"They want us to do WHAT?" Shouted Lieutenant Samusenko, Lho stick in hand.
"Careful Sam, you might swallow that if you shout any harder." Joked Lieutenant Farid of the 1st platoon, a smile on his elderly face, obscured by his numerous augments acquired over the years of service.
"Yeah, wouldn't want her to choke on it before she dies from lung cancer at the ripe old age of forty five." Added lieutenant Mirza of the 4th platoon.
"I am forty five you prick!" Fumed Samusenko.
"And you have my condolences." Finished Mirza grinning. The youngest Lieutenant in the regiment had to duck as Samusenko flicked the half finished Lho stick in his direction.
The rest of the room was about as dissatisfied as she was. Jokes, curses and general complaints could be heard all across Colonel Zal's tent. Eshu looked nervously at his mentor.
"Shouldn't we stop this sir?" He asked Hartmann who was standing impassively in the corner.
"Why would we?" Asked Hartmann in turn, eyes forward.
"General unrest is the first sign of disciplinary issues." Noted Eshu remembering his training, "A commissar should cut these before they blossom."
"Correct," Agreed Hartmann, "but do you remember what your teachings state about a commissar's relation to the workings of militarum hierarchy?"
"That a commissar is supposed to stay outside the military hierarchy and interfere only if the situation calls for it."
"Correct," Said Hartmann again, "does the current situation call for such an interference?"
Eshu looked at the tent again. Most of it was filled with different lieutenants and sergeants of the 36th. According to Commissar Hartmann, the Colonel always held such meetings before a deployment. Supposedly helped with the esprit de corps, though right now Eshu couldn't see a single sliver of the spirit of cooperation in the air. He couldn't really blame the guardsmen for being on edge, assaulting a mega gargant without any support? Suicidal at best. The fact that he was going to be part of the assault didn't put his mind at ease. In fact were it not for his training and his focus on the reaction of others, he probably would be having a mild crisis of faith. But he was a future commissar, in training perhaps, yet part of the Commissariat nonetheless. So he examined the situation again, critically.
Amidst the jests and the curses, he noticed a small island of quiet frustration: the Colonel herself and her right hand man, the Major. They were both silent, observing their subordinates, waiting. Farrah Zal caught Eshu's stare, and smiled. It was a tired smile, weathered by a lifetime of warfare, but exuding confidence.
"She's… got it under control?" Asked Eshu.
"Or she thinks she does. Normally I wouldn't approve of such behaviour but the Colonel believes that the men need to discharge their emotions. Now, should she fail we will have to intervene, but not before." Stated Hartmann, eyes still locked on the Colonel.
Because doing otherwise would diminish the Commanding officer, Eshu realised. As if to confirm his thoughts, Major Rudi got up and dropped his bolt pistol on the big table with the maps. The clang, though not a loud one, quieted the room as surely as a discharge of it.
"Yeah yeah, you're pissed, I get it." Grumbled Rudi, looking at every lieutenant in the tent. An aged veteran with receding hairline and a few scars he looked the part of an angry drill sergeant. "And I'm glad you got that out of your system, without insulting the God Emperor or his angels." He continued, giving a sideways glance to Hartmann. "Now if you're done complaining why don't we start doing our jobs?"
Samusenko scoffed, while fidgeting with her lighter: "Job? All due respect major, there's no job here. It's a Mega Gargant. Titan class walker. How are we supposed to kill that?"
"Quickly, according to the high command." Complained Sergeant Lydia Chalci, sitting on a chair with its back up front. The meeting was usually reserved for Lieutenants, but drop troopers like 'Cannonade Chalci' were given a place of honour.
"Why thank you Lieutenant, for pointing out that it was a gargant, for you see I suddenly became blind this morning." Said Rudi, voice filled with acid. "Now since you have such good eyesight, perhaps you could tell us any weak points."
"Weak points?" Samusenko laughed bitterly as she got out another Lho stick. "Major, this thing is ten kilotons of murder held together through sheer Ork idiocy! I guarantee that if you blow up its engines it'll still be running! And you want us to kill it? With what, your bolt pistol?"
"I've seen your platoon reduce armoured columns to scrap!" Fumed Rudi.
"This is different! It's like comparing ants to humans, we can't just-"
"Sam," Said the Colonel, "pass me a Lho stick."
The Lieutenant stopped mid sentence and looked at Farrah Zal. The older woman was standing near the table, eyes firm.
"Ma'am?"
"You just threw one at Mirza, you have enough to spare."
Confused, the Lieutenant got out a stick and gave it to the Colonel, before lighting it up. Farrah Zal breathed the smoke in and coughed: "Damn this is vile! Where did you get those from?"
Samusenko shrugged, "Traded with the Steel legion, they had a surplus."
"I can guess why." Farrah grinned, though keeping the lho stick. "You're right," She said, turning to the entire room, "this is different. Bigger than any target we had to take down. But if we don't the entire campaign is over. We let this thing be completed and we might as well just pack our bags and leave."
The room was silent, everyone focused on their commander.
"The Emperor's own Angels trusted us with this task." Farrah continued, "And I don't intend to let the Astartes down. Do you?"
A quiet 'no' traversed the tent. Farrah smiled: "Good, now let's start planning." She walked over to her table and the board behind it, stamped with more maps and statistics. The major rotated the board, revealing a chalkboard on the other side and handed a piece of white chalk to the Colonel.
"Let's start with our target." Said Farrah, writing 'Gargant' on the center of the board and encircling it.
Mirza, who was idly tossing a deck of cards, put up a hand: "Now hold on, the orbital images indicated ork guns on the perimeter. We'll need to take those out too if we want to secure the site."
Farrah nodded and added 'Ork guns' in another circle.
"And we'll need to take out the Warboss too." Sighed Samusenko, seemingly giving up on trying to get another Lho stick.
"Won't he be in his Gargant though? This one is something like an ork engineer right?" Mused Mirza.
"You're lucky Kantuari isn't here." Samusenko flared up. "Engineering is a craft, the orks just stick two things together and it works despite everything."
"They're called Meks." Farid chimed in. Everyone looked at him: "What? I fought in Octarius before any of you were old enough to skydive, I know a thing or two about Greenskins!" The elderly Lieutenant scoffed and got out some sort of guitar which he started tuning, purposefully ignoring the rest of the room.
Farrah chuckled, noted down 'Mek' and connected that circle to the Gargant. "Anything else?"
"Hate being the downer here," Samusenko said, ignoring the snickering coming from Mirza, "But the Gargant's still impervious to anything we can drop."
"Not if we drop into it." Claimed Chalci. When everybody turned to her, the big ginger woman just shrugged: "If we can't blow it out from the outside, just blow it up from the inside. Simple really."
"Well," mused Farid, "I reckon we can make an entrance from the top. Head's big enough to land a squad or two with melta bombs."
Farrah nodded and added 'Insert team' to the board, this time putting a square around it and linking it to the Gargant. Eshu blinked in confusion, but kept his tongue.
"So we have one team on the top, followed up by the others." Said Rudi, studying the maps. "Probably the same one that'll have to take care of the Warbo- the Mek. Any volunteers?"
Farid held up a hand: "Leave it to the first platoon, major. We'll bring you the xeno's head on a platter."
Farrah added '1st' to the insertion team. Then after some reflection she added, 'command' to it.
"I'll go in after you." She said, thinking. "Gargant's head would be the tallest structure there, good place for field command."
Samusenko rocked back and forth on her seat, grimacing: "My sentinels are going to be cramped in there. Best to go from below and flush the enemy from there."
"Pincer manoeuvre to take out the Mek, I like it." Agreed Farrah making more notes.
"And I suppose we'll take out the guns." Sighed Mirza, idly twirling his combat knife. "4th always gets the boring jobs."
At that Chalci lightly elbowed him: "Come on killjoy, what's more fun than blowing up orks sky high?" Part of the 4th, the sergeant always refused a promotion, which meant that despite their ranks, Mirza was always looking to her for advice.
Mirza opened his mouth but decided not to argue. As Farrah was noting down the different platoon assignments, Eshu decided to raise his hand.
"Something to add, Cadet commissar?" Asked Rudi, locking eyes with him.
"It's just-" Stumbled Eshu feeling the stares of the lieutenants on him, "You said the head of the Gargant is ten metres wide right?"
"Ten to fifteen," Agreed Farrah, still scribbling down notes.
"And you're planning to land an entire platoon there."
"Well not all at once, of course." Said Farid, pinching his metal jaw.
"And the margin of error for the hot drop would be…"
"About five percent." Samusenko chimed in.
"Right." Said Eshu feeling the sweat creep up beneath his cap. "And none of you see any problems with that?"
The room was silent for a few moments. Then it erupted in laughter.
"I guess when you put it like that," chuckled Farid, "It does sound rather insane."
"And now you can see why the rest of the Guard are calling us mad." Laughed Chalsi.
Farrah Zal smiled again: "I see your point cadet. But we've done drops with higher precision than this. Honestly this will be the easy part."
"It gets harder?" Asked Eshu, eyes wide, which prompted another round of laughter.
"In case you missed it, we have a warboss to kill, cadet." Hartmann scowled.
"And assuming we manage to do so and disable his toy there's another problem." Said Rudi.
"I suggest keeping your eyes on the prize, Major." Said Hartmann, sternly.
The room grew silent once again as the major and the commissar engaged in a staring contest. The Major couldn't exactly contradict a commissar but he clearly didn't want to bend.
"As much as I concur with the Commissar," said Farrah, face turned towards the board, "we do need to discuss the aftermath."
Hartmann took a step forward, lightly pushing Eshu out of the way: "Your duty is to the Emperor first."
"And to my men second." Farrah responded coldly. "And I'll fulfil both, as always."
Hartmann narrowed his eyes but didn't say remained silent.
Farid, clapped his hands which broke the silence: "So. I assume the navy isn't going to be charitable."
"Are they ever?" Asked Samusenko.
"No they're not." Agreed Farrah. "But besides that, they wouldn't risk a landing in the middle of enemy lines. Not for that long anyway."
"Then we'll just have to sit it out." Shrugged Chalsi. "Assuming anyone will come to rescue us."
Farrah made another mark on the board: "The Astartes are planning a combined armored push with the Steel legion." 'Astartes' was now marked on the top left encircled by an arrow.
Samusenko groaned: "Great, that means we'll have to survive for what? A week?"
"They're Astartes, Sam." Farid chided her, "Four days at best. Throne, I can bet a bottle of Araks on that."
Samusenko laughed: "I'll take that bet."
Rudi frowned: "We'll say a week. In the middle of Ork infested territory, with every Greenskin trying to get us. Not good odds, Colonel."
Farrah grinned and tapped the middle of the board: "well where one sees a Gargant…"
Another silence. Then Chalsi burst out laughing: "Oh now this is insane! Even by our standards!"
"Don't tell me you're thinking about what I'm thinking" Groaned Samusenko.
Hartmann looked like he was seething with rage, and Farid clapped while chuckling. Eshu didn't understand. Not until he saw the last word Farrah wrote on the board. 'Fortress', encircled and linked to the Gargant.