#Commissar Arc

[patriot2525]

Has any of the Arc's spared with Cardin since the explosion. Like I can see why Goodwitch wouldn't let Cardin fight any of them. Grimm Arc has a strong chance of "accidently" killing him. Commissar Arc has a strong chance of deliberately killing him and while Russian Arc is unlikely to kill him it would be so one sided that no one would learn anything, guy with a Tesla gun and being to old to deal with bullshit Vs a guy in metal armour

The reason why none of the Jaune's had spared with Cardin is do to him Still in the nurses office from his severe injuries. Cardin has 80% of his body burned to the crisp, as well having his entire bones shattered and broken from just being slammed to the ground. And it’s considered that Nikolai went very delicately easy on him, because to him Cardin is a fragile little cockroach that can be easily crashe underneath his boot.

but if we talking about how powerful each of Jaune’s are, it’s very simple.

Commissar Arc #3: he is very skilled Swordsman and gunslinger, his capable with every weapon that imperium has, he even knows how to use some of the Xenos weapons, which he prefer not to use at all due to him not wanting to touch the heretical technology of the Xenos. his semblance Which he considered and very believes that is the God Empress blessing, the Empress light that’s what he calls his semblance allows him to see the corruption of chaos within any men, such example a heretical inquisitor that was part of cult that was planning to destroy a industrial world, was identified by him later on executed by the Inquisition and the green Knight. The Emperor holy light grants him powers that should him from any whispers corruption of chaos making him immune to their powers, he’s only vulnerable when he’s aura is shattered. But despite everything, the commissar is still a simple mortal man, yes he very skilled in battle and in mind, but compared to the other Jaune’s he is the least powerful.

Grimm Arc #2: he is very powerful human Grimm hybrid, His powers given by the God of darkness, allows him to control and create any Grimm he can imagine. His primarily uses his dark magic that makes his enemies fall to fear and despair upon them. Grimm Arc prefers to use stealth and infiltration tactics, he likes to play with his enemies before union doom upon them. he is very sadistic towards his enemies using his semblance and magic to spread chaos to his enemies. He can make his body parts to change into anything he wants like lawn claws, shark tail, wings, or tentacles that he usually prefer to rip apart his enemies peace by peace. Grimm is indeed a very powerful one, but he still has his limits to his power, as well, he still learning how to use them.

Soviet Arc #1: He is the most skilled and Powerful out of all Jaune’s, as said earlier, his semblance and aura has mutated when he was living on earth. it changed his physical body, making him stronger, faster, smarter, and many other things that pass any talented people. His semblance aura amplification has mutated that he can generate his aura non-stop giving him endless reserve of aura, as well, he can amplify every part of his body non-stop to the point that he semblance works automatically with without him noticing at all. His embodiment of a living weapon, he cannot be injured as his body can regenerate any damage, including damage limbs or destroyed organs or anything else. Nikolai is considered the most powerful and dangerous man that exist on earth and remnant. Because of his powers and skills he gained many titles by he’s enemies during many wars he was a part of. The Butcher of London, The Pillager of Paris, Soviet Dracula, And most famously Warmaster. and he has many titles given by his allies and his people. Liberator of Africa, protector of the week, angel of salvation, Marshall of Justice. Nikolai is considered the most powerful and most dangerous out of all Jaune’s, even though he haven’t showed his full power and all of his abilities, so only God knows what this man truly capable of.

so basically his the least of how powerful each of the Jaune’s is. Do you know that I didn’t put everything that I wanted to write as I didn’t want to spoil everything just yet, there’s still many things about Jaune’s that I didn’t show yet. So stick around and you will see what the powers and ability each of them have.

[howlingday]

RWBY Idea:

Mortal Enemies

What if Jaune and Tyrian have a similar relationship to Commissar Yarrick and Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka? Jaune lives in constant fear of Tyrian and everything he represents, while Tyrian will drop whatever he's doing, even if he's doing something for Salem, to fight Jaune.

[taryn40k]

*peeks through the door*

What delightful thing have you found here, lord inqui----*Gets side punched out of frame by the grey knight*

"I would really appreciate not having anyone unprepared exposed to our guest. And by that I mean that it is vital to restrict his exposure to anyone else on this ship, for all of our safeties."

[novankenn]

To Regain Honor

/=/ 9 Months Ago /=/

Jaune sighed as he stepped through the opening elevator doors, and into Headmaster Ozpin’s office. The sigh became a growl when he saw his sister Saphron Cotta-Arc also in attendance.

“Mr Arc, or should I say Commissar Arc, thank you for your prompt arrival.”

“What is SHE doing here?”

“I am here,” Saphron cut in before the Headmaster could answer, “To correct your mistake.”

“Mistake? What mistake would that…”

“You are being charged with dereliction of duty, dear brother, and unless you return to Ansel with me at once… you could face charges of treason.”

“Father wouldn’t!”

“The Sky Marshall, our father, can not show favoritism. You know this. You are an ARC, we must be held to a higher standard, and you have been found wanting.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I will be forced to physically apprehend and restrain you.”

“Headmaster you…”

“I’m afraid Mr Arc that my hands are tied in this regard.” Ozpin sighed, “These charges being levied against you are also valid here in Vale, and as such I have to allow you to be taken into custody.”

“There has…”

“There is, Jaune.” Saphron reached into the pocket of her overcoat and pulled out a small object. She moved forward and placed it on the edge of Ozpin’s desk, in perfect view of Jaune. “You know what that signifies.”

“Administrative Punishment.” Jaune answered as he reached out and picked up the hand width sized tightly rolled piece of leather.

“Surrender yourself to me, now, and submit your self to Administrative Punishment, in addition to taking a demotion to rank, and this… incident will be forgotten.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I arrest you, and you face a Tribunal.”

 “Can I think about…”

“You’ve had ten months to think about the choices you have made. Make a decision, and make it now.” was Saphron’s cold reply.

( Previous - Next )

[kaaragen]

All righty, my thoughts on Ahsoka!

I think it's okay. I enjoyed watching it, and I like being around the characters again. There are a lot of things that have 'cause for concern' but I'm going to withhold final judgement until I see how it plays out. Filoni is definitely Lucas' Padawan - in that he can't direct actors for shit, pace a scene or write dialogue that feels like something people would actually say.

Things I liked:

Chopper was great, as was his little banter with Hera. And, contrarily to seemingly everyone, I actually like Hera. Yes, she looks like the porn parody version (the flat lighting is not helping), but she does feel like the character, and also a natural evolution of that character as someone who has been both a general and a single parent.

The visuals are actually quite good - couldn't spot any ropey CGI or Volume work so that's a plus.

The story is set up nicely, Morgan works as an effective villain. Baylan and Shin are a bit one-dimensional, but we're two episodes in and I like their vibe.

I liked The Phantom Menace homages. Less enamoured with the homage to it's wooden acting and flat place.

The other galaxy - a neat way of expanding the Universe. Though now my mind is filled with the idea of it being the 40K galaxy, and thus images of Commissar Thrawn and Ordo Malleus Inquisitor Ezra XD

(...I'm going to have to write this fic now aren't I? -_-)

My minor annoyances:

Just do a proper opening crawl for God's sake!

The narrative contrivances were...a bit much. I don't mind one or two, it's Star Wars they're all over the place, but them piling up to get the plot to work was annoying. From the captain 'calling their bluff' by...doing exactly what Baylan wanted instead of, you know, keeping their highly important prisoner safe by not letting them aboard; to a third HK droid just hanging about at Sabine's house, instead of, I don't know, self-destructing and killing everyone in Lothal?

The Imperial infiltrators stuff is starting to grate. Because it could be done well - there's something to be explored in the idea that leading rebellions are different from leading governments, there are different challenges and various ways cynics can take advantage of that and corrupt ideals etc. But the way it's done just makes the New Republic look stupid.

The episode one cliffhanger was daft. We know Sabine's not going to die; and if she's going to get stabbed it should have an actual impact on the plot but bacta means that didn't happen. I can see why they decided on a two-episode premiere as that would have been a really weak ending.

Things with question marks:

Sabine. I don't mind her being a Jedi - feels a bit out of nowhere, but the idea of a non-Force sensitive (or weak Force-sensitive) training to be one, and compensating through other means, sounds fine. But I'm not sure it's something that works for her character. Wanting to learn to better defend Lothal etc. I get, but actually being a Padawan? Seems odd. Especially as we already got this story with the Darksabre arc.

The petulant teenager stuff bothered me when I watched it, but I've mellowed after a friend pointed out that Sabine has had trouble with family. She got denounced by her biological family, then her found family broke up at the end of Rebels. Makes sense that she'd be a bit lonely, cling to Ahsoka looking to recreate that and then react badly when it went wrong. So regressing feels natural, though I'm hoping that's over with now.

I'm not keen on her relationship with Ahsoka. Having them be a failed Master and Apprentice duo feels a bit like trying to force a relationship that didn't exist into being because I don't they exchanged a single word in Rebels. I would have preferred it if they didn't have much of one and their journey together explored their characters.

Ahsoka. She's about what I've come to expect from the recent series. But the Paragon Jedi stuff really doesn't suit her. I don't mind her 'I walked away from Anakin' line - I can see how survivor's guilt would lead to look back on things that way and think 'I could have saved him'. But a pin in it - it'll depend on how this is explored in the show as to whether I come to like or dislike this.

So overall, cautious but not turned off yet.

[fandomflotilla]

RWBY 40K

Tldr: RWBY characters transposed to warhammer 40K.

Sister Ruby of the Order of the Sacred Rose: As a Junior member of the Sororitas, she was charged with the safeguarding of her local chapter of the Sisters of Battle. Her first mission as the lead was to assist the 229th Valhallan Imperial Guard Regiment with the extermination of a small heretic group. However, when she and her partner returned, they found their chapter annihilated, with all her sisters slaughtered. At first mislabelled in Imperial records as dead alongside her chapter, and with nowhere else to go, she and her fellow Battle Sister, Yang, decided to attach themselves to the 229th until the Ecclesiarchy gets around to reforming their chapter, or bothers reassigning them. Fortunately, her fascination with weaponry and mechanics mean she’s been able to keep her and Yang’s battle suits in good working order.

Sister Yang of the Order of the Sacred Rose: While technically a higher ranking member of the Sororitas than Ruby, that is a distinction that mostly exists on paper. She does have more combat experience and leadership experience, but the two sisters are so close, they rarely need to pull rank on each other. They were brought into the Sororitas convent at around the same time, and due to Ruby’s skill, were often treated as equals despite the age difference. Even within the convent, they were often teased for being much closer to literal sisters than fellow Sororitas. After the convent was destroyed, along with most records of their existence, they have quietly started claiming they were half-sisters, to ensure that whatever happens, they would be kept together.

Commissar Weiss Schnee: Commissar Schnee was attached to the 229th scant weeks before the Sororitas arrived. Her first outing as Commissar…did not end well. Due to her fawning over the 229th’s commanding officer, Sergeant Nikos, and the harsh disciplinary measures she imposed on the 229th, Commissar Schnee accidentally facilitated a heretic ambush that would have destroyed much of the 229th, were it not for the timely intervention of the Sisters of Battle, Ms Belladonna, and Commissar Arc. Her family is quite highly connected on holy Terra, to the point that there are multiple inquisitors in the Schnee line, which made Weiss’s decision to become a commissar and join the front lines of the Imperial Guard…controversial. After that disastrous first impression, she has gradually warmed up to Commissar Arc, the errant Sisters, and the various soldiers in her care.

Lieutenant Blake Belladonna: A felinid subspecies of human, she had a varied career as a gang member, recruit in the Vale Planetary Defense Forces, before finally joining a Felinid rights group in the Hive City she grew up in. Over time she realized that her group was being subsumed by something…wrong. While not exactly fond of baseline Humans, she still placed some faith in the God-Emperor, and she initiated contact with a nearby chapter of the Adeptus Sororitas to ask for assistance. Unfortunately, by the time the Chapter sent aid, in the form of two heavily armed Sisters of Battle, things had already taken a turn for the worst. The 229th Valhallan regiment, sent months ago to quell what was thought to be light rebel activity in the bowels of Hive City Vale, had made landfall, and engaged the enemy without any knowledge of its true strength. Blake and the Sisters, as well as a particularly awkward commissar, rushed to assist the 229th, saving them from a deadly ambush. However, the chaos taint had already subsumed the bowels of Vale, and the 229th, much to the protestations of Blake, evacuated with whatever civilians they could fit onto their spacecraft, as Demons tore the city apart. After that action, with nowhere else to go, Blake joined the 229th as a Lieutenant, helping several of the refugees integrate into the 229th as new recruits.

[razistoricharka]

The house is unfucked now, I fixed the washing machine and fridge, we got a new fuse, I'm managing the trash since we cleared out with the skip, I would be such a good political commissar, place is livable, insanity arc is over... guys...

I have my own room now and everyone's actually putting in some effort I'm in charge... wait holy shit it didn't even dawn on me until now

[asktheraggededges]

For Alice Boone: How could an inadvertent panty shot be embarrassing wwhenyou've literally bodyswapped with Conrad multiple times? Gotta stop rolling nines, girl.

There’s different sorts of mortification out there.

I wont lie - returning to my own body to discover my hair was wet and that my body smelled of soap and therefore had been washed while the commissar had been it it was titanically embarrassing. And her incredibly flat and logical explanation somehow made it worse.

If you borrow something from somebody and you get it dirty, you wash it before you return it. It’s just good manners.

She didn’t have to put it like that!

But I mean, on some level the commissar has seen me naked or undressed a bunch of times because she lacks any real sense of sexuality or social graces. I’ve...sort of gotten used to that.

But having my own clothes fight back against me and then have the commissar think I was sick was somehow a new and terrible sort of embarrassing.

Made me feel clownish.

But hey - six months no phenomena. New record.

[lightdancer1]

My rule with the Azula/Hoelun relationship is that it is in its own way a mirror of how far on the grimdark scale any given AU is

The Continuation-verse, the Sins-verse, and the Dragon-verse are all pretty high on that list. So that means with the Omashu-verse and the Azula Heresy that there will be versions of the relationship that emerge in each, though each one will be a path that evolves down a line of actually evolving and getting to a point where it's earned by both. Hoelun as a child soldier recruited early on and surviving in an equivalent of the Dirlewanger Brigade in the Fire Nation does not happen in the relatively lighter and softer AUs.

The only grimdark AU she doesn't show up in is the Fire and Water and Earth and Air AU but there Azula and Toph are married, so... *shrugs*

For the lighter and softer Fire Sage AU there will be a new character Azula falls in love with there, reflecting that it's a best-case scenario and that AU Fire Nation never raises the mass of child soldiers to begin with, so Hoelun's particular arc is avoided due to her being too young for military service.

I admit to using different iterations of the relationship not least because Hoelun as a bit of a mirror to Azula and someone much more like the Comedian to her Captain America works very well as a foil to her, and it basically offers an established brand of queer visibility and centering a butch lesbian when butch characters are not that frequent in media.

Hoelun also serves as a 'lower deck' protagonist showcasing the effects of the various grimdark Fire Nations and how they affect rank and file people. I will say that in the Azula Heresy AU she gets one of the most blatant 40K shout-outs as she becomes the equivalent of a Commissar/Politruk and at least initially starts off the most directly villainous of any of her AU versions by virtue of also embodying the older iteration of 40K where she's entirely aware the God-Empress thing is a scam but it gives her power over people who hurt her and she *enjoys* it. And then she gets given the order to hunt down the arch-heretic....

In the Omashu AU Hoelun's arc is intended to be something of a surprise element when it does show up so I intend to have that one held close to the chest until that moment happens in the specific chapter there.

[gunnerpalace]

So how would you rewrite it? I think you said something about doing that?

That would be the subject of Hyperchlorate Part III. (Part II again being detailing everything that went wrong, and Part I being going over what made the story unique.)

In essence there are the four major changes I would make to Bleach:

Radically expand upon (and show, don’t tell) character relations in the story. We are repeatedly told that so and so are friends, or family, or colleagues, or whatever, and we essentially never see it (outside of Tatsuki and Orihime at the very beginning). It’s critical to caring about and interlinking the characters and seeing them grow and develop. For example, someone made a point that the Xcution arc demonstrates Ichigo’s bonds with Soul Society are stronger than with his own friends. That’s true, and you can see it in the Japanese cultural context of him using their first names (even for Toushirou!) whereas he keeps calling Uryuu and Orihime by Ishida and Inoue. There’s a definite social distance there. But it’s a subtle thing. And it really needs to not be subtle. There needs to be a lot more interactions between characters; plenty of characters literally never interact at all, and plenty of characters look fucking terrible for their apparent gross negligence that serves zero point other than to maintain the Mystery Boxes (here’s looking at you, Isshin, Ryuuken, and Kisuke).

Recontextualize everything after the Soul Society arc. I am not opposed to certain places, people, or concepts (e.g., Hueco Mundo, the Espada, Fullbring, the Soul King, etc.) but the way they were introduced and handled was, frankly, garbage. Arrancar, at least, were set up rather early on. The rest… was a bunch of ex nihilo shit. It came out of nowhere with no setup. I also don’t really enjoy the thematic inversion of Hueco Mundo seemingly purely for the sake of subverting expectations. So, I would restructure everything that happens after that point in gross detail.

Refit, standardize, and clearly and consistently implement and allude to the grand plot. If there was going to be some grand purpose to the Bleach universe, it needed to be made clear textually, not just thematically, throughout the story. It needs to be set up to the reader, if not to the characters, very early on so they “get” what everything is building toward. That absolutely was not done.

Having a real ending that actually involves our protagonists making a substantive change. I’ve definitely been over this before.

That’s all well and good, right? So what sort of things would I actually look to change?

As an example of the high-level stuff… In terms of narrative, internal consistency, and plot, the whole Substitute Shinigami thing makes no fucking sense. It makes literally zero sense that Ginjou was the first one in several thousand years, and Ichigo was only the second. It makes zero sense that a technique to transfer powers to humans exists and is taught at the academy, can be known to have a “low chance of success,” and then made a crime when it’s happened a grand total of two times, unless it was all a long con just to catch Ginjou, and in that case it’s dumb because he doesn’t matter. (We’re supposed to believe Soul Society allows Hollows to run roughshod everywhere but they’re really obsessed about catching this one dude but not enough to actually task anyone powerful to go do it? No, none of that makes sense.)

It also doesn’t make any sense that there are only a grand total of 6,000 to 7,000 Shinigami to patrol its nebulously defined area of responsibility. (Is it the whole world? Is it just Japan? If the latter, are there other Soul Societies? If the former, where are the foreigners? Sure seem to be a lot of people who look foreign, but they all have Japanese names and speak Japanese in a manga that clearly at least recognizes Mexico. Why would foreigners accept a feudal Japanese afterlife? This is another small example of what I mean by the grand plot being fucked.)

It also doesn’t make a lot of sense that the only Shinigami worth a damn are Captains, Lieutenants, and the occasional Seated Officer. (This is canonical, by the way.) Almost all of them are total trash who would lose to the most basic bitch Hollow, let alone an Arrancar. Meanwhile, your average Quincy can mop the floor with all three.

You know what would make a lot more sense, and work better with what’s on paper? Here are some ramblings from my notes on this subject:

i think it’s sorta like… you wanna mirror the structure of the Hollows; Shinigami as a whole are like Menos, although they are almost all Arrancar (there could be some very low-ranked/new Shinigami who do not have shikai, these would be the “rookies”), whereas substitute Shinigami are like masked Hollows, with some overlap into Gillians/Menos Grande

- Captains (General Officers) are at the level of the Espada (with obvious differences among them correlating to Espada generated from Vasto Lordes and Adjuchas)- Lieutenants (Staff Officers) are at the level of the Privaron Espada and some of the stronger fracciones- Seated Officers (Officers) are at  the level of most fracciones and wild Adjuchas [sometimes from the 4th Seat up are more on the level of the above, e.g., Ikkaku and Yumichika]- Unseated Officers (NCOs) are at the level of weak fracciones, or on the order of holding off a Gillian- Substitute Shinigami (Enlisted) are at the level of individual Hollows

Substitute Shinigami are basically what Soul Society sets up to deal with the Living World rather than directly intervening, because “they have better shit to do;” they’re probably set up like a secret society of beat cops, and yeah, if the Shinigami proper notice spiritually sensitive people while setting up new districts or maintaining their assigned ones, they shank'em and induct'em (usually these people attract Hollows anyway so it’s a “become one of our grunts or die” type deal; maybe if they refuse, the Shinigami kill them instead for shirking their duties?)Hollows aren’t the only spooky thing running around in the night either; they’re probably relatively rare, and other weird shit like revenants and ghosts are more common

i also have some notes here about how it’d be cool if Substitute Shinigami were like, an established thingand were expendable gruntswith actual Shinigami being rather more elite, even if they’re not seatedlike it’s XCOM with supernatural shithaving shikai should be a big fucking deal; even knowing kidou should be like, impressiveyour average Hollow should be equivalent to a Substitute Shinigamian unseated Shinigami should be like a Menos Grandea Shinigami good at kidou and a weak zanpakutou should be like a weak Arrancara seated Shinigami should be like a medium Arrancar and know shikai for surelieutenants should be like Privaron Espadaand captains should be like the Espada (or higher)

I could go on, but I think you get the idea. My first big change to Bleach would be dispensing with the concept of substitutes as being rare. They should be the main interface for the human world (and expendable, and have a high turnover rate). Rukia being there should be A Big Deal. (Have her sent there specifically to monitor things, like a Commissar? To look for Grand Fisher? Whatever.)

Ginjou, were he to exist, would then need a different backstory, but that would be real easy to build out.

As an example of additional character interaction, I’ve already detailed my idea that Kisuke and Yoruichi should be Rukia’s surrogate parents. (And solving the problem of when Rukia got the Hogyouku.)

As another example, it has never made sense to me that Rukia is the one that stays to fight Shrieker while she tells Ichigo to take Karin home. Rukia knows her powers are iffy at best, and should know better. She damn near almost dies (along with Chad) for no reason other than… ??? For dramatic tension and to reveal Chad can attack Hollows, I guess. Even Ichigo calls her out on it. It should’ve been flipped, with Karin revealing things to Rukia and learning about her, and that should be built into Karin repeatedly noticing the two of them (which was never, ever paid off in any fashion whatsoever). This is just one example of more moments of character interaction outside of fights.

As an example of reworking things, I like the ideas of turning the hunt for Aizen into something more like Apocalypse Now, that Aizen kidnaps Karin and Yuzu instead of Orihime, and that his hideout is deep in Rukongai instead of Hueco Mundo:

in one of these posts, @icchiruki was like, Aizen shouldn’t have run off to Hueco Mundohe should’ve run into Rukongaiand that’s geniusbecause it makes him more sympathetic because they have a legit reason to be aggrieved with Soul Societyand also lets us see the other side of the coinwhich, conveniently, leads toward my idea of the HM arc as being more like Heart of Darkness/Apocalypse Now, with Aizen as the equivalent of Kurtz out among the Montagnardsand also lets there be some spooky eldritch shit like whatever was going on with Ukitake and folk belief in TYBW, but less out-of-nowherebecause it’s pretty clear that whatever’s going on with the divine in Bleach is fuckin’ weird and Lovecraftianwhich can tie into that other bit of work i was doing with “where does all this come from anyway”so you stitch it all together and pull the seams snug and you get an actual expansive worldthen you keep the focus squarely on Ichigo, Rukia, and co., as they navigate through itthe further out into Rukongai you go, the weirder it should get; Shinigami should also routinely get sent to Hueco Mundo (both of these being the more important shit they gotta deal with) and recon and do stuff there; Hueco Mundo itself should be less empty wasteland, more kind of weird dark mirror of Soul Societylike a Kill Six Billion Demons type deal

These are just examples. I could go on.

tl;dr Make Bleach much longer and more personable and personally relatable, show your hand on some of the mysteries and backstories much earlier, and make it simultaneously more fuckin’ weird and more human.

[thousandsonpyrae]

The Rubric hissed as he led the attrition against the lashes of the Lion’s astartes supplementing the Imperial Guard in their greedy defence. Bolters barking in numbing muteness, claiming lives as his bleating hordes. Their ichors splashing and sizzling off his blood-scarlet armour, melding into the hellish gold of trim. “In the name of our Wise King, we move for knowledge.” 

The men and women unheaved from their dull slavery under the Corpse-Emperor to the hopeful change to the coming Ascendency praised that of Magnus’ promise and the Lying God that claimed the XVth Legion as Its. The animated Rubric once called Aaron has long forsaken hope of freedom, only the grim acceptance. 

Closer and closer, trotting of the pulverized bodies of Tzaangor and cultist-warriors to the sliced and shot forms of the Imperium’s thralls. He almost didn’t seem to notice the back-rank commissar engaging him in the miniscule exchange of power blade to force blades. 

The Rubric moved with a startling speed lost in his stride. In two distinctions, it deflected the first and only swing that the Commissar made and relieved him off his head in the next, seemingly same, motion! Blood flying into arcs, unnaturally slow for their flight until a signil of power burned into the air. How it caught and pulled the growing pools of war’s tribute to Tzeentch.

No matter the facets, all of these gods were the same; bloody, ravenous faes of malign desire twisted by Mankind’s overpowerful fantasies and whims. This one, long-waited, plan weaved in the Rubric’s short moments of self-awareness was coming into fruitation. 

The Souls screamed and loose from their mortal coils weaved around him, yet to be snatched by daemons or their greater portions. He could feel his current Leashmaster’s arrogant attention turning on him in curiosity. Never had a Rubricae did anything other than what they command it. None returned a true response and many has lost hope to ever seeing their ashen brothers.

Today, on this world, the Thousand Sons in this Ritual of Damnation will see a step. 

By the spark-induced rake of khepeshi, the blood burned into the incandescent feather of the Pyrae Pheonix and every soul of the battle thrusted themselves into the shell of Aaron. Pulling and shining between the grains of his psychic-blue ashes, awakening the potency that he wielded a lifetime ago. By that barest difference of the taught psychic-masters that now ruled the legion to the warriors that filled their ranks was crossed.

And the first thing that the ghost-warrior did was scream!

“Magnuuuus!”

[patriot2525]

Joint Battle Planning.

General Ironwood was inside the Flagship War Room, Devising a plan against the growing threat known as the White Fang. With The recent Heists of multiple dust shops made by the Fang's, caused increased in negative emotions of the people of Vale, its attracts Grimm to to the city with their numbers are growing day by day.

So he Immediately needed to come up with the plan, that will resolve all those problems at once, before the festival starts.

Fortunately, he was not alone.

Ironwood Looks up at the two that were with him In the room, Soviet Marshall Nikolay Arkovsky and Commissar Jaune Arc. both of those military men, got the general’s curiosity after the incident with Commissar Arc and specialist Schnee. As well, the other incident that occurred with the entire specialist Team when they encounter Marshall Arkovsky.

So now, the three military man were in the middle of discussion on their course of actions.

Ironwood: Gentleman, I propose that we start by sending Patrols around the streets of Vale, the patrols will be done by the new Atlesian Knight-200. with their presence, they will reassure civilians that they are safe and that we will protect them from any threats.

Nikoay: *glances at the general* This Will be a good start. *Looks down at the hologram map* But it won't solve the problems that Vale is having. *Points to the images of robbed dust shops* The White Fang Will continue with their robberies once they will learn how the new Knights operate. *Looks back at the general* I give it two weeks at best Until they learn to avoid your machines without getting noticed.

Ironwood: *Looks at the Marshall* Do you have any suggestions that we can counter it?

Nikoay: You earlier mention that you received the councilman’s full authority over the defence of the city, is that right?

Ironwood: *Nods his head* Yes.

Nikoay: Then that's mean you have full Authority over the Vale’s police department and Vale’s militia. With tham Being at your command, We can create Patrol groups that would be consisted of the Vales police, Vales militia and your’s Knights. *Stops talking, waiting for the Commissar to continue for him*

Commissar Arc: So with the help of the local militia and the cities Adeptus Arbites force, can assist your… automatons *uttering those words with some hesitant, as the Commissar does not hide his disliking to the abominable intelligence that is the Atlesian Knights* With their assistance they will fill the necessary gaps that your automatons possess.

Ironwood: Oh, I see. *Nods his head as The general Puts his hand under his chin, Now fully Understands what the Marshall and Commissar plan. with the help of police and militia not only they will provide expertise and knowledge of the city street, but also will show the unity between the kingdoms of Vale and Atlas. the Knights will provide the necessary numbers, while the police and Militia Provide the necessary human factor that will fill the gap in the Atlas robots, as well it will give them large number of patrol squats they can be spread all over the city, without them stretching thin their resources. Truly those men are geniuses, think the general as he looks at them with a small smile on his face* This Will benefit us in a very long run.

Nikoay: *Nods his head at the general* it will give us a more effective patrol squats that will patrolling the city 24/7. it will make that Fang won’t be able move freely anymore. The only options for them to move freely will be in the underground sewers of the city, which if put some surveillance cameras as well as some patrol squats in there, We will jeopardized the White Fang's entire operation of obtaining dust. the other option for them getting more dusts is from legal means by purchasing it, which we can easily track any large purchase of dust in every dust shop in the city. So no Matter what they do, we made sure that their hands will be tied up.

Commissar Arc: *step forward to Put his own input* It also will force those mutants into hiding, which means they will be all gathered in one place. With this, we can give us an opportunity in capturing filthy mutants leaders.

Ironwood: *Nods at this idea, while being slightly surprised by the Commissar extreme hostility towards the Faunus* Yes, it will. but how we find their hideouts, and how are you Intended on doing it.

Nikoay: *begin chuckling, before giving a gentle pat to the general on the shoulders* You Leave it to me to handle this, general. I know a funeral too, on infiltrating the enemy base without them noticing until it’s too late.

Ironwood: in that case, I'm putting all my faith in your abilities, gentlemen. *the Marshall and Commissar gave an Nod to the general* Now gentleman, Let us begin in our joint operation.

Nikoay and Commissar Arc: Yes sir *Both said in unison. before walking out of the room with the general following them behind, as the three military men Headed to the exit, to begin the joint operation*

(A/N expect part 2 to this post. please tell me your thoughts and opinions about it, Any constructive criticism is welcome.)

[howlingday]

Would the Imperium of Man execute Ironwood for trying to run from Salem?

I'm not an expert on Warhammer, so I'm not really the best person to ask on matters of the Grimdark universe. However, I will answer this to the best of my knowledge and ability.

I tried to find an answer on Google, but I couldn't find a specific answer to this question, which was "does the imperium punish cowardice?" The most obvious answer to this is "Yes" and that's usually by the blade of bullet of the Commissar, whose entire job in the Imperium is to execute cowards as a deterrent of treason and to instill good order and discipline among the guardsmen they are tasked to guide. Kinda like a drill instructor on the battlefield who will put a bullet in you if they get a whiff of anything less than proper soldier behavior.

However, this scenario is very... unique, and complex in a way that goes beyond simple cowardice. See, General James Ironwood, whatever his intentions may have been, was trying to help Atlas by keeping himself, the city, its people, AND the relic out of Salem's reach. So, yes, while he is essentially running away from the threat of the Grimm, it can also be observed as a tactical withdrawal to prevent even worse casualties, or the fall of Remnant.

Again, I'm not an expert. The better people to ask Warhammer questions would be @the-wayward-arc or @weatherman667 , though I also asked my buddies in the Discord their thoughts on the matter, and they responded with similar answers, saying either Ironwood would have been shot OR wouldn't have due to the tactical reasoning for his retreat. One response was, "If you're throwing Ironwood into the 40K universe, he would have tried to get an Exterminatus on Salem." Take that as you will.

And because I'm still trying to figure out the difference between a laspistol and a lichtor (hint: only one of them MIGHT kill ya), I also asked my buddies IRL, who have been in this nightmare of a universe since they were kids. I described to them this scenario,

"There's this general, and his kingdom is about to be destroyed AND the only thing that could stop the Big Bad from destroying everything. Would he be executed in the 40K universe for cowardice?"

The first guy's response,

"If it's a general, he's never seeing the light of day again. The Inquistors would send a guy to torture him to death, and the Imperium would send their guard to overthrow and replace him. And since he's not only acting in cowardice, but he's also sacrificing ammunition resources to the threat, he might be be turned into a servitor as punishment."

My other buddy said,

"It's hard to say in the setting of the 41st millennium. Funny enough, there's actually a similar scenario in the Siege of Terra where a Captain is ordered to move sky plates to block orbital fire, which saved a bunch of ground forces and civilians, but at the cost of their flying fortress that Dorn needed to protect Terra as a contingency plan. An atrocity of 100% casualties may be considered a success if the objective was achieved. A cleric was given a position in the Inquistors because he made the mistake of not reporting an error, then lying that the mistake was an indication of heresy, which it was. Actions as you see them now could be condemned or praised in the future, but you won't know in the now."

The second buddy then proceeded to drop the biggest lore bomb I've ever heard from the recent finale of the Siege of Terra series. But I won't spoil it here.

Was Ironwood a coward? Would he have been punished? What WH foe is equivalent to the Grimm? I have no idea, BUT what I do know is that I appreciate you coning to me with these fascinating questions.

Until next time,

KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK!

[taryn40k]

"Mornin lad, mmm... you look like its anything but good though... troubles of the personal kind or impersonal kind?"

"... I'm sorry, that came out wrong. I didn't mean for it to be threatening, it just... There's a lot happening this morning, and my nerves are a little fried right now!"

[storywonker]

Series review: Gaunt’s Ghosts

(I posted this a few days ago over at r/fantasy because I’m having a go at their 2019 book bingo; the Hero Mode for that requires you to write a review of every book you read for the bingo)

Originally, I intended to simply read The Warmaster and Anarch for the tie-in Bingo hard mode square. I’ve been a fan of Dan Abnett, and Warhammer 40k’s longest-running book series, since I was a teen, but I hadn’t really read any of the books since about 2014, and I figured: hey, it might be worth rereading the books to see if they hold up.

They do.

For those unfamiliar, Gaunt’s Ghosts is a long-running (15 novels and two short story collections, with three other novels in the same broad chunk of the 40k galaxy) military sci-fi/fantasy series set in the Warhammer 40,000 universe. The books centre around the Tanith First-and-Only, commanded by Colonel-Commissar Ibram Gaunt, a regiment of the Imperial Guard whose world has been destroyed, leaving them the last survivors of their culture. Due to this, and their reconnaissance and stealth specialisation, they’re known, both in-universe and out, as Gaunt’s Ghosts. Their battleground is the Sabbat Worlds Crusade: an Imperial effort to reconquer a sector of space overrun by the forces of Chaos.

The series is roughly divided into four ‘arcs’, although two of these were defined after their release and there are storylines that run through the entire series.

We kick off with the Founding, comprising:

First and Only

Ghostmaker

Necropolis

The Saint:

Honour Guard

The Guns of Tanith

Straight Silver

Sabbat Martyr

The Lost:

Traitor General

His Last Command

The Armour of Contempt

Only In Death

And, latest, The Victory:

Blood Pact

Salvation’s Reach

The Warmaster

Anarch

Of these, I feel the first two books are a little weaker, but from Necropolis on the series hits a consistent level of quality that it never really dips from.

So, what makes such a long series worth reading? Why am I even bothering with this?

First: Dan Abnett writes the best damn battles in fantasy or science fiction. Yes, I understand that’s a bold statement. No, I haven’t read Malazan. I’ll stand by it, though: fifteen books that mostly comprise military engagements of one kind or another, and I can’t say I was bored at any point, or tired of Abnett’s battles. There’s a mix of gritty realism (insofar as anything in 40k is realistic), clear, lucid writing, and an eye for small, vivid details that keeps the firefights both engrossing and easy to understand. I don’t think at any point in the series I was confused about where a character was, or had to reread a passage because I didn’t understand what happened. That’s an impressive piece of craft, and it’s one Abnett’s kept up and improved over the twenty years he’s been writing this series. The little details are great, too: characters noticing how mass laser discharge feels like a visceral shock on a quiet, rainy night; the persistent bruise on a sniper’s shoulder from the heavy kick of an overcharged weapon; characters shouting ‘clear’ so their eardrums survive the backblast of a rocket launcher.

Second: Abnett’s character work and long-form plotting is excellent. He’s referred to it in interviews as ‘soap opera’, and there’s elements of that, certainly. The bonds and rifts between the soldiers of the regiment are a key point of the books, and there are innumerable small moments that humanise the Ghosts in between the shooting; gambling rings, family dramas, comrades discussing the quality of the regiment’s moonshine. This is all great stuff, and, after a while, eclipses the battles as the reason to keep reading, because, at bottom, we don’t want our favourite characters to die.

Which they do. A lot.

Abnett makes expert use of the ensemble cast to both kill enough characters that no-one feels safe and to introduce enough characters that the series doesn’t begin to feel fruitless despite the death toll. Many of the major characters as of The Warmaster and Anarch weren’t even in the first six or seven books, as Abnett keeps the Tanith’s strictly limited manpower pool topped up by periodic drats of new soldiers. Characters who started as broad sketches become more and more detailed as they ping-pong off each other and the enemy; ones who remain spear-carriers (las-carriers?) begin to matter more and more as their minor appearances build up. This cast also injects a lot of variety, as the narrative shifts focus to different parts of the regiment.

Abnett also uses these reinforcements to inject a much-needed influx of female characters. Where the first two books have only two speaking female characters (they’re very much a product of late 90s Games Workshop in that respect), by Anarch female characters are a major presence at every level of the regiment, the majority well-drawn and fleshed-out characters.

Speaking of variety, Abnett also varies each book’s war by changing the kind of military story each one tells. Where Necropolis is a massive, Stalingrad-style siege, Honour Guard is a quest narrative with the Ghosts being part of an armoured column and The Guns of Tanith is an airborne assault on a mountaintop city.

Even where the setup is similar (each of the first three arcs ends in a siege), Abnett varies aspects of the plot and theme to keep things fresh: Sabbat Martyr is part siege, part assassin-hunt; Only In Death is a siege story where the fortress is haunted, alternating between blazing action, the hopelessness of a trapped unit cut off by the enemy, and some utterly chilling psychological horror (it is, in my opinion, the best book in the series). Although the Tanith are usually a small part of whatever war they’re fighting, the length of the series means that the overall course of the war for the Sabbat Worlds develops and twists over time.

All of this means that, by the time we roll around to books 14 and 15, the Sabbat Worlds Crusade feels like it has a tremendous amount of weight and history behind it. Locations that were mentioned in throwaway briefings have become real places that we’ve visited. Enemy warlords mentioned in passing have grown to be massive antagonists. And, above all, the characters at the centre of the Crusade, mentioned only as distant names directing the action from afar, become central to the narrative.

The Warmaster and Anarch are, although released as two novels, best read as one single narrative (indeed, the whole Victory arc is one single narrative, including several novellas and short stories included in the Sabbat Crusade anthology). It takes the Ghosts to the Forge-World of Urdesh, mentioned as a manufacturing centre for the forces of Chaos as far back as book four. A freak warp-accident jumps the Ghosts ten years forward in time, and the crucial nature of the cargo they recovered in Salvation’s Reach thrusts them into the heart of the Crusade. These are novels about change, as the Ghosts adjust to their new position and importance, and the new draftees from Verghast and Belladon introduced in Salvation’s Reach settle in and prove their mettle.

The Warmaster, for all it radically shifts the scope and feel of the books, feels very much like a setup book. It ends without a great climax (lack of denouement is one of my criticisms of the series; generally there’s only a few pages of falling action after the battle turns in the Ghosts’ favour), instead keeping a cliffhanger ready for Anarch. It’s a character-focussed book, mostly setting up things to pay off in Anarch.

And pay off they do. Anarch is one of Abnett’s barnstorming arc-end books, and joins its three predecessors as some of the best in the series. Switching seamlessly between some of Abnett’s best horror-writing (which neatly combines with one of his most impactful character punches), the normal (but still very good) blaze of battlefield action, and tense infiltration, Anarch contains a cool or noteworthy moment for just about every member of the ensemble. It also includes a lot of deaths; I think probably the most of any book so far, and of several major characters. Abnett is ruthless in pruning his cast, but each one feels impactful.

What Anarch does that the other arc-end books don’t is set up more storylines for the future. This may be the consequence of The Victory being the most serialised arc yet, but by the end, not only has the war for the Sabbat Worlds changed for ever, but the Ghosts are set on a trajectory that promises to take them to even deadlier battlefields. Payoff for the plots set up in The Warmaster comes thick and fast, as does the resolution of other, longer-term plots. One in particular seems to have been started all the way back in book 3, a 19-year real-time gap. The regiment that emerges from these two books feels very different from the one that entered them, but no less interesting and engaging for that.

So, in sum: if you like military SFF with strong character-work, want to read some of the best battles in the genre, and want a long-running, interconnected series, check out Gaunt’s Ghosts.

Bingo Square: Tie-In Novel (Hard Mode)

Recommended for fans of: The Black Company, The Heroes, Grimdark, military fantasy.

[warhammer40cake-blog]

Chapter 1: Three Guns too Few, Three Guns too Many

The supply convoy was gathering its things for extraction. Columns of flatbeds and armored transport were doing their best to form orderly lines, moving along well-worn paths that hadn’t existed eight months ago. As a token of gratitude, the planet’s locals were building pallets and separating salvage from trash. Children held las cells up to their noses to see if they had been discharged or not while the adults stacked things far too heavy for the young ones to handle. The “discharge” pile was significantly larger than the salvage pile, but even the children felt compelled to help the Imperial forces that had made their way to pry Garthin from the grips of a chaos incursion. Maybe “incursion” was too strong a word to use. It was more like a rebellion, but chaos was not a matter to be taken lightly. A single continent, two regional manufactorum districts, and the inquisition had sent in its people yesterday. To be fair, they were the ones calling it an incursion, not the locals.

Major Vord Rankin sipped cold recaff from a hip flask and watched a pair of young girls sorting through trash. The older, maybe seven or eight, gently took a las cell from her little sister and showed her how to administer the sniff test. The toddler had been holding them up to her ear and shaking them, and her sister patiently explained that you couldn’t tell that way. They had to have that ozone smell to them. That’s how you could tell if they had been fired or not.

Of course, they had all been fired, but the major wasn’t about to tell them that.

“Move it,” a voice said from behind, prompting Rankin to sidestep as a small lift rattled by with crates stacked nearly above the driver’s eye line.

Gratitude, Rankin thought, glancing back at the girls. A virtue. No, more than a virtue, it was a blessing from the Emperor himself. Not every child in their situation survived to feel gratitude, and the fact that they were already wise enough to express it filled him with pride.

Garthin was an interesting node in the Imperial supply chain, its manufactorum blocs producing the bulk of all nonessential mechanisms needed to fuel the war efforts in the system. There were entire worlds dedicated to pushing out armor and guns, thousands of square miles of nothing but chassis, treads, and engines. There were factories stamping out so many lasgun frames per minute that the machine song could be heard behind closed doors inside the Mechanicum’s temple walls. But the best place to machine gun barrels might not necessarily be the best place to cut focus crystals. When you need every square foot available to you for steel works, it is sometimes better to have several million polymer trigger assemblies delivered on a single landing pad. Not to mention the fact that Garthin was one of the largest grain suppliers within easy traveling distance. There were so many small pieces moving through Garthin that its troubles had not been noticed immediately, but when shipments started arriving later and later the Mechanicum had taken interest. And when the Mechanicum cried, the munitorum did too. From there it hadn’t been long until there were boots on the ground.

The sound of shouting drew Rankin’s attention away from the girls. He looked across the muddy, torn up field, standing on his toes to see over the milling crowd. He couldn’t see who was shouting, but the voice was all too familiar. He started cutting his way across the slow moving convoy.

The chaos rebellion, as many like it did, had started in secret. Worshippers of the ruinous powers were never bold enough to do so under the sterilizing light of day until their numbers were enough to bolster confidence. Rankin tried to recall the title the chaos scum had given themselves, failed, and realized it was a good thing that he had forgotten. He didn’t need to know who they were, just that they were all dead. Rumors were that the entire thing had started with a single man who had been brutalized one night after his shift had ended. The attackers, they said, had taken everything he had on his person regardless of value. Most of it had been found less than a mile away in a trash can. He had needed extensive surgery that neither he nor his family had been in a position to afford, and it looked like his life had gone from decades of quiet service to the Imperium to destitution in the span of a few agonizing minutes.

There were things in the galaxy who’s mouths were always open and questing for that flavor of frustration.

“There’s sixteen of us!” the voice shouted. There was a pause. “Fifteen, whatever! There’s fifteen of us and you’re going to give me these lasguns or I swear on the Golden Throne I’ll-”

“You’ll what, trooper Slatnik?” Rankin asked calmly.

Slatnik turned, her face red as a brick and twice as hard, and threw a quick salute. Tall for a woman, she had the demeanor of a feral cat, scarred and rough around every available edge. Her face was lined beyond her years from an early career of hard living, and her hair was a short cut nest of oily black feathers.

“Major, sir, these men refuse to help with our resupply,” she said through barred teeth. “We’re shy three lasguns and they won’t budge.”

The men standing behind Slatnik were dressed in officer’s garb, clean and more plump than a soldier should have been. Rankin knew one was a colonel from the pins on his greatcoat, and the other appeared to be an adjutant.

“Is that right, colonel?” Rankin asked, looking over Slatnik shoulder. “You’re here arguing with my guardsman over three lasguns?”

“The lasguns belong to the Feronian Firestags,” the adjutant answered, a smug expression creasing his chubby face. “And the Feronian Firestags need them. We can’t be bothered to give charity out to every poor soul that comes along with open hands.”

The colonel chuckled, clearly taking delight in not having to answer Rankin’s question himself. The major watched him with mild interest. Rankin’s team had been on Garthin for the duration of the conflict. First in and, by the looks of things, last out. These pompous Feronians had been here somewhere, but he couldn’t remember having seen hide nor hair of them. A bloated regiment with a bloated colonel, too afraid to stain their clothes with front line combat. Here was a man who could learn a thing or two from those girls sorting power cells in the dirt.

Rankin looked back at Slatnik.

“I asked you a question, tooper.”

Slatnik squinted at him. “Sir?”

“I asked you what you would do to the colonel here if he didn’t comply. So, what will you do if we don’t get those lasguns, trooper Slatnik?”

Back still to the two men, her grimace curled into a nasty smile. “I’d rather not say, major, sir.”

Rankin sniffed and took a long, careful drink from his flask, making heavy eye contact with the silent colonel. He screwed the lid back on slowly, as if preparing to make love to the vessel, and tucked it carefully back into his hip pocket.

“Show me.”

Like magic, Slatnik’s booted foot was flying in an arc above her head as the last syllable from Rankin’s mouth still hung in the air. It crashed into the colonel’s temple, spinning him sideways into the mud. The adjutant balked, unable to process what had just happened, and fumbled with the leather catch of his holstered laspistol.

Rankin whistled, and the pudgy man looked up in time to see the barrel of a bolt pistol leveled at his chest. Rankin smiled and shook his head.

Gloved hands grabbed the adjutant by his collar. Slatnik screamed away months of pain and frustration before slamming her forehead into his nose. The cartilage shattered, sending a starburst of blood across his cheeks and knocking him out cold. He fell where he stood, crumbling like an old cement wall, and face planted into the wet ground. The colonel had his hand pressed to the rapidly swelling side of his face that had taken the boot and shouted for help. The elegant ceremonial blade he had belted to his side was caked with mud and too slick to pull from its scabbard, and Rankin had not seen any sort of firearm on the man.

The arrogance.

Slatnik straddled the Feronian. “Hey, groxshit,” she said, leaning down. “Was it worth the three lasguns?”

Before he could answer, she stomped the heel of her boot down on his groin and ground it against the road. He screamed, legs reflexively closing down around her ankle. She planted her foot against his stomach, pressing mud into the one part of his uniform that had been spared in the fall, and pulled the boot free with a wet sucking sound.

“That’s enough, trooper,” Rankin said, trying not to show his amusement. Five guardsmen in the Feronian livery were running towards them, lasguns at the ready, and he couldn’t have her actively humiliating their colonel when they arrived. He put away his bolt pistol and ran a gloved hand over his face. Why did it always have to be like this? Why couldn’t they see that they were all fighting for the same Emperor, the same Terra, the same Imperium? It was always a struggle, but it never had to be.

“Back up!” shouted the first guardsman on the scene. He was staring down the sight of his lasgun, his freshly shaved cheek pressed tight to the stock. “Hands where we can see them!”

Slatnik licked the blood off her lips and spat into the dirt at the colonel’s feet. She turned her back to the soldiers and walked to stand next to Rankin.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Likewise.”

The colonel pushed himself up, covered in equal parts mud and shame, and tried in vain to straighten his hat. Two of the Feronian guardsmen tried to help him, but he pushed them away. Blood was flowing from a cut above his right eye, that temple now a rosy goose egg.

“Shoot them,” he demanded, pointing a shaking hand in their direction. “Shoot them right now.”

“Are you a commissar?” Rankin asked. He saw the men hesitate, unsure of whether or not they should execute an officer that clearly outranked them, even if it was one in such a disheveled looking uniform. “Do you have the authority to dole out summary executions?”

“You’re traitors!” the colonel screamed, flinging mud from the tassels on his shoulders as he swung an accusing finger from Rankin to Slatnik.

Rankin nodded to the prone adjutant. “Someone should help him up before he suffocates.”

The guardsmen who had tried to help the colonel looked sheepishly at the adjutant, shouldered their rifles, and got him to his feet.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Rankin said, ignoring the colonel’s outburst. “You’ve got five decent guardsmen here. Good men. I can tell by looking at them. Instead of shooting us here, you can escort us to the command tent and tell top brass what happened. I’ll personally accept any punishment they see fit to bestow on behalf of my subordinate’s actions.”

The colonel breathed heavily, his rage barely contained. “Nothing’s stopping me from taking a rifle and shooting you myself.”

Rankin shrugged. “I guess not, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“No one’s going to fault me for putting down a traitorous major,” he said, spittle on his lips. “Especially not someone like you. The Feronian Firestags wouldn’t soil their boots stepping on a unit only fifteen men strong.”

“Good,” Rankin said cheerfully. “Then take us to the tent. The general can shoot us so you don’t have to waste the effort.”

The Feronians escorted Rankin and Slatnik the short walk to the command tent in tense silence, their backs straight and eyes forward. The adjutant was awake and plodding along in front of them, his gait unsteady and crooked. Their colonel set the pace. He was moving faster than he had likely moved the entire campaign. There was blood in the water, his blood, and he wasn’t going to let it dissipate before taking satisfaction.

Their prisoners made small talk about whether or not it would rain.

Just a week prior, the command tent had been a much larger structure, housing the bulk of tac logis machinery and those who were authorized to use them. These days it was little more than a single tent surrounded by sealed plastic crates waiting their turn to be shipped off world with the next truckload of equipment. They pushed through the tent flaps, the Feronians taking care not to disturb the officers from their discussion therein.

“I’ve seen my breath a couple of times today,” Slatnik insisted, shouldering past the guardsmen escorting them. “Temperature’s dropping. It’s going to rain before day’s end.”

“Hard to tell,” Rankin countered, waving his hands around. “Atmospherics from all these shuttles.... Who can say?”

The inside of the tent was lined with lumen globes hanging from hooks in the poles, tables and dataslates stacked against the perimeter. A long table still stood in the center of the room, surrounded by the eight remaining members in command of the operations on Garthin. They turned to regard the newcomers with mild annoyance, some scowling from underneath peaked caps while others only glanced and shook their heads before going back to the matters at hand.

One man, however, stood very much apart from the rest, for he was no mere man at all.

“Sir,” Rankin said, he and Slatnik throwing a smart salute before approaching the table.

“Major,” the man rumbled, his voice deep and immovably hard. “Trooper Slatnik. How has the resupply gone?”

Rankin cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, sir, that’s why we’re here.” He held out his hand and turned towards the Feronian colonel. “This is colonel....”

“Mastalig,” he said quickly, swallowing hard. “Colonel Thame Mastalig of the Feronian first, the Firestags.”

The man looked to the rest of the commanders at the table. “General Vesbule, the Feronian regiments are here under your deployment, are they not?”

“Indeed,” Vesbule said stiffly, eyeing the colonel in his disheveled state.

“You’re injured,” he rumbled with that penetrating voice, tapping at the side of his head with a massive finger. “Are you alright?”

Mastalig looked at the ground, uncomfortable with making eye contact with the giant. “Fine, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Yeah,” Rankin said, staring at the sweating colonel. “He’s a real trooper, that one. About that resupply, though.”

“Whatever you need, I’m sure general Vesbule will be more than accommodating to our needs,” he boomed. “That will be fine, will it not?”

“Of course,” Vesbule said, waving the statement away before going back to his dataslate. “Take whatever you need. Mastalig, make sure our friends here are well equipped and looked after. Their service has been invaluable, and I want them given only the best treatment. Do you understand?”

Under the layer of mud, the colonel went puce.

“What’s happening?” the woozy adjutant said, shuffling into the tent. Too covered in blood to want to show his face, he had been left outside on a crate with a bottle of water and a towel. He was clean now, but his nose was a crooked lump of purple that would need time with a medicae if it was going to heal any kind of straight. “What did they say?”

“Out!” the colonel hissed, his jaw shaking with embarrassment. He shoved his aide through the tent flap roughly and grabbed the nearest guardsman by the shoulder. “Get him back to camp and set him straight. I don’t want to see him here again.”

The guardsman nodded curtly and hurried away.

“Don’t worry,” Slatnik said, sauntering over to the Feronians. She threw her arms over their shoulders and planted a kiss on the cheek of the guardsman next to her. “I’ll come with you. Make sure everything goes smoothly. We sure do appreciate all your help.”

“Emperor,” the trooper on her arm said, looking away, “your breath is vile.”

“Yeah!” Slatnik nearly double over with laughter as they walked out of the tent. “Don’t I know it.”

The giant nodded as they left. “Happy, major?”

“Yes, sir,” Rankin replied. “Thank you.”

The space marine went back to discussing extraction with the rest of command. Rankin sighed heavily, taking the flask off his hip as he went quietly from their company. Gratitude, he thought, nodding as he swallowed the bitter sludge. A true blessing from the Emperor himself.