there wasn't any restriction to the technology it would only be matter of time before the Mon-keigh trample over all their enemies. if She Who Thirsts got hold of the Titan, and there wasn't an end to the Titans ability to produce an infinite number of war machines it would make any victory against the fate of all Asuryani impossible.

This time the Farseer made no attempt to restrict the grimace, it would guarantee the end of all life in the Materium as they were crushed under the weight of a never-ending stream war machines.

'I need more information,' Taldeer thought. 'If only I could divine properly the Titan wouldn't prove such an issue…'

"Pathfinder," Taldeer finally replies, the Pathfinder still knelt loyally waiting while the Farseer gathered her thoughts. "Coerce the Orks Warboss into a war with the Titan, they will inevitably be exterminated, but it will give us the information we need to deal with the Titan and delay the threat long enough for us to achieve our goal."

That still left the Mon-keigh, if left alone they might try and reinforce the Titan. She Who Thirsts wouldn't be able to resist such a prize and would almost certainly lead to its corruption.

They would need to be dealt with, fortunately the Mon-keigh's own stupidity worked against them here. The Corpse Emperors Space Marines blind faith had already led to flaring tensions, it would take little for the Mon-keigh to fight amounts themselves.

"Stage an… incident between the Mon-keigh and their Space Marines, reveal the presence of Chaos if need be, the Mon-keigh's shall be their own undoing." Taldeer ponders for moment rolling an idea around in her head.

"Inform the Tau of the tension among the Imperium and their orders to retake the planet." The Farseer allows herself a small devious smile at her plan, "I'm sure the Tau, despite their naivety, will be able to grasp the opportunity."

A young race, still woefully inferior to the glory of all Asuryani, they would make for more than a match against which ever Mon-keigh faction survives the conflict.

The Pathfinder glances up when Taldeer doesn't continue.

"That is all Pathfinder." The Pathfinder gives a wordless nod and moves for the door to relay her orders.

Each threat would take care of itself, giving them an ample opportunity to deal with the Necron threat.

The Farseer turns back in the direction of the Titan, the blinding light was still present but had receded slightly after expanding its energy in defense of the Titan.

'It could be a powerful ally' Taldeer thought sourly, 'If the Titan could be persuaded into an alliance, with proper support there is little I suspect, it couldn't do.'

Taldeer huffs, helping the Mon-keigh left a bad taste in her mouth, but if the Titan proved capable, the blow to her ego for working with a Mon-keigh would be a small cost compared to the possible gain to all Asuryani.

"Let us see if you are as powerful as I believe, Titan." The Farseer whispers to herself, "Then we will see what you are truly capable of."


I kick the big green skinned alien over; its bottom half was scorched from the explosion that should've killed it. The xeno's eyes snap open, zeroing on my mechanical body. finally deciding to stop playing possum it lunges up with an enraged roar, the body falls back three new fist sized holes in its head.

At least shots to the head still kill them.

The Tom Cat while one of the weaker weapons in the UEF arsenal as far as most coilgun based weapons go, they aren't by any means useless. Using a system similar to gauss cannons based in most UEF armored forces, Tom Cats propel a round by magnetically accelerating it, achieving speeds that by themselves kill a baseline human.

Each round bares a likeness to the twenty-first century 12.7mm round which was popular at the time. What separates the two was the lack of necessity for chemical propellent, making room for an increase in explosive payload, resulting in a far more deadly round compared to its twenty-first century counterpart.

And the green-skinned xenos took several such rounds, that shred Cybran and Aeon armor alike, with barely a limp.

Mentally I raise the threat the xenos pose, another me, behind the Mech Marines body an engineer shoots out a lance of light at a pile of green bodies. Slowly, the pile begins dissolving, the green-skins mass being scooped up by the engineers.

Returns would be negligible but at least it would prop up losses the Mech Marines suffered. I could easily leave the rotting corpses; they would at least feed the ecosystem, but the mass would be sorely needed.

Common mistakes new commanders often made, the more reclaim you get over an opponent would be the difference between life and death.

I look over what's left of the scout force that I managed to cobble together at the last minute. Of the two medium tanks and twelve Mech Marines, only a single Striker survived and a handful of Mechs that were still mobile.

Mech Marines I could understand, their armor was trash, barely worth the mass used to make it. The Strikers on the other hand had no business taking as much damage as they did. Granted the MA6 variant of the Striker was a pre-Infinite war design, lacking in the titanium composite used in most UEF armor.

The Striker was designed to withstand early variants of the gauss cannon realistically they should've been able to take more damage, making their destruction curious.

A roar drew my attention to a xeno lifting a weapon that would've dwarfed any firearm a baseline human could carry. It moves to fire at me, correctly assuming the body I'm directly controlling.

If I was still in my body, I would've lifted an eyebrow.

One of the few Mech Marines left undamaged by the fighting, standing beside the pile of scrap bikes the xeno had emerged from, releases a burst into the green skinned alien. The xeno slumps over from its injuries but surprisingly is still alive.

'Could've gotten a shot off if he hadn't taken the time to announce his presence.' I resist the urge to snort, 'shouldn't expect intelligence from filth.'

With a thought I ping Aura, ignoring the xeno's grunting in what I imagine is the species guttural languages version of "fuck you".

'Hmmm?' Aura hums, 'You need something?'

I tune out the green skins annoying babbling, as the Mech Marine moves to stand over it.

'Were you able to translate what these… things, were saying?' I inquire.

'No,' Across the link, I feel the AI pout, 'All they do is grunt! Or scream!'

Aura sends the mental equivalent of throwing her arms up. 'it's a bunch of, waagh this, waagh that!'

The Mech Marine is about fire when I stop him, 'You want one?' I ask, sending over the mental image of the xeno clawing at the Mech Marines foot, planted firmly on its chest.

She sighs, 'I can already feel the glitch in my code.'

I snort, without a reason to keep my attention on the newly formed scrapyard, I release the connection to the Mech Marine, returning to the bird's eye view from the top of the ACU.

I give the units still there the order to return to base, making sure the Mech Marines know to bring the xeno with them.

I'm about to do the same with the engineers once they finish reclaiming the area when I stop. Instead, I order the engineers to construct a couple forward defense points. Repeater plasma cannons for land and a handful of anti-air railgun turrets, with another radar for good measure.

The first radar covers most of the continent, besides what I guess is a peninsula to the south-east.

Briefly I roam over the other groups of blips on the radar, thankfully these ones weren't steaming full speed in my direction.

'How are our neighbors?' I ask.

'Confusing.' Aura answers, obviously distracted.

A file floats across the link, upon opening it I'm bombarded with a mirage of images.

'Aura,' I groan, 'How is it that humanity finds One alien race in two centuries, but we find two in barely a day?'

'Honestly,' Aura snarks, 'With how many times we've survived situations we really shouldn't, I have a standing 1% survival rating, for how bipolar your luck is.'

I sigh, muttering a quick thank you to Aura, as the telltale feeling of painkillers floods my system, working to fight the encroaching headache.

'You got any suggestions on which we focus first?' I ask.

Distantly I register the destruction of one of the Hummingbirds, its flight getting cut short as a pair of scrap planes intercept it. The lightly armored frame of the Hummingbird shatters as large slugs tear straight through it. Though not before catching a glimpse of an army of green skin xenos infesting the forest below.

I snort, 'yeah, right anything from the Smurfs?'

'I'm detecting signatures reminiscent of armored vehicles from their city to the north-east.' Aura pauses, 'by my estimations both alien species are consolidating forces for an attack and will make contact with us sometime in the next 24 hours.'

I let out a mental sigh of relief, fighting two armies at once while still primarily at tech 1, would be suicide. If there were any significant mass deposits, spamming mobile light artillery might work.

Lobos while fragile, make up for with their cluster shells that can deal with large groups of enemies.

Thankfully that wouldn't be the case.

One mental command later the ACU reorients towards the Mass fabricator field, twin beams shooting out to construct a tech 2 power generator. Mass and energy reserves both dip, Aura helpfully pauses constructions of scouts coming out of the air factories, redirecting their mass towards my construction.

'Do we know what to expect out of the two?' I ask, as the EG 200 fusion reactor begins taking shape.

'The green skins to the south are unusually sturdy.' Aura replies, 'Based off their motor bikes, I assume their armored vehicles will be just as hardy if not more so.'

I had noticed that. Normal human made bikes would shatter from the slightest pressure, these ones took a slew of gunfire and kept going. If their vehicles followed the same trend, it would stand to reason they would be just as tough.

'And the Smurfs?' I add.

'Seismograph indicate walkers considering the ground pressure.' Aura replies, 'The readings aren't matching up with their predicted size however.'

The first tech 2 generator finishes and the mass farms surrounding the structure connect themselves to its grid, syphoning off excess energy from the structure, supplementing some of the energy cost for running them. I queue up more EG 200 reactors, while the energy fills the reserves, I start upgrading each of the factories to tech 2. Mass dips hard, but reserves should be able to tank the cost.

'You think it might be like the composite the Aeon use?' I ask, 'thin but durable armor, maybe with some shields thrown in the mix?'

'Most likely,' Aura confirms.

If I was still in my body, my face might have met the command console.

Fighting Aeon or Seraphim was universally difficult at the best of times, two to one odds was a must. The technology disparity was problematic to overcome, during the Infinite war and later the Seraphim war our only saving grace was their abhorrence to the use of kinetics, limiting their indirect fire capabilities.

So heavy armor from the green skins on one side and mobility paired with decent durability, possibly shields from the Smurfs on the other. Both are going to need their own dedicated response to deal with their strengths.

Tech 2 upgrades would take a bit, skipping straight to tech 3 while an option, wouldn't be ready in the time for the two to make contact. Then again, I wouldn't have the time to build an economy to produce a proper response.

Tech 2 would have to do.

Medium assault bots with a handful of mobile flak for potential air targets will work for the green skins. Considering how well Mongeese handle as a stopgap between tech 2 and tech 3 any extra scrap metal, will be hard pressed to keep up with its gatling plasma cannon. Flapjacks could handle most obstacles during the Infinite war any surprises from the air will be hard pressed to keep up.

Heavy tanks and mobile shield generators should work for the Smurfs, MK2 Pillars with their new improved gauss cannons will have the muzzle velocity to deal with units that specialize in mobility, I doubt the smurfs have the speed make it difficult. Parashields will be there to soak up that extra bit of damage for the Pillars, not that they need it.

That takes care of land, 'Aura any readings on Smurf flyers?'

'Negative' Aura replies, 'I have however, detected fluctuating energy signatures coinciding with estimated power levels of spaceborne naval vessels, they are operating in low orbit.'

'How many?' I mentally groan, already making contingency plans for the new threat in the event they move into position for orbital bombardment.

'There is a flotilla holding in low orbit to our west, communications have been bouncing between the xenos and the flotilla, surprisingly they haven't spotted us yet.' She pauses, 'Power signatures to our east suggest another fleet in that direction, possibility of third-party land forces is likely.

I move an air scout east in search of the third party that, with my luck, is lying in wait for the exact moment when both xenos have been dealt with.

God knows, it wouldn't be the first time.

'Aura, have the engineers finish the tech 2 power generators.' While the engineers handle power, my ACU twists slightly and starts work on a series of stealth generators scattered around the base.

Stealth gen tech had come a long way from their Infinite war days. Before the war their counterpart was little more than an advanced radar jammer. Commanders fresh out of school could pick up on jamming easily, let alone a vet. Newer stealth tech spoofs incoming radar waves, returning false info, while it didn't work on Seismographs or air dispersion sensors, it still stumped their fair share of commanders that weren't paying attention.

Several hours later one of the scouts sent east catches my attention. Looking through the spy camera on the underside of the plane, walls towered up protecting what looks to be a compound slowly coming into focus. The Hummingbird dips down close to the ground, trying to avoid any early warning systems.

The plane makes a low pass dipping its wing, without any need for a human pilot's safety, makes a tight turn curving away from the small city to survey the rest of the surrounding area. The inside of city was barely visible for a couple minutes but that was more than enough time.

'I guess your alternate universe shtick was right on the nose Aura.' I dryly note.

Men and women milled about their day, there was a stark difference between military and civilian. Clad in green plated armor the military personal stuck out against the plain clothing of the civilians who moved about their day as if nothing was wrong.

The fortress was surrounded by a network of trenches of all things, while it wasn't uncommon for UEF colonies to have planetary defense forces they were still very much a last resort. Mid rim worlds could theoretically handle attrition against a single ACU even then casualties would be immense. Given the number of hostile xenos on planet, ACUs should be swarming all over the colony.

'Unless they don't have the prototech ACUs utilize,' I thought dryly.

'This will make things… problematic,' Aura interjects.

Drawing back from the Hummingbird, the green skins were still assembling their forces and the Smurfs had set out faster than anticipated, yet they look like they're going to miss entirely.

'They're attacking the colony,' I realize.

Images flash through my mind; Capella, Phoenix II, Earth.

'Xenos,' I spit, through my link the ACU jerks involuntarily, 'they're all the same, it doesn't matter how many die so long as humanity is the one on the chopping block.'

'Can we warn them?' I ask.

'Negative,' Aura reaches across our link brushing against my mind, 'I've tuned into their communications, but they are using a language I'm unfamiliar with. The green skin you captured seems to be able to speak the colony's language though in broken words.'

It was phrased as a statement, but I could hear the question behind it.

'Do it.'

Putting the implant into the green skin was crossing a line, we would be no better than QAI but if it meant giving the colony more time to prepare even if it saved a single life, it'd be worth it.

The Pillar heavy tanks were only just starting to roll out of the factories. I had made forward point defense turrets to supplement the Pillars, to give them the edge, without the extra damage it'd be my loss.

Heavy tanks had decent speed, though not enough to catch up to the Blue skinned xeno's mechs. There'd only be a small window to catch them, with the rate at which Pillars are being produced they wouldn't have the numbers to eke out a win.

With a mental flick the air factories begin working on tech 2 bombers and gunships mixed in.

My best bet would have to be catching the Smurfs in between my own forces and the colony's. The tanks would need time to get into a good position, I'd have to rely on air forces to harass until the Pillars were in position.

'How much time do we have Aura?' I ask.

'Both threats will likely come into range roughly about the same time in the morning,' Aura replies.

As if summoned, the orange glow from the sun dips behind the horizon, bathing the base in darkness pierced occasionally by engineers tirelessly working. A wave of drowsiness washes over me, I chuckle to myself the lack of stimulants was damning.

'How long has it been since I last slept?' I thought, 'A week? Two?'

'Too long,' Aura agrees, 'sleep, I'll prepare our forces for tomorrow.'

I send the mental equivalent of a nod before disconnecting from the ACU. The stiffness in my back hits like a truck and I let involuntary groan.

'This is why I don't command in power armor,' I thought numbly. 'Wake me when they are about to come into range o-.'

'Or in case of emergency, I know' Aura interjects. 'Sweet dreams.'

I lean into the deceptively comfortable chair and close my eyes, the thrumming of the ACUs reactor lulling me to sleep.


"Sir!" The two Stormtroopers snap off salutes as Governor-Militant Alexander passes.

Alexander merely nods, doors to the command post sliding open with a hiss. Striding forward, the Governor-Militant makes his way through the tight corridors, occasionally passing officers hurriedly moving orders and information where they're needed.

The Governor-Militant passes another pair of Stormtroopers guarding a more heavily armored door blocking the entrance to the command center, the doors open into a circular shaped room with the far wall covered in monitors displaying a mirage of information. The room hums with activity, standing at the center of the room sat the tactical table surrounded by several figures.

As Alexander nears, he glances down into one of the four pits divided by the walkways leading to the Tac-map. Below dozens of Lexmechanics work like a well-oiled machine, updating every minute piece of relevant information to the Tac-map.

One of the figures hunched over the Tac-map glances up at Alexanders approach and promptly straightens to attention.

"Sir!" Alexander resists the urge to smile Anton's steadfast adherence to proper military conduct never ceasing to amuse him, as expected of a commissar.

Alexander returns the commissar's salute, knowing full well his friend wouldn't drop it until he was saluted back.

"What's the situation?" Alexander gruffly asks, effortlessly switching from Alexander, surrogate father of the 1st Kronus Regiment, to the Governor-Militant of Victory Bay whose responsibility was to return Kronus to the arms of the God Emperor.

While he scans the Tac-map, the Governor-Militant notes the green blips surrounding Victory Bay representing Imperial guard battalions stationed there. If it was possible the Governor-Militant straightened a fraction more, immediately zeroing in on the red dots advancing on the northern line of trenches protecting Victory Bay.

"The Blood Raven space marine chapter has broken our truce and destroyed some of our outlying outposts." Anton bluntly replies. "We've detected another space marine contingent advancing on the northern perimeter."

"Their forces seem to be a mix of infantry and armor." The Governor-Militant briefly glances in the direction of the tech-priest Marlin who had spoken before returning his gaze to the Tac-map. Several officers snorted at the word "infantry." The fact that Astartes 'infantry' could hardly be considered such, went unsaid.

"Have we received any communication from Captain Thule?" The question was open ended not directed at anyone, all the same the men around the table shifted uncomfortably. Looking over the assembled officers, the Governor-Militant caught several of the officers he had handpicked, stiffen in barely concealed fury.

Anton unabated by the mixed reaction leans over to whisper in his friend's ear, "Captain Thule claims we are aiding heretic cults." The commissar pauses letting his friend process the information before continuing, "I've already vetted everyone in the room they're clean."

Anton returns to his spot beside his longtime friend, stoically waiting for orders, outwardly the Governor-Militant didn't show his warring thoughts.

Silence stretched for several moments, finally the Governor-Militant head snaps up his gaze falling on an unnamed Colonel.

"Holis, take command of the northern perimeter," for a moment his thoughts drifts to the young officer he briefly spoke to and grits his teeth. "Keep the guard in reserve let the PDF take the brunt of the fighting."

Colonel Holis nods grimly, the PDF was green, barely out of training and they hadn't had the opportunity to bloody them yet, it'd be a slaughter. The experienced members from the Liberators would only have marginally better odds against the Astartes, for a similar number of casualties it'd be a waste of their experienced troops that they wouldn't be able to replace.

"Mechanicus can we expect support from your Adeptus?" tension blead into those present as tech-priest Marlin let out a string of binary communicating with his unseen superiors. While the Mechanicus was a technical part of their regiment, if they chose to remain neutral or Emperor forbid aid the Blood Ravens their defeat would be all but assured.

"You will have it." Marlin beeps, "We shall return the Hellstorm cannon to the Omnissiah no matter the cost!"

The Governor-Militant nods, careful not to let his relief show before turning to Anton. "Has our Admiral decided to grace us with his aid?" The Admiral in charge of the escort fleet in orbit was a walrus of man with the temperament of a rat, if he chose to fight it would only be at the behest of a commissar's blade.

"He has chosen to remain neutral." Anton said stoically, refusing to acknowledge his friend's obvious distaste for the Admiral.

"Unsurprising, what of the Tau, I doubt the cowardly xenos would miss out on the chance to cripple us both?"

Marlin let out a string of binary directed at one of the Lexmechanics below before turning back to the Governor-Militant. "An armored column has been detected from the west," the Tac-map zoomed out revealing a group of red dots slowly inching forward. "We expect them to attack once the victor is revealed."

Governor-Militant Alexander slowly nodded, "Tech-priest can your forces shore up the western defenses line?"

Receiving an affirmative beep from the Tech-priest in question, the Governor-Militant turns back to the tactical table briefly giving it a once over to make sure he didn't miss anything and nods to himself.

"Everyone you have your orders, carry them out." Alexander watches as his officers salute and quickly turn to their subordinates already barking out orders in preparation for the defense.

As the men around the table dismiss themselves Alexander stares at the tactical map paying special attention to the northern perimeter.

Eventually it was just Alexander standing hunched over the table, Anton standing stoic beside his friend.

"Anton." Alexander said seriously, his voice dropping an octave in a tone Anton knew too well, that same tone he always used to convey the severity of the mission he was about to give him. Missions that would need to be handled with the utmost care.

"Sir?" Anton replies.

"If Captain Thule speaks the truth and there is indeed heretics in our midst, I need them delt with." The Governor-Militant whispers.

"It will be done sir."

"Good," Alexander nods, "You've already sent out a distress call, I presume?"

The commissar glances around the room for wandering eyes, finding none he turns back to Alexander meeting his eyes and nods. "We've already received a response."

The way Alexander stilled for a fraction of a second was telling, "how!?" he whisper-yelled.

Astropathy was unreliable at the worst of times, the warp storm encroaching on the planet should've made a response impossible, realistically they should've only heard a response when that response if any, entered orbit.

Anton shook his head, "I have the Astropaths under guard in case of possession, but they said there are two inquisitors on route, Ordos Xenos and Ordos Herticus."

Alexander regarded Anton, his eyes sharpening. "Then you must act fast Anton, if they find anything damning, we'll all burn innocent or not."

Anton's lips twitched upwards in a rare display of emotion, "Have I failed you before?"