IRL Author's Note: Apologies for the delay in chapters, I was finishing my fall term for my master's degree and…well one of my professors was a jackass when it came to assigning two papers in the same week, so I was working on that. The spring term is also starting soon, so chapters will be fewer and further between.
On another note, I've been reading the Tau books, specifically the Farsight books, and oh boy, if there are any Tau fans in the readers, I apologize. Phil Kelly's novels make battlesuits scary as fuck and I have failed to deliver thus far. So, expect a (hopeful) increase in writing proficiency in the next few battle chapters!
Journal 2
The Cruan Campaign
*SO, interloping reader, welcome to the journal that details the last three years of my life. As stated by this obnoxiously bold title, this journal, which is muuuuuuuch larger than my previous one, which will allow me to detail the highlights of the campaign, alongside some minor entries as well. To start, I'll continue where I left off in the previous journal, in addition to outlining the hostile and friendly units at the start of the campaign.
Entry 7
First Steps
Cruan Campaign
998 M.41
Beginning of the Spring Season
Cruan
Ard Allie
A half hour after my promotion…
FROM THE OFFICE OF THE COMMANDING GENERAL, 1ST AGEMENTA GRENADIERS
AS OF 27 MARCH, 1200 HOURS, THE 1ST AGEMENTA GRENADIERS REGIMENT IS FOUNDED.
AS OF 28 MARCH, 0900 HOURS, THE FOLLOWING OFFICERS ARE ASSIGNED TO THE 1ST COMPANY OF THE FIRST BATTALION OF THE 1ST AGEMENTA GRENADIERS.
CAPTAIN URBANUS APELLES
FIRST LIEUTENANT JACOB HUNDERS
FIRST LIEUTENANT BRENDAN IPSWICH
SECOND LIEUTENANT ALD RUSSMAN
SECOND LIEUTEANT ABIGAIL BUNDRICK
SECOND LIEUTEANT FREDRICK MACCALLUM
AS OF 28 MARCH, 0900 HOURS, THE AFOREMENTIONED OFFICERS ARE HEREBY ORDERED TO FORM THE 1ST COMPANY FROM THE GUARDSMEN OF THE REMNANTS OF THE 1ST FREEPORT FUSILIERS, 4TH BATTALION, the 8TH CRUAN, AND THE 19TH CRUAN REGULARS. THE 1ST COMPANY SHALL HAVE NO FEWER NOR NO MORE THAN TWO HUNDRED GUARDSMEN PER PLATOON, NOR MORE NOR NO LESS THAN ONE HUNDRED GUARDSMAN FOR THE COMMAND SECTION, AND NO MORE NOR NO LESS THAN NINE HUNDRED GUARDSMEN IN THE COMPANY. THE AFOREMENTIONED OFFICERS ARE HEREBY ORDERED TO PREPARE THEIR COMPANY FOR DEPLOYMENT NLT (NLT= No Later Than) 18 APRIL 0000 HOURS FOR DEPLOYMENT. THE OFFICERS OF THE 1ST GRENADIERS ARE AUTHORIZED TO REQUISITION EQUIPMENT, RATIONS, AND SUPPLIES DEEMED MISSION ESSENTIAL TO THEIR FORMATION.
THE AFOREMENTIONED OFFICERS ARE HEREBY ORDERED TO REPORT TO BUILDING 19-98 ON SCOFIELD ROAD AND ESTABLISH 1ST COMPANY'S HEADQUARTERS AND ARMORY.
SIGNED
BRIGADIER GENERAL SYRIL MCKENDRICK
"You'd think we'd get a little more leave," Eddie commented upon me reading the orders aloud, "considering the shit we pulled off."
"You clearly haven't been in the Militarum long enough," Volker said, "whenever you do something heroic, they send you to do more heroics."
"That's some bullshit," Eddie grumbled. I agreed but said nothing; I was no longer in a position to publicly agree with the grumblings of my friends.
Upon greeting my friends and SFC Volker, I discovered that my friends had all pinned on the rank of Sergeant; granting me my first squad leaders. Benny was suitably flabbergasted when I presented him with the rank of Staff Sergeant to the point of speechlessness and redness of face. The relief of having my five teammates and new-found friend in Benny at my side filled me with relief.
However, as for Sergeant First Class Volker Stadtlander, there was a wordless unease about him, and his eyes regarded me will a note of suspicion and distrust. He was not as onboard with my promotion as the rest of my…our new team was.
As I write this, it occurs to me I have yet to describe the man that is SFC Volker. For context, I'm 5'9. Hob stands at 6'4 and can damn near fill a door, Volker stands at 6'3 and can do the exact same. Whereas Hob has dark eyes, Volker has green eyes that look like balefire when he's angry…and yes, I did incur that wrath multiple times over, I was a dumbass private. Remember the Sister of Battle of the Imperial Sister? I swear a vein was going to pop out of his head. He was also a former member of the Adeptus Arbites; leaving when he was fed up with his fellow Arbitrators on Freeport, and joining the Imperial Guard, bringing a shock maul with him. This maul was ever presented on his hip.
SFC Volker was and is very much no nonsense, no beating around the bush, and no pussyfooting around an issue; if you were out of line, he would tell you, bluntly. That being said, as we seven walked the half mile to Building 19-98 Scofield Road, I could tell he was holding back for the sake of professionalism. I would address this when time allowed it.
Rounding the corner onto Scofield Road, we came upon the building that would serve as the home for 1st Company for the next two years. The term "building" was a poor descriptor; it was a warehouse that was half a city block wide and long, and three stories tall. Made of brick and mortar, it stood imposing over the street.
"Well, when the Militarum goes big, it goes big," Volker said.
"It might be able to fit both of us, sarge," Hob chuckled. Volker cracked a grin and nodded.
"Might actually fit all of Sergeant Price's whining and whinging too."
"Hey!" We all laughed, barring Eddie, who launched into a series of defensive complaints. Ignoring his protests, we walked inside 19-98 to find it dark and empty; we were the first to enter. "And of course, they make it hard to find the light switch in the dark!"
"Like you could find you own ass in the light, Eddie," Si said, sliding along the left most wall until he found the switch. One flick later, and the groaning and buzzing of industrial lights filled the background of our hearing. The entryway filled with dull white light, revealing the immediate surroundings briefly causing a dull ache to rest behind my eyes.
The floors were dull gray permacrete, intermixed with metal pillars that rose to the ceiling. The pillars served as anchor points between walls of panels; the kinds you would see in a 21st century office building, that rose ten feet into the air. Beyond, faintly illuminated by the entryway's lights, was a large open bay, and to our right was a set of stairs leading to overlooking offices.
"Gents, get this level lit up and find anything useful. Volker, let's took a looksie upstairs," I ordered. I could feel Volker baulk a little at the command, slight as it was, but he obeyed without question. The six sergeants spread out in pairs across the floor while Volker and I ascended the stairs. The offices took up the back corner of the warehouse, the outer side ringed with windows so the office workers could look out over the floor. I opened the door for Volker, who grunted in thanks.
"Well… looks like we've got some space," he commented, unsure of what to say. I nodded, closing the door behind me.
"Alright," I said, and he turned his head to look at me, "rank does not exist right now. Get whatever you need off your chest before things get serious." Volker blinked once, looked me up and down, and took a deep breath.
"Well sir-"
"No rank; Ald, Russ, Russman, fuck-face, ass-hat, whatever."
"Sir," Volker insisted, "first I'd like to say I have nothing but respect for what you pulled off at the Tau CP. Many in your position would have stayed hidden and waited it out. Instead, you took the initiative and executed an effective plan, even if the Space Marines took the glory at the end of the day." I nodded in appreciation, bracing for the coming storm.
"However," Volker took a breath, then began, "your promotion is the worst fucking idea I ever heard of. Granted, Captain Apelles was promoted for similar circumstances after Freeport, but he was already a proven leader; you are not. You had one good moment with a bunch of bigwigs saying how good of a leader and planner you were, and they slapped the bar on you. If they'd jump you to sergeant, I wouldn't have said a damn thing, but they didn't. Instead, they put you in a place where you're responsible for the lives of two hundred guardsmen, with only one Emperor-damned fight in your belt, and that was won by the Space Marines!" Although he was correct, the last bit stung.
"You are a good Guardsman, sir, but I don't think you're ready for this in fucking slightest. I'm afraid you're going to get my guardsmen, our guardsmen killed with some half-baked plan and a vision of glory!" Volker took a deep breath and smoothed out the front of his uniform, before adding a quick, "Sir."
"First," I began, "thank you for being…candid with me, and know that, behind closed doors, that's what I want from you." I could see a flicker in his eyes, be it in surprise or appreciation, I did not know.
"Second," I continued, "Let's be one hundred percent clear; I am not ready to lead two hundred people, in this world or in any other. However, command, in its infinite wisdom," Volker chuckled at this, "has deemed otherwise, and so here we are. With that in mind, I'm going to be asking for a lot of help, especially as I am taking command from Captain Apelles. I've got big shoes to fill, and I've got to fill them in twenty-one days, which, frankly, is not ideal, and very fucking scary. So, your reservations are valid, but I ask that you set them aside and help me lead. Worst case scenario, it works out and we're stuck together, best case, I get killed and you get a new PL (platoon leader)."
Volker thought for a long moment, took a deep breath, and nodded, saying, "Yes sir, I can do that!"
"Fantastic!" I clapped my hands together in relief, "First thing's first; we need an actual platoon to lead! I've got two ideas that'll get us around seventy to eighty Guardsmen."
"I can hunt around and pick off the crème of the crop," Volker said, "though we'll need an even split of Freeporters to Cruan in the unit."
"Leave that to Staff Sergeant McDonagh, that will be his first assignment." Volker nodded.
"Well, I'll get to it," he said. He paused before moving, then came to attention and rendered a salute. This was improper indoors, but it was a symbolic gesture; an acknowledgement that I was in command, and he would do his best to help me. I retuned it, stepping to the side and allowing him passage to the door. Volker moved forward, placed a hand on the door, and turned to me. "For the record, I'd consider your best-case scenario to be the worst one." I smiled in return.
"Aw, you do care!" I said, and Volker rolled his eyes.
"Against my better judgement, yes sir I do," and Volker proceeded out of the upper offices. "Sergeant McDonagh!"
"Aye!" Came the distant response.
"On me, we're going for a walk!"
"Moving!" Benny came sprinting from the far side of the warehouse, kilt flapping around him as he ran.
"Emperor's sake, man, where are your underpants?!" Volker barked in disgust; nose crinkled.
I had to turn away and cover my mouth at that and Benny's candid response of, "Highlanders don't wear them under the kilt; why, jealous?" My ribs hurt from the effort of not laughing aloud. The pair left, with Volker visibly resisting the urge to not grab Benny's ear and haul him outside, with the Cruan native grinning like a mischievous child. The rest of the team looked on from the other side of the warehouse as the two exited 19-98.
"Find anything fun?" I called, leaving the offices and making my way to the group.
"Space, space, and, surprisingly, more space," Eddie said. Hob chuckled while Si sighed loudly, Vic ignoring all of this.
"Plenty of room for the company, sir; there's an area further back that we can use for an armory." He stated. I nodded in reply, opening my mouth to speak, when the front door opened again. Turning, I saw a group of six walk inside, their leader being Captain Apelles.
"Quick, go claim a spot for 1st platoon," I hissed to my team, and they about faced, moving quickly to accomplish their task. I in turn moved towards Captain Apelles and his entourage, which consisted of another four men and a woman.
"Ah, Russ," the Redeye called, "glad to see you're adjusting to your new role!"
"Yes sir, just doing what I can," I replied, coming to attention.
"Now now, none of that," the Redeye waved his hand in dismissal, "we've twenty-one days to get to work and no time for that now. These are your fellow platoon leaders," he gestured to the men and woman behind him, "First Lieutenant Hunders, First Lieutenant Ipswich, Second Lieutenant Bundrick, and Second Lieutenant MacCallum. And this," he gestured to the fifth man, "is First Sergeant William Newman, our company sergeant." Newman nodded in reply.
"A pleasure to meet all of you," I said, nodding to them.
"Now that we're introduced, let's get to business; how does she look?" The Redeye gestured to 19-98.
"Spacious, sir, plenty of room for all nine hundred of us," I answered.
"Excellent!" The Redeye turned to the other four lieutenants, "Rendezvous with your platoon sergeants and start gathering your Guardsmen, snap to it!"
"Yes sir!" My four new colleagues snapped around and fled the building, leaving myself, the Redeye, and First Sergeant Newman at the front of the building.
"And where is Volker? I thought he left with you?"
"Sir, he and Staff Sergeant McDonagh are out hunting for our soldiers," I replied.
"Good," the next few minutes consisted of orienting the Redeye and myself to the rest of 19-98. It was a utilitarian building with more than enough space for all of us, soon to be teeming with Guardsmen for the next three weeks. As we finished, the front door opened again.
"Uh…hello?" A meek voice called. Walking back out to the front, we found a private standing in the door. "Captain Apel-les?"
"Indeed, report."
"Sir," the private stepped inside and came to attention, envelope in hand, "I've got a message for you from Brigadier General McKendrick."
"Thank you, lad," the Redeye took the envelope, "dismissed." The private hurried out of the room as the captain sighed. "Not even an hour after I leave HQ, and the missives are flying around." He extracted the envelope's contents and briefly read it. "Campaign briefing, 0800 hours tomorrow morning; all officers from the 1st Grenadiers requested to appear."
"Anything to be worried about, sir?" I inquired.
"Worried, no," the Redeye shook his head as he folded the memo, "just an early wake up to hear a bunch of old farts talk about their plans for the campaign. Emperor willing, one day we'll be those old farts." I nodded in response, the Redeye clapping his hands together loudly. "Now then, we have a light infantry company to prepare, come with me."
For the rest of the day, I listened and worked with Captain Apelles in preparing 1st Company. We were to be the lead edge of the Grenadiers and we were to prepare as such. The Redeye's time on regimental staff had taught him much, especially when it came to…creative paperwork, which we put to use requisitioning double the equipment to outfit us. By the time I found a bed at 2100 hours, I was mentally drained and my wrist was sore from writing.
Ard Allie City Hall
0755 Hours…
The city hall was not the prime choice for a mass briefing, but it was the only place where we could cram dozens of officers and sergeants and secure the room against outside ears. At the front and center of the semi-circular chamber sat a massive table that held a holoprojector that presently displayed a map of the Ard Allie area. Behind that stood Inquisitor Levant, deep in conversation with General Königlich, Brigadier General Oleg Kirkson, the commander of the 2nd Freeport Dragoons, General McKendrick, a pair of colonels from the Regulars, a lieutenant general from campaign command, and an Astartes I could only assume was the Chapter Master of the Iron Angels. The marine dominated the large room; the light reflecting off the gold trim of his armor and Iron Halo. It was hard not to stare; stares the transhuman ignored as he continued his discussion.
"Flashy fellow, isn't he?" Captain Apelles observed, "Though if you have his service record, I'd say you'd earned it."
Indeed, the Chapter Master had four service studs imbedded in his forehead; over four hundred years of loyal service to the Imperium. Though, with my real-world knowledge of chapter masters, it seemed to me that he was significantly less gaudy than individuals like Commander Dante or Calgar. His armor had the same gold trim that the Iron Angels' officers did, in addition to a silver laurel around his head and the Iron Halo, but other than a few purity seals, the Iron Angels leader had little to adorn his armor.
"Can't imagine four hundred years of fighting," I answered, shaking my head.
"That's why the Emperor gave us his Astartes, so we wouldn't have to," the Redeye said matter-of-factly. I nodded as the clock struck 0800, and the chapter master turned, loudly stamping an armored foot. The room fell silent as a door at the rear of the chamber opened, and a second Inquisitor moved inward.
"Oh no…of all the people," I thought as the man came alongside Levant. Last I had seen the Inquisitor, he had been dragging away a merchant captain in the streets of Grunnur, covered in dust and debris from out engagement with the Tau Pathfinders and their Devilfish. Now, the tall, dark-haired man was garbed in carapace armor and a long jacket that reached down around his thighs. And, some fucking how, his eyes landed on me. Because of course they did.
"Good morning," Inquisitor Levant began before anything could come of the glance.
"Good morning, ma'am," the room thundered back.
"This morning, we shall provide an overview of the enemy forces within the Agementa system. I am joined by the commanders of the 1st and 2nd Freeport regiments, the 1st Agementa Grenadiers, the 22nd and 23rd Cruan Regulars, Lieutenant General Taros Dektain, my fellow Inquisitor Quinten Hightower of the Ordo Xenos, and Chapter Master Nikolas Sidero of the Iron Angels." Chapter Master Sidero bowed his head to the assembly. "This vital intelligence was brought to us by the efforts of the Iron Angels 3rd Company, my own Tempestus Scions, and survivors from the 1st Freeport Fusiliers 4th battalion led by Second Lieutenant Russman. I thank you all for your efforts." There was a murmur around the room as dozens of eyes found me; chief among them the Inquisitors and the Chapter Master's. I didn't have to look in a mirror to know I was as red as Blood Angel.
"Before we proceed," Chapter Master Sidero called, and the room silenced itself, "I have instructed my chapter to work alongside your guardsmen for the duration of this campaign. Battalion commanders, call upon my brothers as you need, and will we crush these traitors and xenos beneath our boots together!"
"Okay, interesting," I thought privately, "Marines willing to work with and potentially for guardsmen? That's a rarity."
"Moving forward," the Inquisitor tapped a button on the holoprojector, and several figures appeared, "these are the faces of our foes." The face of the Huntsman stared lifelessly at me, followed by another three Tau faces, two human ones, and…an Ork.
"Of all the bloody things," the Redeye hissed, scratching the skin around his titular eye. I nodded silently in agreement, taking out my notepad and pen. The chamber was filled the sound of shuffling paper and the clicking of pens for a few seconds.
"Of most familiarity to the Regulars and Grenadiers is Shas'El Kage Guǐ Dǎoshī or the Huntsman; the commander of the Tau forces on Cruan," began Inquisitor Hightower, "The Huntsman is known for ambush tactics, rapid assaults, and targeting of Militarum command structures. As such, he is the Tau's most dangerous weapon on Cruan. He is seconded by his daughter," the Inquisitor highlighted the second Tau, the shorter Fire Warrior I had seen with the Huntsman, "Shas'Vre Kage Xuànfēng, also known as the Banshee; commander of her father's Pathfinder cadre, and responsible for the decimation of the 20th Cruan Regulars, she is just as much of a threat as her father."
"More recently," Chapter Master Sidero spoke up, "she and her Pathfinders have laid waste to a squad of my brothers." A servo skull floated up from behind the Chapter Master and faced the far wall, eyes glowing. Camera footage came into focus; a tactical team from the Iron Angels 5th Company engaged traitor guardsmen. A flurry of small objects hurtled through the footage, emitting a high-pitched wail and a blinding white light; Tau Photon Grenades. The Angels were visibly impacted by this and were cut down by Tau pulse weaponry, the camera footage ending on the ground, cocked to the side, the image of the Banshee standing above a fallen Astartes.
"The Shas'Vre is more willing to close with enemy forces, unlike much of her race," Sidero continued, "and begins her assaults by disabling her opponent's senses. Unconfirmed reports have suggested the deployment of Kroot warriors in conjunction with these operations, enhancing their lethality. With what limited information is available, it appears the Banshee strikes at the height of a formation's assault, where their momentum is the greatest, and grinds it to a halt. In our breakout operations around Ard Allie, we lost eight battle brothers to her spoiling attacks and suffered the disablement of one of our Predator tanks. The Banshee is not to be underestimated; her aggression is her greatest advantage."
"Which brings us to their campaign commander," Hightower highlighted the next Tau; a taller figure emerging from a towering battlesuit, "identified as Shas'O Taiyō Sanburēdo Sutoraikā, the Skyhammer. Commander Skyhammer has been previously identified by Imperial intelligence during several naval and Militarum outings into Tau territory, during which he has frequently beaten back Imperial Guard formations and thwarted any reclamation efforts."
The image shifted to an image of a large battlesuit above a line of Leman Russ battle tanks, firing down into the unprepared formation. One of them was already a ball of flames, the tank crew flying out in pieces or cartwheeling through the air. I felt my gut churn at the image, both in horror for my fellow Guardsmen, and in anger.
"The Skyhammer is known for shock-and-awe tactics, in addition to the liberal use of Hammerhead tanks. Alongside his battlesuits, the Skyhammer is willing to commit to slugging matches against Imperial armor formations if it means ensuring victory. His willingness to do whatever it takes to achieve victory makes him a formidable opponent. Which brings us to our last figure of import for the Tau," the image shifted to the final Tau, a lanky figure, hands held out, staff in his right hand, "the Ethereal Aun'Ui Lǎoshī, the Wise Voice. His machinations are the cause for the betrayal of most of the Agementa System; spinning tales of deceit that many believed. Any chance the to eliminate him is of top priority."
"Which brings us to their traitorous subordinates," Levant stepped forward now as the image of the first man came into focus, "this is Lord Peer Percival Kiltrecht; former officer in the Agementa Regulars and current commander of the Gue'vesa forces on Cruan. Any records regarding him are held by the traitors, however, information suggests he is one of the ringleaders of the system's betrayal. His capture is of top priority to me, and will be reflected by your Guardsmen." There was an audible wave that passed through the room, the Inquisitor's statement clearly rankling some nerves. Chapter Master Sidero silenced the room with a firm stomp of his boot, the CLANG! ringing through the chamber. In spite of this, one brave, inquisitive officer stood at the other end of the room.
"Ma'am, what makes the capture of the Lord Peer such a priority?" The man, a Freeporter, asked simply.
"That is not for disclosure at this time," Levant answered curtly.
"There are matters the Inquisition are…looking into," Brigadier Oleg said, his deep voice carrying in the chamber, "and such matters are not of immediate concern to the Guard. All you must do is provide relevant information to your chains of command and inform your soldiers of the capture order. That is all." The officer nodded and returned to his seat.
"As for the next on our list," the second human appeared, and conversation once more erupted as an Ecclesiarch came into view, "Arch Cardinal Samuel de Richelieu; heretic, traitor, and usurper, this is the Arch Traitor of Agementa. His heresy is most foul, deceiving the children of the Imperium into believing the God-Emperor would allow his will to be seconded by the Tau's Greater Good. The Inquisition wishes his capture for public censure and execution."
"And finally, the Ork," Chapter Master Sidero stated, and the image shifted to the Greekskin, "Warboss Badklaw, head of WAAGH! Badklaw. Once, my Iron Angels waged war against his ilk and believed him to be slain. However, the Warboss survived our wrath and limped to the Agementa system, rebuilding his strength. His WAAGH! lies on Agementa Tertius Iota; a moon orbiting Agementa's gas giant. From here, he has satiated his kinds' desire for combat with raids and skirmishes against the Tau and the traitors of this system, but the disruption of the Tau fleet in the system has granted him mobility. Now, a portion of his warband dwell on Cruan, readying to usher in the rest of their kind."
The image shifted again, this time showing Warboss Badklaw at the head of his WAAGH!, and Sidero continued. "Badklaw's tactics rely heavily upon a rapid initial breakthrough, to be exploited with Greenskin tanks, infantry, and stompas. If encountered, all efforts must be made to contain the Orks, lest the penetrate our lines and wreak havoc upon Imperial formations."
"With this," the lieutenant general stepped forward, his voice high-pitched and oddly confidant, "we have our opposing forces. As for friendly forces, Segmentum Command has delegated us any and all loyal forces within the Agementa system and the regiments of Freeport, representing the forces in the immediacy. As for Militarum reinforcements, we shall be receiving aid from the 14th Greensward Carbineers, 49th Julianus Armored, 25th Garaja Mobile Artillery and the 217th Elysian." Captain Apelles and I shared a look; the 217th had been 4th Battalion's mentors in the arts of the air assault.
"Additionally, the Forge Worlds of Molotok and Ambolt are lending their Skitarii to our cause; Molotok honoring bonds to the Agementa system, and the world of Ambolt honoring their forge brethren. Finally, as of yesterday evening, the Order of the Imperial Rose will be dedicating its Sisters of Battle and Sisters Hospitaller to our campaign."
A small knot formed in my stomach at that. Sisters of Battle can be very hit or miss when it comes to campaign additions; on the one hand, they can be a morale boost and a boon for any Imperial battle line. On the other hand, well, Dawn of War: Soulstorm could happen, and they could try to purge the system of anyone who refuses to be subordinate to them. Either way, I'd be watching the Sisters of the Imperial Rose very carefully.
"This concludes the campaign briefing for today; marching orders will be dispatched within the next several days. The 14th Greensward is the closest regiment and will arrive shortly after the 1st Grenadier's departure from Ard Allie; all efforts will be made in order to ensure room for their movement and maneuver. Dismissed."
The room filled with the shriek of scrapping boots, the rustle of paper, the clicking of pens, and the sudden tumble of voices. The Redeye nodded to me; we stood and left the room as quickly as possible.
"So, assessment?" He asked as we left. I paused before speaking.
"We have an incredibly large amount of combat power dedicated to this one campaign, and that's ignoring the Skitarii, Marines, and Sisters."
"And what worries you the most?"
"Would it be heresy to say the Inquisitors, sir?"
The Redeye chuckled, "Depends on the company, in this case, no, it is not. The fact that two Ordos have joined forces on this campaign is…concerning." He turned to me, "That reminds me, are those the two Inquisitors your team interrupted on Grunnur."
"Please don't remind me, sir." The Redeye threw back his head and laughed as we were joined by the rest of my fellow lieutenants. We began the walk back to Building 19-98, and to our next great work.