"I'm sorry, can you repeat that?" I asked, putting on a calm front in order to conceal my incredulity. "Because it sounded like the riot was started by your men, Major, not liking the plates that the meal was served on." I couldn't believe what I'd just said, but the results were clear; the worst riot I'd ever seen had been kicked off by TABLEWARE. There'd been an investigation, and we were all going over the results. It had taken about a week of taking witness testimony and interrogations, getting every trooper's story and putting them together to find the full truth. Fortunately, as due to my intervention there had been no casualties Captain Parjita had been willing to let me take things at my own pace, expressing his thanks for my actions. I dreaded to think of the pressure I'd be under to wrap things up and start handing out summary executions if anyone had indeed died or been permanently maimed during the riot. Of course, my emergency healing had made the 12th's proclamations of me as a Saint seem far more legitimate in the eyes of everyone on the ship, especially those of the 301st/296th who had a front row seat to the 'miracle'.
Broklaw squirmed in his seat, not meeting my eyes as he knew how this looked. Kasteen had a noticeable smirk to her face, thinking she'd won; that wouldn't last long. "And…" I made a show of checking my notes. "You said that Corporal Bella Trebek of the 296th threw the first punch." Oh, there the smirk went, over to Broklaw while it was Kasteen's turn to look uncomfortable. Of course I didn't look at them directly, just out of the corners of my eyes as I continued to read from my notes. "Of course, this was after a 301st Sergeant named Tobias Kelp told her that he'd be damned if he ate off of, and I'm quoting here… 'Mincing Tart's front parlour tea service." And the smug look was back to Kasteen; part of myself found this switching of emotions as engaging as a sport the wealthy and nobility played which involved passing a ball back and forth with rackets. I'll admit to some tiny fraction of amusement as the look was passed back to Broklaw at my next words, continuing the back and forth. "However, considering that the troopers have despised one another since the amalgamation, it was a very, very poor decision to use the 296th's ceramics. Was there a good reason for whoever decided to break out the fine silverware?"
"It was Founding Day!" Lieutenant Sulla, who was also seated in the room beside the two previously mentioned officers and of course Divas, angrily protested. Jurgen was off to the side, providing cups of tanna to try and keep this meeting civil; of course only Divas and I partook, as the others were put off by how he handled the cups with his typically grimy hands. The somewhat horse-faced woman went on, full of righteous indignation at having her judgment questioned. "We always use the traditional ceramics for Founding Day!"
"You're going to need some new traditional ceramics to use them next year." Broklaw snarked, which caused the two women present to suddenly turn to him, daggers in their eyes while Divas gave him the same disbelieving look a parent might aim towards a misbehaving child who had just dropped their trousers in public. To prevent a brawl in my office, I decided that it was now or never. I cleared my throat, getting their attention back on me as I addressed the representative of the 301st remnants.
"Major, I'm positive that the 301st had their own Founding Traditions. I am aware that the 12th certainly did." Dousing the CO and Commissar in tanna was the tradition, to be exact(1). "I am well aware that such traditions are important to the morale of the Emperor's Hammer." Broklaw nodded, before he realized that I had used past tense when mentioning the 301st and the 12th, which made him a bit more nervous.
"Tell that to the knuckle-draggers." Sulla spat, decidedly not helping the situation. Broklaw whirled around, and I could tell even without tasting his emotions that he was about to use his fists. The senior officers brawling in the Commissar's office would be the final nail in the coffin for any chance we had of turning this mess into a functioning regiment. So with an exaggerated sigh (Emperor help me, Illric was rubbing off on me!), I placed my laspistol on the table. That shocked all of them into silence; I had the authority to kill everyone in that room, after all. And only Divas and Jurgen knew me well enough to know that I wouldn't.
"Lieutenant, you will have your turn to talk. Please be patient." I replied in a polite and kind tone, taking some of the bite out of my unspoken threat. Sulla nodded, and I carefully slid my laspistol back into its holster, having made my point. The three problem officers relaxed, yet were watching me intently at the reminder of my authority. Good, I had their attention and they weren't likely to forget what sort of power I had over them. Because they really weren't going to like what I was about to say next. "The riot last week showed what we already know; the troops can't keep feeling like they're separate regiments, the 12th, 296th, or 301st." Divas seemed to understand where I was going with this, and seemed to be nodding along. "Morale would never recover, which limits the ability of you to function as The Emperor's Hammer." Something that many seemed to forget was that troops aren't machines. They need to have morale; actually, so do machines, according to the cogboys and if the legends of Mankind's fall from glory at the end of the Dark Age of Technology are correct(2).
"What, exactly, are you proposing?" Kasteen asked me, voice mild and watching me carefully.
I gave a shrug and laid out the first step in the plan I'd come up with during the past week. "Simple. We begin to integrate the regiment at the squad level, with a mix from all of the regiments in each squad." There was a long moment of stunned silence, then I was proved entirely correct in my estimation on how they would take this as my office exploded into angry yelling.
"Unacceptable! The men will never go along with it!" Broklaw raged, veins bulging along his neck.
"And neither will the women." Kastenn added, voice softer but as icy as the plains of their home planet. Well, I had them agreeing on one thing at least, a good start. As had been shown to me at the end of the Perlian campaign with the interactions between the Eldar and Guard units, a common foe can do wonders for integration.
I raised a hand for silence, and they quieted down, probably remembering that my hand could just as well be wielding my laspistol if I wished. I turned to the only officer that hadn't spoken yet this entire time. "And what of you, Divas? What do you think of my proposal?"
"The 12th is basically gone, with scattered survivors and less than half the numbers that either of the other regiments have left." The artillery captain replied blandly, giving a shrug. "And they'll go where Ciaphas goes, and trust what he says needs to be done." I gave a small, professional smile towards my friend for backing me up on this. It would help having another officer's support for my plans, rather than being seen to be unilaterally enforcing my will for the regiment.
"Thank you, Divas." I replied before turning my attention back to Kasteen and Broklaw, giving them one of my milder Commissarial Glares, Number Seven if I recall correctly. "We could be entering a hostile combat zone at any point, ladies and gentlemen. Frak, this ship could become a combat zone if the Gellar Fields fail when we're in the Warp. The regiment cannot believe that almost half of it would shoot the other half in the back. We need to build trust between the soldiers. I know that people say Life is the Emperor's Currency, but I'll be damned if it's squandered. Every trooper is important. And if one group can't trust another, the whole thing falls apart. Kasteen? Work with Broklaw and Divas to figure out the first fireteams; we need to know who can look at the others and not decide their squadmate is going to heroically die for the Emperor suspiciously far from the front lines, and out of sight."
Kasteen nodded, showing the determination and will that I would come to rely on in the future. "I'll see what I can do." She replied, nodding to Broklaw and Divas who nodded back. I also nodded, satisfied with this small show of cooperation, before continuing on.
"And that leads us to the next issue; the Regimental designation. We're not three regiments, but a single one with a singular identity, so we need to come up with a new designation we can all get behind with pride."
"You can't do that!" Sulla shouted, seemingly forgetting her place once again. "The 296th's battle record stretches back centuries!"
Broklaw snorted in contempt, egged on by her attitude once more as he crossed his arms and began talking down to her. "Fighting angry colonists, not Orks, Tyrannids-"
"Oh, were there Tyrannids on Corania? I guess I was too busy with my needlepoint to notice!" Sulla spat, cutting her superior officer off.
I moved to clear my throat, but Kasteen beat me to it. "SHUT UP! Both of you!" She barked, sending the two into stunned silence; no, wait. That was the 'Drill Sergeant is yelling' silence. Well done Kasteen, I was actually impressed at how she reasserted her leadership. She really was shaping up to be an excellent commander. Better than any blueblood officer who got in on nepotism. I'd have to ask The Emperor about that next time I saw Him(3). And boy, wasn't that an exciting thought; being able to see Him on Terra again! Seeing the face of my God-Emperor was more than worth the pain of being burned alive. I was brought out of my religious contemplation when I heard Kasteen finishing up with, "Let's see what the Commissar has to say first."
"Thank you, Colonel." I replied with gratitude. "I propose that the day of amalgamation to be the new day of First Founding. I've checked with the Administratium, and the designation of the Valhallan 609th is not currently in use."
"296 plus 301 and 12?" Broklaw inquired, arching an eyebrow in approving contemplation. I nodded in confirmation, feeling like this meeting was finally getting to the point of trying to get our new combined regiment on track.
"Exactly. A sign of unity between the three units. And before you interject, Lieutenant, the Commissariat provides me with a wide array of powers."
"Be very, very grateful it's Cai here." Divas said, eyes deadening in that way I'd come to associate with him thinking of 'Mostrue's Pet'. "The Commissar that the 12th got assigned while he was trapped behind Ork lines wouldn't have hesitated to decimate each of your regiments, merge them, and then decimate the merged regiment."
"...You're bluffing." Sulla whispered, face pale as were the faces of the other people not coming from the 12th that were in the small room.
"I have been informed that he had someone shot for having three buttons out of place." I replied grimly, only to see Divas shake his head.
"One button, Cai. That's why three would've done that trooper you warned in under the other one."
…What? I could see I wasn't the only one disturbed by that revelation, and I couldn't help showing my dismay. "Was he a servant of The Emperor or a servant of Khorne?!" I exclaimed in horrified disgust. Divas was about to shake his head again then paused, looking thoughtful and disturbed in equal amounts.
"Honestly… I don't know. What are the signs?"
Again I was reminded that I was fortunate as a Commissar to have been given training to spot the agents of the Ruinous Powers, rather than being kept in ignorance like most Guardsmen. "Did he make a point of shedding his victim's blood rather than giving them a clean lasbolt through the brain, seem overeager to enter melee combat, or have a fascination with the number eight?"
My heart dropped as Divas blinked and nodded. "Oh yeah, he did. All three of those, in fact. Why?"
I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. "That's Khorne's number, and the rest is typical Khornate behavior." I told him, cursing under my breath. "Emperor Damn it, Mostrue…" Then again, I was a Slaaneshi daemon. I guess he just had bad luck with Commissars.
Regardless, after that unpleasant discovery, we went back to discussing how we were going to bring our shattered regiment back together and get it back into shape.
As expected, there were many grumbles about the reorganization. Personally, I was happy that the regiment's new number, while beginning with it, was not divisible by six; that would have just been Slaanesh obviously mocking me. Thankfully, I didn't get lynched by the common troopers for daring to disband their beloved regiments like I had feared. The 12th were still kissing up to me, as the second I was gone everything for them had gone to hell. As a somewhat neutral third party between the other two groups, their opinion of me went a long way to bringing the others around. Additionally, those who I'd healed were also looking at me in a different light, which probably kept my skin on. So grumbling and muttered complaints was the worst of it as we started shifting squads around. After carefully taking stock of our numbers and equipment, we decided to organize the troops in squads of twelve; roughly five troopers from the 301st, five from the 296th, and two from the 12th which would act as an attached heavy weapons team using our plentiful mortars. I figured the nod to the 12th's past as an artillery regiment would help, since the former 301st and 296th troopers were more used to direct combat.
With the organization done, we got to work. Near constant drills. Assigned bunking so that squads would live together as much as possible (which would bite me in the ass later on but wasn't a major problem). Encouraging squads to eat together in the mess hall. Extra kitchen or latrine duties for anyone who said a cross word to their fellows. I even started bringing troopers in as squads to lodge any complaints they had with me as a group; I think genuinely listening to them and reasoning with them took the sting out of my other decisions.
To encourage further cooperation, I decided to give incentives. Sure, the more hardass Schola teachers would scream that I was committing heresy because I wasn't causing lazy troopers to die via lasbolt or bolter, but I knew from experience that there was nothing that could encourage a trooper more than the promise of rest or reward. So, I instituted a rule; the best platoon in the Regiment would get the last afternoon of the week off to do whatever they wanted, and the best squad there would get an extra alcohol ration for the next week. I can say with utmost sincerity that I have had troopers from different Regiments kiss the ground I walked on when I suggested such rewards to other members of the Guard(4). I was greatly encouraged when I saw a squad talking animatedly between each other about their ranking in their platoon. Between the drills, enforced closeness, incentives, and genuinely talking things out, the newly christened Valhallan 609th was starting to look like an actual regiment of the Astra Militarum rather than an unruly mob.
It was then that Demara and Tamworth, who'd been helping act as my eyes and ears amongst the troopers, came to me with what they phrased as an idea to further help unify the regiment. Taking a moment to admire the neatly tattooed aquila on one cheek and the numbers 609 on the other of Demara, I nodded that they should go ahead. I'd welcome almost any ideas on how to better integrate the regiment together. Their suggestion didn't come as much of a surprise to me, as I'd been well aware of their emotions over the last months.
"A wedding." I repeated mildly, arching an eyebrow to show polite curiosity. Demara blushed, for once in her life acting demurely, leaving Tamworth to explain their reasoning.
"I think it would be a good idea, sir. Give the troops something to gather around for and celebrate. Also remind them that, at the end of the day, they're still men and women."
Rubbing my chin, I contemplated that. "And what of regulations about fraternization?"
Fortunately, as a former arbites(5), Tamworth had thought ahead of any rules and standards that this might violate. "With respect, Commissar, Dem and I aren't official members of the Imperial Guard. We work for you, and so usual regulations don't apply to us. As for the regiment as a whole…" Here he shrugged. "As you've said often, it's mostly up to the Commissar to determine what is and isn't permitted, and what falls within the bounds of the rules. Is this stretching things a bit, allowing relationships? Probably. But the regiment has almost an equal number of men and women, and they're starting to get along now. Trying to keep them from getting even closer, when they'll be sharing barracks and foxholes together?" Here he grinned at me, Demara following suit. "Well, you've also said that you should never give an order that you know won't be obeyed, sir."
That was one of both the most flattering and frustrating things about having people who saw you as a holy Saint around; they followed your words closely and tended to commit them to memory. Still, I could find no fault in his logic. And a wedding with the following after party would do wonders for morale and regimental unity. Giving it another moment of thought, I finally smiled and nodded. "An excellent suggestion, you two. You certainly make for a fine example of two people formerly at odds who came together. I'll bring this up at my meeting with the officers, and then see if Captain Parjita wishes to perform the ceremony, as is his right." He probably would if he saw it as a favor to me, since I'd saved at least two of his provosts.
Demara then surprised me with something I wasn't expecting. "If it's alright, Commissar, if the ship's captain does perform the ceremony, would you be willing to give me away?"
I'll freely admit, I was touched. Demara was asking if I'd stand in for her absent father or guardian, showing just how much she looked up to me. Again, I smiled and nodded, and was able to be fully truthful with my next words. "I'd be honored."
Once I'd explained Demara and Tamworth's idea and reasoning, as well as my support of it, the other officers of the 609th were enthusiastic. After all, they'd all had precious little to celebrate with the trials they'd endured in the last months. The wedding was set to take place in four days' time (or at least four rotations of the ship's 'day' cycle), and the members of the 609th took to the preparations with a will. The fact that I was allowing them to take the time off from drills probably helped. Much as I anticipated, my friend the ship captain was happy to preside over the ceremony as the highest authority aboard this vessel. The officers of the other regiments on board had been invited, and a few actually came.
When the moment finally came, I walked Demara, clad in a dress the former members of the 296th (and a few from the 12th and 301st also) had made as their gift to her, down between two rows of troopers gathered in the largest hangar bay assigned to us. I'd made sure (or rather Jurgen had) that my uniform was spotless, with the leather and brass gleaming and even my precious aquila given an extra dose of polish. I smirked when I saw Tamworth's gobsmacked expression on seeing Demara, though I suppose it's a good thing I didn't tease him about it considering my own first sight of a certain woman a little while later(6).
The ceremony went extremely well, with the crowd as a whole cheering when Parjita pronounced the two to be wed in the eyes of the Emperor. The party afterwards was also a success, with the happy couple receiving many well wishers and small gifts. Demara's throw must have been off, because the bundle of ribbons standing in for flowers wound up caught by Kasteen even though she hadn't joined the crowd of ladies looking to catch the bouquet. I had no idea why she blushed so hard since as far as I know she had no romantic interests, though I did notice Illric looking at her throughout the celebration. Everything culminated in the tailors amongst the troops revealing that while they'd focused on Demara's dress, they'd also made a new regimental standard consisting of a crossed pair of mortar and lasgun over a very prominent aquila, and with the words 'Valhallan 609th' stitched proudly below.
My heart swelled with pride as everyone cheered at the revelation of the new standard before going back to the party, mingling freely. It was good to have this happy moment, because what came next would be considerably less so.
The final order of business to get the regiment fully functional was dealing with the case of the most egregious rioters. I'd left them confined in the brig to stew and mull over their actions while I got the rest of the regiment in order. While there had been no deaths on account of my reckless abuse of the Warp, there was still the fact that several of the troops had actually aimed to kill, or would have killed someone if I hadn't been in time with my powers. I knew that having a court martial for them would be suicidal for morale as several of them enjoyed some popularity amongst their fellow troopers, so I decided that I'd make them wish for death instead.
They had been brought to me to inspect within my office, Illric and Jurgen in the corners behind me with weapons ready in case they tried anything foolish and a full squad I'd selected at random waiting outside. Kelp had instigated the fight in the first place, and had been locked in a duel to the death with Corporal Tebek. From the way they were glaring at each other, I knew that the only thing keeping them from going at it again was that Illric, Jurgen, and I were right there. If it had just been a fight between those two, I could have had them given several lashes, assigned to punishment details, and given them a reduction in rank then called it a day. Unfortunately, their actions had started a potentially deadly riot, and they'd been going at each other with clear intent to kill. They were also, as I'd mentioned, popular amongst their comrades so I couldn't afford to go lightly on them lest the troops think they could also get away with such severe breaches of discipline.
Next was Sorel, an expert sniper who was just… empty. Not even to my Warp senses did any emotions register from him; if Jurgen was a blackhole and Felecia was darkened, then he was a walking corpse. I'd only met just a few people that dead on the inside before, and I didn't want to deal with any of them ever again. Even without being an emotion sensing Daemon Prince, I would have known there was something just WRONG with Trooper Maxim Sorel, as his eyes were dead to the world. Whenever he looked at anyone, I could tell that he was judging how easy they'd be to kill. He had been the one to slice open that provost's intestines; not out of an out of control rage, but because he had wanted to and had seen no reason not to. The only reason the captain of the ship wasn't breathing down my neck about his fate in particular was that the wounded provost who I'd given a 'tip' to had survived. And considering I'd been able to feed off of her and Captain Parjita's passive lust despite being half a ship away, I figured it was rather personal there. Again I thanked the Emperor that there were no deaths making this ordeal even more complicated and that the supreme authority on this ship was willing to be patient with my handling of things.
The final two were the two I would never have thought capable of actual murder; a medicae orderly by the name of Tomas Holenbi, who was incredibly frightened, and holding the hand of one Griselda Velade, who rounded out the top five. Surprisingly, the two had gotten along quite well before my arrival, and had become fast friends. The provost he'd stabbed in the neck with a broken plate had knocked Velade unconscious, and in a rage he'd come to her defense. As for Velade herself? She had been literally seconds away from having the blood of a comrade on her consciousness; she claimed it was a genuine accident, and the trooper who had almost suffocated after her punch crushed his windpipe agreed as he had heard her apologizing profusely before I had saved him. She had even been trying to keep him alive before getting knocked out. If any of them deserved mercy, it was those two. I marched up and down the line, thinking on how to work this out.
"You all do realize that you were mere inches away from murder, correct?" I asked them, voice mild yet with a tongue of threat and danger to it. "That a court martial and subsequent execution was almost certainly to be your fate, had I not arrived when I did?" There were nods from all of them; Sorrel's was bored, Tebek and Kelp were stiff and pointedly keeping their eyes on me, while Tomas and Griselda were both fearful and anxious. "Thankfully, I was there to save their mortal bodies, so that they could serve the God Emperor in this life for a little bit longer. This alone is probably the only reason you're not all being shipped to a penal legion or already dead at this very moment. However, the letter and spirit of the regulations tell me to execute you five…" Velade let out a sob, and Holenbi gulped while squeezing her hand. Emperor, those two were so young and generally innocent. I ended their despair by continuing with what I had to say. "But I, however, see it as a senseless waste to carry out such a sentence. Two of you are clearly repentant of your actions." I eyed the two holding hands, meeting their eyes and letting sympathy show within mine just for an instant before moving on. "And hopefully, soon the other three of you will be as well. And you'd better, since you'll be working together."
"S-sir?" Tomas whispered, a glimmer of hope in his eyes along with a healthy dose of confusion.
"To make sure such actions don't happen again, I will be placing all five of you into one fireteam. And, to appease the regulations, I will have your execution replaced with you five being volunteered for any particularly dangerous mission. But, if you survive said mission, you will be considered cleared of all charges, your debt to the Emperor's Justice repaid." I honestly wasn't sure why such an action was not done more often within the Guard. While there were certainly many unforgivable crimes which deserved an immediate lasbolt to the head, since there hadn't been any deaths or permanent injuries in this particular case I figured that 'One Voluntolding' would serve as a more useful and effective punishment. It would also give them a chance to redeem themselves while still being alive and with a chance for a life afterwards; partly I was being so generous because I knew that I'd be lynched if I started shooting them, and partly because I really, really wanted to believe that The God-Emperor was one to give second chances when able to(7).
As for the others who'd been involved in the riot? Well I'd dealt with them long before this since their crimes weren't as serious. The occasional light flogging, KP, and, in Sulla's case since she'd foolishly started the whole thing with that ceramics stunt, one night of latrine duty the day after Chef's Surprise; and Jurgen had an upset stomach that day too(8). It was after the final five's punishment was doled out that I met up with the rest of the command staff of the new 609th. Divas had just come in with the newest messages from the Astropath.
"We're getting deployed." He said, accepting a cup from Jurgen and sitting to join Kasteen and Broklaw. Illric had started attending these meetings as our Eldar advisor, though why he started caring to come to them I had no idea as he mostly spent the time trying to irritate Kasteen based upon the angry flushes in her cheeks whenever she met his gaze. Sulla was there also, if for no other reason than I wanted to keep an eye on her so she didn't do anything stupid again.
"Where too?" I asked, hoping that it'd be some backwater where we'd be a rear guard and not have to worry about anything. Divas shrugged nonchalantly, more focused on his morning tanna than any consideration for our next warzone. Still, he did at least give us a name.
"Some minor Agri World called Gravalax, way out in the boonies of the Damocles Gulf." It was only later, once I was actually on Gravalax, that I learnt that he'd severely understated how far out the planet was; it was damn near completely surrounded by T'au held space with only a tiny corridor connecting it to the greater Imperium.
"Never heard of it." Was my blunt reply, completely unaware of what a cluster-frak the strategic situation concerning this planet was. And much like Divas, at that time I didn't particularly care about it; to me Gravalax was just another name, another world that was His Divine Majesty's by right. Of course, this attitude would become a crowning irony in my existence as this was the place where I would meet the most fascinating and dangerous(9) woman of my life, and where said woman got to see what happens when the aquila comes off.
Except from 'By the Saint's Hand: The Forging of the Valhallan 609th Regiment'(10) by Lady General Jenit Sulla
"The Commissar-Saint never explained to me why he included me in the meetings of the senior staff so often. At the time I was a mere Lieutenant, freshly promoted, and more experienced arranging supplies than leading women and men of the Imperial Guard. Furthermore, he'd made his displeasure at my thoughtlessness clear with the punishment detail assigned to me. I had a long time to think that night as I cleaned, breathing through a gas mask; tears came to my eyes as the stench still managed to come through. Of course my experience there would save my life later in my career during a biological gas attack, as after my punishment detail I made sure to always have my gasmask at hand and learned how best to use it; I've even gotten compliments from Kriegers on my gasmask discipline."
"Regardless, I was certain that I was low in the Commissar's regard, and I'd realized I had nobody to blame but myself. It was my careless decision that helped initiate the Mess Hall Riot, and afterwards I'd been dismissive of the Commissar to the point where he had to threaten me to get me to stop and listen. Though I will challenge anyone who may think he went too far to a duel, as even in his reprimands the Commissar was as kind as befits his Saintly status."
"As I said, I was certain the Commissar didn't think much of me, so the fact that I was invited to his meetings with the Colonel and other senior officers was puzzling. It took me weeks of sitting there in almost complete silence to finally realize what was going on, and when I did I was stunned. The Commissar-Saint was giving me a second chance. A chance to learn and experience what it was like to be in command, to observe other officers in the planning and execution of their duties. Despite everything, he believed in my potential, and wanted me to succeed for both my own sake and the God-Emperor's glory."
"That night I wept, humbled and repentant. How could such a great and holy man, with the Emperor's own blessing and powers, be so humble and kind yet firm and commanding? I swore to learn everything I could from observing both my commanding officers, and from watching Saint Cain. My career, every success, every triumph, and everything I am I owe to his example, his gentle and subtle guidance."
"As I write these words, my chest weighed down by medals I have earned and millions of soldiers entrusted to my command, I only hope that I have lived up to his expectations."
1: Cain is leaving out the part of the tradition where if the troops determine that the CO and/or Commissar is unfit, they instead dunk them in said barrel, and hold them there.
2: Cain is referring to the rebellion of the Men of Iron, one of two major blows that the old human government suffered which caused Mankind's first interstellar empire to collapse, starting the Age of Strife.
3: According to Ciaphas, he learned seventeen ways to curse someone's family in 15 dead languages when he did so, for a grand total of 255.
4: Cain's Round, as it is called, spread like wildfire throughout the Imperial Guard. Usually, the cycle would be that it was employed with reluctance by the higher-ups, trooper efficiency would skyrocket, and then the officers who'd implemented the practice would brag about it to their fellow commanders. Said peers would treat such testimonies with a good dose of skepticism, before testing it on their own units. There have been several key battles won because of troopers standing their ground or performing acts of heroism beyond the call of duty because, and I quote: "I've got that afternoon nap calling my name!".
5: While a law enforcement officer, Tamworth wasn't actually a member of the Adeptus Arbites. However due to so many worlds having different names for their local law enforcement, seasoned travelers like Cain tend to use arbites or arbitrators as a catch-all term to refer to any law enforcer.
6: Ciaphas sure knows how to make me blush.
7: Voluntolding has also become a common punishment among members of the Guard, thanks to Cain's use of it. Many have seen it as him having gained Enlightenment from The Emperor to give these souls one more chance. An officer by the name of Schaeffer in particular became a major proponent of this system, offering many Imperial Guard troopers a last chance for redemption.
8: I am almost certain that this may have come from Ciaphas' daemonhood; Inquisitorial Interrogators have voiced their horror at such a punishment. I have had the… experience of walking into a bathroom when Jurgen had an 'upset stomach', and it became a common memory enemy Psykers will pull up. Having a Thousand Sons Sorcerer give me a gentle hug and tell me that I was going to be okay after seeing that made me stare at a wall for some time (Even if he said no one would believe me).
9: I'll take that as a compliment…
10: Lady General Sulla once confided in me that she'd considered titling her memoir 'Like A Phoenix From The Flames', but felt it didn't give enough credit to Ciaphas' role in creating the 609th. Also, based upon some of her encounters alongside Cain, she came to feel that comparing a single Imperial Guard regiment to the legendary phoenix would be rather gauche. If nothing else, I suppose instilling a sense of humility and thoughtfulness in Sulla should be considered another Miracle of Cain.