"Could be far worse," she told them as she looked at the two with a smile.
Verity Carlo wrote:
"Yeah. I'm Verity. I hang out with the Wreckers. Mostly because they're the only ones who care about me."
"Mikazuki Augus. Unit Leader of Commando Unit of Tekkadan."
"Cool."
" Hrn... the hour grows late Arpatia, prior to deployment you will undergo the necessary combatives and training for your first mission, I've requisitioned specialists from the Catachan and Tanith regiments to ensure you will excel at the task. Some clandestine assets have also been recovered from our armory vaults that should enhance operational efficacy. As with everything it is necessary to exercise a strategic discretion in matters, your state now is a raw ore, heated by the forge of combat, you are malleable but also vulnerable... it is the precise casting, the skill with which you hone your talent that will determine whether you succeed or fail in battle. The matter of subterfuge is no simple task, were it not your inherent capacities, what you have inherited from your planet, it would take years to achieve a mastery of stealth... the right of judgement is afforded to very few amongst the Emperor's own... you have been afforded the laxity of thought for this purpose and this purpose alone... to exercise deliverance upon the foe.
" A mark of honor a scar may be, but ours is the Mordian doctrine, we do not go headlong into battle expecting victory, we march into the field to assure it, a soldier that comes back from the field with scars is heroic... but one that comes back from a war unscathed, effective, nigh indispensable... that is the pedestal you should hope to achieve, rigorous drilling, predicting the enemy, enthralling yourself with the appropriate maneuvers... you should greet battlefields with leisure, the Empire has several monastic reactionaries and bodies to throw away... do not be one of them... you... do understand what i'm trying to tell you, aren't you ?
Aleksandr paused, if only to exhale a slow languid wisp from the smoking pipe.
" You are marked for a greater purpose by the Emperor, why do you think he brought you here, why do you think it was all orchestrated as such ? reckon that there is a destiny to one's sacrifice, aspire to be the blade, the hammer. It is time you start thinking of being more than just a guardswoman... you passed my first trial, you exceeded it... but more await... I will not lie to you, this time, I am throwing you to the wolves... if I had not faith in your strength, I wouldn't have bothered. This will be a critical strategic win for our gains in Arpat, I could keep on throwing guards at their defense, or... I could introduce a single agent of destruction from within. I have taken the gamble on the latter, which is you... remember that when you report for training in the morrow... dismissed. "
Aleksandr waited as the guardswomans bootfalls carried her out of the hall, one final sermon resounded in that chamber, Aleksandr reciting an axiom of the Imperial Guard, referring perhaps to her earlier quandary regarding the tyranids and other foes
The meaning of victory is not to merely defeat your enemy but to destroy him, to completely eradicate him from living memory, to leave no remnant of his endeavours, to crush utterly his achievement and remove from all record his every trace of existence. From that defeat no enemy can ever recover. That is the meaning of victory.
" A mark of honor a scar may be, but ours is the Mordian doctrine, we do not go headlong into battle expecting victory, we march into the field to assure it, a soldier that comes back from the field with scars is heroic... but one that comes back from a war unscathed, effective, nigh indispensable... that is the pedestal you should hope to achieve, rigorous drilling, predicting the enemy, enthralling yourself with the appropriate maneuvers... you should greet battlefields with leisure, the Empire has several monastic reactionaries and bodies to throw away... do not be one of them... you... do understand what i'm trying to tell you, aren't you ?
Aleksandr paused, if only to exhale a slow languid wisp from the smoking pipe.
" You are marked for a greater purpose by the Emperor, why do you think he brought you here, why do you think it was all orchestrated as such ? reckon that there is a destiny to one's sacrifice, aspire to be the blade, the hammer. It is time you start thinking of being more than just a guardswoman... you passed my first trial, you exceeded it... but more await... I will not lie to you, this time, I am throwing you to the wolves... if I had not faith in your strength, I wouldn't have bothered. This will be a critical strategic win for our gains in Arpat, I could keep on throwing guards at their defense, or... I could introduce a single agent of destruction from within. I have taken the gamble on the latter, which is you... remember that when you report for training in the morrow... dismissed. "
Aleksandr waited as the guardswomans bootfalls carried her out of the hall, one final sermon resounded in that chamber, Aleksandr reciting an axiom of the Imperial Guard, referring perhaps to her earlier quandary regarding the tyranids and other foes
The meaning of victory is not to merely defeat your enemy but to destroy him, to completely eradicate him from living memory, to leave no remnant of his endeavours, to crush utterly his achievement and remove from all record his every trace of existence. From that defeat no enemy can ever recover. That is the meaning of victory.
Aleksandr Von Drakenfell wrote:
" Hrn... the hour grows late Arpatia, prior to deployment you will undergo the necessary combatives and training for your first mission, I've requisitioned specialists from the Catachan and Tanith regiments to ensure you will excel at the task. Some clandestine assets have also been recovered from our armory vaults that should enhance operational efficacy. As with everything it is necessary to exercise a strategic discretion in matters, your state now is a raw ore, heated by the forge of combat, you are malleable but also vulnerable... it is the precise casting, the skill with which you hone your talent that will determine whether you succeed or fail in battle. The matter of subterfuge is no simple task, were it not your inherent capacities, what you have inherited from your planet, it would take years to achieve a mastery of stealth... the right of judgement is afforded to very few amongst the Emperor's own... you have been afforded the laxity of thought for this purpose and this purpose alone... to exercise deliverance upon the foe.
" A mark of honor a scar may be, but ours is the Mordian doctrine, we do not go headlong into battle expecting victory, we march into the field to assure it, a soldier that comes back from the field with scars is heroic... but one that comes back from a war unscathed, effective, nigh indispensable... that is the pedestal you should hope to achieve, rigorous drilling, predicting the enemy, enthralling yourself with the appropriate maneuvers... you should greet battlefields with leisure, the Empire has several monastic reactionaries and bodies to throw away... do not be one of them... you... do understand what i'm trying to tell you, aren't you ?
Aleksandr paused, if only to exhale a slow languid wisp from the smoking pipe.
" You are marked for a greater purpose by the Emperor, why do you think he brought you here, why do you think it was all orchestrated as such ? reckon that there is a destiny to one's sacrifice, aspire to be the blade, the hammer. It is time you start thinking of being more than just a guardswoman... you passed my first trial, you exceeded it... but more await... I will not lie to you, this time, I am throwing you to the wolves... if I had not faith in your strength, I wouldn't have bothered. This will be a critical strategic win for our gains in Arpat, I could keep on throwing guards at their defense, or... I could introduce a single agent of destruction from within. I have taken the gamble on the latter, which is you... remember that when you report for training in the morrow... dismissed. "
Aleksandr waited as the guardswomans bootfalls carried her out of the hall, one final sermon resounded in that chamber, Aleksandr reciting an axiom of the Imperial Guard, referring perhaps to her earlier quandary regarding the tyranids and other foes
The meaning of victory is not to merely defeat your enemy but to destroy him, to completely eradicate him from living memory, to leave no remnant of his endeavours, to crush utterly his achievement and remove from all record his every trace of existence. From that defeat no enemy can ever recover. That is the meaning of victory.
" A mark of honor a scar may be, but ours is the Mordian doctrine, we do not go headlong into battle expecting victory, we march into the field to assure it, a soldier that comes back from the field with scars is heroic... but one that comes back from a war unscathed, effective, nigh indispensable... that is the pedestal you should hope to achieve, rigorous drilling, predicting the enemy, enthralling yourself with the appropriate maneuvers... you should greet battlefields with leisure, the Empire has several monastic reactionaries and bodies to throw away... do not be one of them... you... do understand what i'm trying to tell you, aren't you ?
Aleksandr paused, if only to exhale a slow languid wisp from the smoking pipe.
" You are marked for a greater purpose by the Emperor, why do you think he brought you here, why do you think it was all orchestrated as such ? reckon that there is a destiny to one's sacrifice, aspire to be the blade, the hammer. It is time you start thinking of being more than just a guardswoman... you passed my first trial, you exceeded it... but more await... I will not lie to you, this time, I am throwing you to the wolves... if I had not faith in your strength, I wouldn't have bothered. This will be a critical strategic win for our gains in Arpat, I could keep on throwing guards at their defense, or... I could introduce a single agent of destruction from within. I have taken the gamble on the latter, which is you... remember that when you report for training in the morrow... dismissed. "
Aleksandr waited as the guardswomans bootfalls carried her out of the hall, one final sermon resounded in that chamber, Aleksandr reciting an axiom of the Imperial Guard, referring perhaps to her earlier quandary regarding the tyranids and other foes
The meaning of victory is not to merely defeat your enemy but to destroy him, to completely eradicate him from living memory, to leave no remnant of his endeavours, to crush utterly his achievement and remove from all record his every trace of existence. From that defeat no enemy can ever recover. That is the meaning of victory.
She looked at him and with a nod, she listened again to what he had to say.
"And to come back with scars is like a badge of honor. It shows that I not only did my share of killing, but I also fought valiantly. It is the way of the Imperium, my Lord General. And I fully understand," she said as she paused a few seconds to resume speaking. "And to not come back is a fools goal. I will always make you proud of me, Aleksandr, my Lord. The enemy will not see it coming. Even if I blast the hole successfully, I will give you extra. I will also blow holes in our enemy. None will be left alive. We are not taking prisoners of war. They die where they stand," she said with a grin on her face as she was showing him her brutal side.
She took a drag of a cigarette, the scar on her right cheek most evident from the last battle she was just in.
She stood up from the chair and saluted to him. "Yes, Sir. The Emperor had a reason to bring me here from my reality. He knew I was a lost soul that needed to be cared for by you and the rest. I am here at your disposal. I will not exactly be that. I will the instrument of you weapon for war. I will create chaos and mayhem in my wake. And yes, Sir. I will make sure to report for training exercise for tomorrow.
She got up from her seat and left the chamber, her boots echoing through the halls as she chanted the Emperor's name as well. She needed much sleep for what was to come. And it was going to be like a cake walk for her.
"Emperor of Mankind, please keep me safe. Emperor of Mankind give me the courage to destroy my enemies. Emperor of Mankind, give me strength to overpower them without fear. Ad Victoriam," she chanted under her breath as she went to her barracks to go to sleep.
Verity Carlo wrote:
"Cool."
"Verily, tis Verity!" He laughed
In appreciation, he brought both Ami and Aleksandr both a plate of his red wine potroast and each a mug of ale.
"I thank you both. Drael goes on vacation with his wife and daughter and suddenly everyone forgets how to comport themselves in my bar. LieutenantGreystorm, no fighting in my bar please"
"I thank you both. Drael goes on vacation with his wife and daughter and suddenly everyone forgets how to comport themselves in my bar. LieutenantGreystorm, no fighting in my bar please"
Wheeljack wrote:
"Verily, tis Verity!" He laughed
"Nice one, Wheeljack." Verity cracks a slight smile, the most she can manage at the moment.
By the foot of the fireplace, a house cat with charcoal gray fur slept happily. It was one of the many simple joys Casimir had in life. He had formed this habit in his younger years when he was a familiar. The heat kept the winter away. The scent of smoke tickled the feline’s pink nose and occasionally his ears would twitch from the rowdy commotion.
If there was anything the feline learnt in his life, people looked upon cats favourably. Often with undeserved kindness, or adoration because his paw pads were pink. He could assume this form and nap anywhere. At worst a random passerby would stroke his fur and be done with their day. All that was needed to warm a heart was a sweet meow.
If there was anything the feline learnt in his life, people looked upon cats favourably. Often with undeserved kindness, or adoration because his paw pads were pink. He could assume this form and nap anywhere. At worst a random passerby would stroke his fur and be done with their day. All that was needed to warm a heart was a sweet meow.
He wiped his hands off and sat in the bar letting out a sigh.
Mathius Kothinto wrote:
In appreciation, he brought both Ami and Aleksandr both a plate of his red wine potroast and each a mug of ale.
"I thank you both. Drael goes on vacation with his wife and daughter and suddenly everyone forgets how to comport themselves in my bar. LieutenantGreystorm, no fighting in my bar please"
"I thank you both. Drael goes on vacation with his wife and daughter and suddenly everyone forgets how to comport themselves in my bar. LieutenantGreystorm, no fighting in my bar please"
Thank you for the excellent meal Mathius, this is a true feast, if this is how Aeldari eat every day dare I say, point me to the craftworld.
We only did our duty unto you as you would do for us.
We saw to it that you and this establishment were not mocked.
"Thank you, Mathius," she said as she had some of the best pot roast and drank delicious red wine. She was appreciative of his hospitality.
Verity is slouched over in a booth, just kinda trying to stay unnoticed.
He was sitting next to Verity working on something.
Exits the rp
Hubris is the Weapon The Fool Uses, To Cut his Own Throat.
Imperial Proverb
Presiding over a large auspex display, the Lord General received on going SITREP and battlefield reports, holographic ensigns representing units and their movements across the world of Arpat, the slow grinding advance of battlelines and the development of fortifications. Tech-priests chattered amongst themselves in binharic tending to machine spirits vested within the immense augur array that powered communications technology registering vox and signal from countless souls, data being divined through cogitators before being fed in to advise further strategy and action, it was precise and effective, every last shell was accounted for, every ration and every engagement, munitions and fuel usage, manpower and potential threats being registered, monitored and then transferred all whilst Astra Militarum officers read off summary reports upon data slates.
" Intel relayed to us by forward tactical elements has informed us that elements of the local civilian populace has taken to guerilla warfare and acts of terrorism, we believe this is a clandestine effort being strategically supported by the Xenos, in light of elements of a Tau cadre as per preliminary report, auspex feeds did pick up some plausible activity on the eastern front which was later confirmed as we took the settlement of Berlag-Kitt, while the settlement is now under Astra Militarum control, ongoing pacification efforts are under way to restore the local livelihoods and return the populace to productivity. Imperial presence has not been well received and we are brokering negotiations that our diplomatic wing and the local rogue trader and manufactorum unions to see if we can achieve our goals without turning the lasguns on them. "
The General paused, taking consideration of the report, unflinching and unshifting, daunting visage peering over hologram of impossible technological sophistication, yet somehow eerily reminiscent of a warfare pedigree well known to humanity for aeons.
" And what of that man... Regas?... and my factor... Kilnar... whom was sent to make accords with the debt Regas owed to me and lay claim to those acres in Lomonsyde ? "
" A bitter disappointment your Lordship... and Kilnar... did not return, the last transmission suggests he was taken... hostage. "
The general's expression turned dour as he turned from the war table and walked towards a window hands crossed behind his back.
" And now my factor is abducted in plain view... am I gone mad ? "
The junior officer swallowed nervously before finding the words
" Your lord- "
" DO NOT !... I say, do not speak in my stead man !.. that makes sense as to why we were able to pick up faint signatures in Berlag-Kitt's subterranean mine shafts... the tactical prerogative has changed... Regas's pride has gotten in the way of his reason, the Imperium's mercy only extends so far... extend a warrant amongst the populace and our troops, 20,000 thrones to whoever brings me his head, double if he's alive... we shall see how this collusion between xeno and traitor stands up against a good old fashioned Imperial Interrogation. "
I am Lord General Aleksandr Von Drakenfell, and I Will Not Be Mocked
Roadbuster wrote:
He was sitting next to Verity working on something.
"Whatcha working on, Roadie?"
Verity Carlo wrote:
Roadbuster wrote:
He was sitting next to Verity working on something.
"Whatcha working on, Roadie?"
"I'm tryin' tae increase the firin' rate o' this pulse cannon"
"If it were an actual physical weapon, I'd just tell you go make the bolt lighter or something..."
"It'll fire superheated plasma bolts at 1,000 rounds per second"
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