The first thing I had to teach to Lord Angron was how to read. I know it might seem amazing that a Primarch can be illiterate, but would you really expect people to teach gladiators - whose sole duty is to die for their entertainment - how to read? Fortunately, primarchs learn stunningly fast: once he knew the rules it was only a matter of time until we could move on to the more complex problems.

Naturally, I didn't let Captain Kharn escape with such a short summary.

I have no idea why you think this is interesting, but fine. First of all, I don't think I was made to be a good teacher. I've spent a day trying to figure out how to approach the problem; I couldn't just grab somebody and tell them to teach our Primarch, could I?

At this point, I inquired why this would present such a problem.

Can you imagine teaching him?

To be completely honest, my brain nearly broke as I attempted to imagine such a task. I might have not said a word, but my expression spoke for itself, it seems.

My point exactly. It would just take too long: I've managed to get used to the idea, but whatever person I'd catch would need to accept this and stop boggling, all the while he was waiting. I think you agree that making our Primarch impatient is not the best idea.

So, I spent a vexatious day in the library, searching for simple books that were not infantile. I suppose it might have been easier on a ship belonging to a Legion that does not recruit from a civilized world and therefore has more experience with bridging cultural gaps. Still, once I finally got to teaching…

Well, let's start at the beginning. Alphabet. At this point, he could recognize his own name and a few other words, but in the alphabet their planet used. Still, that wouldn't do. Did you ever wonder why we have one sign per sound in High Gothic and Low Gothic? I had certainly never thought about that. And he asked me about that—and why not use one sign per word.

My first answer was, "It's easier to remember."

Naturally, that did not satisfy him. His home planet used a symbolic alphabet and while he only recognized a few signs, he still pointed out this made no sense. People did learn all those signs and used them.

"Give me a better answer," he demanded.

I said, "Because it's easier to write compound words, my Lord."

I'm surprised I managed to come up with something that coherent. I hadn't expected such a question at all. In fact, I had never thought about it myself. After all, what would I need such knowledge for? I need only to be able to write a comprehensible report, not discuss linguistics. Really, I'm the last person that should explain such things to anybody.

Unlike Horus, who expected his Marines to learn matters not related to war, Angron never endorsed such interests. Admittedly, the War Hounds as far as I can tell are not scholarly inclined by nature, so there is no conflict over this matter. Nevertheless, here we can observe a reason why such studies can prove beneficial to a Space Marine.

"Adding… how is adding many signs easier than adding one?" he asked me with the kind of expression that suggests I had said something moronic.

And I really felt like an idiot, as I tried to explain what I meant. Have you ever tried to explain building adjectives—well, I suppose you're better when it comes to grammar rules, so I suppose you wouldn't have sounded like you have no idea what you're talking about. I only managed to say something about adding endings to adjectives and how it's easier when you've just got to learn you need to add two letters instead of learning a whole new sign...

Imagine my joy a week later when Lord Angron found a book about how symbolic alphabets work. I had to read it too and naturally I found out I was completely wrong.

The Captain shakes his head.

I actually still remember most of it and I have no idea why I'd need it. But this is unimportant. We had far more pressing concerns than alphabets. There was a whole world that needed to be brought into our fold.

Though, when I say we, I don't really mean my Legion. The highest ranking captains are involved in such decisions, true, but it's not really something most of my Brothers would identify with. Ask any of them and they will tell you a variety of things: that it's not a task for a warrior or that it's boring. Still, it's something that has to be done and I should be getting back to the topic.

Usually, the planetary governor was chosen from the higher echelons of the Imperial Army and it was a promotion not many were happy about. In theory, it might appear glorious, but it usually meant being denied the glory of further victories and instead having to deal with the down-to-earth petty problems of administration (and to never, ever go home and see your family...) Colonel Dymetari, or rather Governor Dymetari, was as overjoyed as you can imagine.

Although I have to give the man his due: he might not have been enthusiastic about his situation, but he did approach his duties seriously and with dedication. I had to introduce him to Angron just a day after the Emperor left.

Dymetari arrived on time and in dress uniform. Lord Angron had yet to grasp that a kilt is not the right outfit for every occasion. I suppose that since he thought it is, it should be so. It's not like it really matters what one is wearing as long as it's practical and clean. It's such a bother. Although, I might be trivializing a more serious issue: there was the matter of High Riders, too. I suppose he didn't like appearing like them and they liked their outfits decorative or being reminded of their existence, for the matter. I know he tended to get curt with Fulgrim, because of that.

So, Dymetari walked in and found himself faced by Lord Angron, who was not very impressed by the dress uniform. Fortunately, Dymetari was pretty to the point when listing the problems he was facing. It was simply utter chaos: there was virtually no administrative infrastructure to pick up and he had to oversee building it anew. There were pockets of resistance still: not very big, not very powerful, but annoying.

"Why didn't we kill them all?" Angron demanded.

Dymetari flinched, somewhat surprised by the demand. I suppose that's not that odd—most primarchs have been rather attached to their home planets. Well, there was Trujillo, but that was an extreme case, though I don't know the details.

I was not familiar with the name and no doubt most of you aren't as well. Naturally, I inquired.

That was the home planet of the Primarch of the XIth Legion. I've only heard rumors—but it is said that he refuses to make any comment about it. But we'll get to him in due time. For now, let's focus on Dymetari and his conversation with Angron.

"It would be a waste of resources to conduct such an operation," Dymerari explained. Hastily, he added, when he saw that our Primarch was not satisfied with this answer. "What I meant to say is that those rebels are insignificant. The ressources that would be required to muster a planet-wide sweep as opposed to biding our time and conducting small-scale operations would be disproportional to the losses we take currently and the actual impact of destroying them."

That did not seem to appeal to Angron at all. "They deserve to die," he growled.

"It's not really organized resistance," I said. "Most of those insurgents are just disgruntled people. As far as we know the remaining planetary nobility is hiding somewhere, too afraid to oppose us. The rebels are mostly just people who are afraid of change. We always get them and there's usually more of them when the situation is as severe as here."

Angron snorted. "So we're going to always do half-assed jobs?"

"We're not there to eradicate all resistance," I said. "We're just there to make sure only madmen and those completely desperate attempt it. Our place is a battlefield, not a skirmish. Those can be dealt with by the planetary defense."

"So we just leave it like that?" he asked. I could tell he was not at all pleased.

"You cannot remain here for such a long time, my Lord," Dymetari said.

"We can simply do it faster," Angron replied.

"That's not really feasible," I said. "That would just consume more resources than is reasonable."

At this point our conversation turned to technicalities with which I won't bore you. Suffice to say, we were forced to give Lord Angron a more exhaustive explanation than I have expected.

I tried to get the Captain to continue, but the best I've got out of him was a simple summary of what had been said.

We went into how the financial side of the Great Crusade had worked back then. Not that either me or Dymetari could give a proper explanation, and we ended up fumbling through the more complex questions. Dymetari was at least getting paid, so he had some idea about how a budget works. I doubt any Space Marine even knows how bloody accounting is done. Nevertheless, we managed to at least present the basics, before he told us to just shut up and that he did not care about money.

He still wanted us to just get on with pacifying the planet, despite the costs and "all the shit about needing time" as he put it.

To be honest, I don't think anybody expected me or any of the other officers to explain such things. It simply didn't occur to me that we could have asked our own clerks to do that at that point. To be honest, I hardly noticed them. They were there, doing things like cataloging, writing miles of reports and creating more forms then any sane person needs. Perhaps it's for the better I forgot about them. As much as it would have made my life easier, I don't think it would be worth it ending theirs.

At this point I was not certain if he was exaggerating so I asked.

I don't know. He might have killed them, if they really got on his nerves. They might have reminded him of the High Riders or they could have said something he would not have liked.

As you might imagine I was quite put off by this statement. Aren't primarchs supposed to be paragons of morality and examples for us all?

Gulliman, Dorn, maybe, but Angron is a warrior. He's there to fight not to deal with… Well, fine, he does with the Administratum now, but back then he was more of a gladiator then a general. He's also always been the one to act first, think second and had been conditioned for violence. All in all, not a good state to face accountants.

AN

Well, that took longer than expected. I blame Mass Effect 2.

Next chapter, back to Mortarion and Fulgrim.