In the Emperor's service [Ghostwolf and Dionysius]

[Ghostwolf]

A minuscule light blinked in the side of The Paragon, the Endeavour-class capital ship resting at high anchor, standing watch. That light signified a shuttle leaving one of the Light Cruiser flight decks, the small squat form of an Arvus Lighter making good time as it sped towards the planet below. It carried a light cargo. A few crates of supplies, a single passenger and their kit.

A sigh escaped the sole passenger’s lips as they sat within the cramped cargo bay, pushed back into the seat by the dull yellow frame of the acceleration cradle. A thin finger flicked the screen of the dataslate again, scrolling the information, what little there was. With a small growl of annoyance, they pushed forwards with their shoulders at the cradle, trying to get comfortable on the hard seat.

“Is everything alright, Commissar?” the pilot questioned over the crackling intercom, hearing the rattling of the restraint.

“Yes, everything’s fine, thank you.” The Commissar replied, raising her voice so the pilot could hear her in his compartment, trying to avoid a sarcastic tone. Everything was not fine, it was far from fine. Verena Tyber sighed once more, rubbing her forehead with frustration. Recently graduated from the Schola Progenium, the Commissariat had assigned her to her first posting, the first regiment she would be attached to. She was relatively young for a Commissar, she had not served as part of a Cadet Commissar training squad and neither had she been seconded as a Junior under a more senior Commissar. She had graduated on merit alone, deemed competent enough by her instructors and assessors due to her strong academic record, weapons proficiency, and high scores in various aspects of combat training. However classroom scenarios were not the same as dealing with a real flesh and blood regiment, training exercises very different from the harsh bloody realities of a battlefield. She was young and inexperienced, and she had been provided with very little information about the regiment she was to join. You could always count on the Departmento Munitorum to be vague.

The Commissar could feel herself beginning to get wound up, starting to anger. She was young, she even looked young, and she was fresh from the Schola, but she was determined to do her duty well, to serve the Emperor in the way only a Commissar could. She would oversee the morale of her regiment, enforce discipline among the ranks, and inspire the men and instil in them the glory to be found in fighting in His Imperial Guard. But how was she able to do this when she lacked even the most basic information! It didn’t help that she stuck in this frakking cradle! She hated space flight, her petite form trapped by the uncomfortable restraint, while outside there was nothingness.

Taking a deep breath, Verena closed her eyes, reciting to herself words of the Imperial Creed and various litanies. The last stanza of the Libation to the Emperor, and in the dark when the shadows threaten, The Emperor is with us, in spirit and in fact. The Litany to Duty, give me the strengh to carry my duty through, and smite those who seek to thwart me. She felt herself beginning to calm, her body starting to relax. Exhaling slowly she opened her eyes, once again returning to the dataslate. The name of the Regiment was even missing, it was simply detailed as Light Infantry, which should prove interesting for her first posting.

While it lacked information about the regiment, it contained more about the situation on the planet slowly coming into Verena’s view from the port opposite her. Cassell was the small capital planet of a border system within the Ultima Segmentum. Passing through, a Rogue Trader vessel had spotted a small Tau fleet stationed their. Upon investigation he had found the Tau Empire had begun annexation of the system as it rested on the edge of their rapidly growing sphere of expansion. The Rogue Trader using his astropaths had sent word of these happenings, and a small fleet detachment had been dispatched to the system in response. There had been very little conflict so far, only a few firefights and nothing on a large scale, the tension was high between both sides as they found themselves at a standpoint as the Tau attempted diplomacy with the Imperium’s representatives.

Verena watched Cassell approaching through the reinforced viewport, getting bigger and bigger until it filled the entirity of the small hole. The Arvus began to shake, the viewport glowing bright orange, as the pilot announced they were entering the atmosphere. The Commissar squeezed her eyes shut, her knuckles white as she held the acceleration cradle tight, its solid frame stopping her from being thrown about. Frak, frak, frak, frak, she cursed again and again to herself. In the back of the mind, she knew that she was going to have to get used to this, get over this fear if she was to be respected, if she was to be remembered as doing great things.

“We are making our descent Commissar” the pilot informed, with Verena breathing a sigh of relief as she opened her eyes. They were going down on the dark side of the planet, the night sky turning to soft grey as they passed through the cloud cover and then dark again as they broke from it. She could make out the bright lights of the capital city below her which held her destination, the huge space port the Guard had overtaken as their headquarters, housing several regiments in the prefab buildings that had been erected.

The Arvus began to bank slightly, lining up for its landing as Verena watched the ground begin to get closer, seeming to rise up too quickly to meet her, eyes focused on a landing pad marked with flourescent lights. Then, they touched down gently with only the slightest shake, and the Commissar let out a breath she didn’t realise she had been holding. She quickly pushed against the cradle, raising it to free herself from her constraints, standing from the hard seat which snapped back up to folded.

“There you are Commissar, I hope you enjoyed the flight”. Was there a tone of amusement to his voice? She wasn’t sure. “Yes, thank you” she replied tersely, her heeled boots which added a few needed inches to her height ringing on the metal deck as she moved to retrieve her kit from a storage crate.

“I think you’ll your guys to the two o’clock of the ramp.” Verena didn’t bother to reply, did the damn Navy even know more than her? A scowl on her face she made her way past the stored supplied crates just as the lower ramp descended, a blast of cold air filling the cargo hold as the world gently swirled white outside. It was the beginning of the Cassellian winter, but Verena was prepared. Alongside the customary Commissar’s garb, she had slipped on a pair of fine black fur glvoes, pulling a scarf up over the lower half of her face, and stepped out into the snow as it fell in the night.

It was cold, but not exceptionally so for the Commissar. Verena had memories of a much colder, much harsher, much whiter land before she was sent to one of the many worlds of the Schola Progenium. Her greatcoat drawn tight around her with its collar up, her hat angled down low over her face, she set off to find her regiment in the direction the pilot had said.

It didn’t take her long, after making a few inquiries with men on guard duty who were all too happy to help the Commissar, she stood outside the Officer’s billet of the regiment she was to be attached to, whoever they were. Pushing her way inside, she was greeted with warmth, shutting the door and the cold out behind her as she lightly kicked the snow from her boots, her cap and shoulders holding a light dusting.

The room was sparse, a few chairs and a desk. Clearly a waiting room. A guardsman sat at the desk, his feet upon the wooden surface idly flicking through a holo slate. Verena approached him, waiting to look up. She set her kitbag on the floor. He still didn’t look up from the slate.

Clearing her throat softly, she waited, and after a moment the guardsman finally dragged his eyes away from whatever was so important. She had to resist from smiling as a look of shocked surprise began to spread across his features as he took in the sight of her, the greatcoat, the cap. She reached up to pull the scarfe from over her mouth and nose as the guardsman scrambled to his feet, snapping of a sharp salute. Verena simply replied with a slight inclination of her head.

“Tell whoever is in command here that Commissar Tyber has arrived. I do not want to be kept waiting.”

Before he could make to leave, she reached across the desk, taking up the forgotten holoslate. She was greeted with an image of a large breasted woman wearing nothing but combat boots. “This is contraband.” The Commissar said plainly, looking up at the man who held an uncertain expression. “Do not let me catch you with this again.” She held the slate out to him, but withdrew her harm at the last moment just as he went to reach for it. “Especially when you are on duty, understood?” she added sternly before letting him take it from her gloved hand. “Be on your way.”

The guardsman snapped another salute, muttered a yes Commissar, thank you Commissar, before he scurried off about his task. Verena turned from the desk, clasping her hands behind her back, allowing herself to smile only when she was certain he was out of sight. Well done Rena, she congratulated herself, straightening her cap, very well handled. Her thoughts sounded almost exactly like the her Schola instructors.​

 

[Dionysius]

A minuscule light blinked in the side of The Paragon, the Endeavour-class capital ship resting at high anchor, standing watch. That light signified a shuttle leaving one of the Light Cruiser flight decks, the small squat form of an Arvus Lighter making good time as it sped towards the planet below. It carried a light cargo. A few crates of supplies, a single passenger and their kit.

A sigh escaped the sole passenger’s lips as they sat within the cramped cargo bay, pushed back into the seat by the dull yellow frame of the acceleration cradle. A thin finger flicked the screen of the dataslate again, scrolling the information, what little there was. With a small growl of annoyance, they pushed forwards with their shoulders at the cradle, trying to get comfortable on the hard seat.

“Is everything alright, Commissar?” the pilot questioned over the crackling intercom, hearing the rattling of the restraint.

“Yes, everything’s fine, thank you.” The Commissar replied, raising her voice so the pilot could hear her in his compartment, trying to avoid a sarcastic tone. Everything was not fine, it was far from fine. Verena Tyber sighed once more, rubbing her forehead with frustration. Recently graduated from the Schola Progenium, the Commissariat had assigned her to her first posting, the first regiment she would be attached to. She was relatively young for a Commissar, she had not served as part of a Cadet Commissar training squad and neither had she been seconded as a Junior under a more senior Commissar. She had graduated on merit alone, deemed competent enough by her instructors and assessors due to her strong academic record, weapons proficiency, and high scores in various aspects of combat training. However classroom scenarios were not the same as dealing with a real flesh and blood regiment, training exercises very different from the harsh bloody realities of a battlefield. She was young and inexperienced, and she had been provided with very little information about the regiment she was to join. You could always count on the Departmento Munitorum to be vague.

The Commissar could feel herself beginning to get wound up, starting to anger. She was young, she even looked young, and she was fresh from the Schola, but she was determined to do her duty well, to serve the Emperor in the way only a Commissar could. She would oversee the morale of her regiment, enforce discipline among the ranks, and inspire the men and instil in them the glory to be found in fighting in His Imperial Guard. But how was she able to do this when she lacked even the most basic information! It didn’t help that she stuck in this frakking cradle! She hated space flight, her petite form trapped by the uncomfortable restraint, while outside there was nothingness.

Taking a deep breath, Verena closed her eyes, reciting to herself words of the Imperial Creed and various litanies. The last stanza of the Libation to the Emperor, and in the dark when the shadows threaten, The Emperor is with us, in spirit and in fact. The Litany to Duty, give me the strengh to carry my duty through, and smite those who seek to thwart me. She felt herself beginning to calm, her body starting to relax. Exhaling slowly she opened her eyes, once again returning to the dataslate. The name of the Regiment was even missing, it was simply detailed as Light Infantry, which should prove interesting for her first posting.

While it lacked information about the regiment, it contained more about the situation on the planet slowly coming into Verena’s view from the port opposite her. Cassell was the small capital planet of a border system within the Ultima Segmentum. Passing through, a Rogue Trader vessel had spotted a small Tau fleet stationed their. Upon investigation he had found the Tau Empire had begun annexation of the system as it rested on the edge of their rapidly growing sphere of expansion. The Rogue Trader using his astropaths had sent word of these happenings, and a small fleet detachment had been dispatched to the system in response. There had been very little conflict so far, only a few firefights and nothing on a large scale, the tension was high between both sides as they found themselves at a standpoint as the Tau attempted diplomacy with the Imperium’s representatives.

Verena watched Cassell approaching through the reinforced viewport, getting bigger and bigger until it filled the entirity of the small hole. The Arvus began to shake, the viewport glowing bright orange, as the pilot announced they were entering the atmosphere. The Commissar squeezed her eyes shut, her knuckles white as she held the acceleration cradle tight, its solid frame stopping her from being thrown about. Frak, frak, frak, frak, she cursed again and again to herself. In the back of the mind, she knew that she was going to have to get used to this, get over this fear if she was to be respected, if she was to be remembered as doing great things.

“We are making our descent Commissar” the pilot informed, with Verena breathing a sigh of relief as she opened her eyes. They were going down on the dark side of the planet, the night sky turning to soft grey as they passed through the cloud cover and then dark again as they broke from it. She could make out the bright lights of the capital city below her which held her destination, the huge space port the Guard had overtaken as their headquarters, housing several regiments in the prefab buildings that had been erected.

The Arvus began to bank slightly, lining up for its landing as Verena watched the ground begin to get closer, seeming to rise up too quickly to meet her, eyes focused on a landing pad marked with flourescent lights. Then, they touched down gently with only the slightest shake, and the Commissar let out a breath she didn’t realise she had been holding. She quickly pushed against the cradle, raising it to free herself from her constraints, standing from the hard seat which snapped back up to folded.

“There you are Commissar, I hope you enjoyed the flight”. Was there a tone of amusement to his voice? She wasn’t sure. “Yes, thank you” she replied tersely, her heeled boots which added a few needed inches to her height ringing on the metal deck as she moved to retrieve her kit from a storage crate.

“I think you’ll your guys to the two o’clock of the ramp.” Verena didn’t bother to reply, did the damn Navy even know more than her? A scowl on her face she made her way past the stored supplied crates just as the lower ramp descended, a blast of cold air filling the cargo hold as the world gently swirled white outside. It was the beginning of the Cassellian winter, but Verena was prepared. Alongside the customary Commissar’s garb, she had slipped on a pair of fine black fur glvoes, pulling a scarf up over the lower half of her face, and stepped out into the snow as it fell in the night.

It was cold, but not exceptionally so for the Commissar. Verena had memories of a much colder, much harsher, much whiter land before she was sent to one of the many worlds of the Schola Progenium. Her greatcoat drawn tight around her with its collar up, her hat angled down low over her face, she set off to find her regiment in the direction the pilot had said.

It didn’t take her long, after making a few inquiries with men on guard duty who were all too happy to help the Commissar, she stood outside the Officer’s billet of the regiment she was to be attached to, whoever they were. Pushing her way inside, she was greeted with warmth, shutting the door and the cold out behind her as she lightly kicked the snow from her boots, her cap and shoulders holding a light dusting.

The room was sparse, a few chairs and a desk. Clearly a waiting room. A guardsman sat at the desk, his feet upon the wooden surface idly flicking through a holo slate. Verena approached him, waiting to look up. She set her kitbag on the floor. He still didn’t look up from the slate.

Clearing her throat softly, she waited, and after a moment the guardsman finally dragged his eyes away from whatever was so important. She had to resist from smiling as a look of shocked surprise began to spread across his features as he took in the sight of her, the greatcoat, the cap. She reached up to pull the scarfe from over her mouth and nose as the guardsman scrambled to his feet, snapping of a sharp salute. Verena simply replied with a slight inclination of her head.

“Tell whoever is in command here that Commissar Tyber has arrived. I do not want to be kept waiting.”

Before he could make to leave, she reached across the desk, taking up the forgotten holoslate. She was greeted with an image of a large breasted woman wearing nothing but combat boots. “This is contraband.” The Commissar said plainly, looking up at the man who held an uncertain expression. “Do not let me catch you with this again.” She held the slate out to him, but withdrew her harm at the last moment just as he went to reach for it. “Especially when you are on duty, understood?” she added sternly before letting him take it from her gloved hand. “Be on your way.”

The guardsman snapped another salute, muttered a yes Commissar, thank you Commissar, before he scurried off about his task. Verena turned from the desk, clasping her hands behind her back, allowing herself to smile only when she was certain he was out of sight. Well done Rena, she congratulated herself, straightening her cap, very well handled. Her thoughts sounded almost exactly like the her Schola instructors.​

The 13th Draconian had been part of the rapid response force which had first landed on Cassel, two weeks after the xenos threat had been reported. Fresh from participating in the bloody Imperial victory in the nearby Vespasian system, their battlegroup was the nearest and also recently experienced with the Tau threat. So far there were approximately three thousand Guardsmen landed to participate in the conflict, including several different regiments, of whom around three hundred represented the Draconian attachment.

The last few weeks had been spent in a tense standoff. Several early engagements had erupted around the main flashpoint of the conflict, Cassell's key hive city, Valeria, but as of yet the conflict had a much lower attrition rate than their previous engagement. Diplomacy was being conducted somewhere high up the ranks, but seemed to be getting nowhere.

Little of that concerned Captain Marcus Blake, commander of the Third Company. He had his own worries, all of those that came with being in charge of a unit numbering around 100 guardmen, split into three platoons with combat support units and his own personal staff attached. His regiment were classed Light Infantry, trained and experienced in scouting, infiltration and guerilla warfare. They were an idiosyncratic group, at times difficult to manage, but they were also hardened by two separate active deployments since their founding five years previously, interspersed with peacekeeping duties.

Just returned from exploratory patrols to the West of Hive Valeria, the men had been in the field for three days with minimal rest, and as they returned to base camp Captain Blake ordered his platoon commanders Lieutenants Fitzwilliam, Crane and Marlowe, to get them fed, rested, resupplied and then billeted, before a debrief of all platoon officers in his command tent.

One of the aides informed him that a Commissar was here, and immediately Marcus remembered that they had been due for a replacement to arrive this week. He dismissed the staffer and made his way through the camp towards his command post through the rows of stone grey tents.

Draconians were a tough and often hostile people, hailing from Draco, a Death World on the edge of the Segmentum Obscurus. At some point bombarded with nuclear weapons, much of the planet was dangerously irradiated, and the skies were perpetually darkened. Covered in hostile woodland and the odd derilict city, its people were pale and wiry, suspicious and difficult to trust, though intensely loyal to one another, united by shared hardship. The woodlands were dark and dangerous places, populated by mutated predators and worse, and humanity clustered around small villages and towns, tiny points of light amidst the darkness.

Blake himself, like all of the officers, was one of the aristocratic class, hailing from the one functioning hive, Dormer. Draconians were feudal by nature and generally loyal to their masters, and in return the nobility always made sure to temper their privilege by sharing in the difficulties of their homeworld. Children born into the aristocratic families of Dormer were trained to undergo extended hunts in the wilderness, after the most exotic of mutated animals, in order to complete their rite of passage into adulthood.

Marcus swept up the flap of the command tent and continued inside within one stride, with no salute immediately forthcoming. He saw the new Commissar standing there and kept moving, dropping his pack next to the table before turning to recognise her presence with an inclination of his head in her direction and a brief smile.

"Captain Marcus Blake, commanding officer of the third company, 13th Draconian, Light Infantry, at your service ma'am. I take it you're our new hangman then?" he asked, using he guard slang for a commissar jovially.

He began to remove outer layers of his field kit and progressively became more recognisable as a person. Without the pack and assault vest, his figure seemed light and wiry, muscular but not overly built, and without the weight he stood tall at well over six foot. Lean and pale, his physique and gait (exhausted as he was), betrayed a certain hidden strength and force of endurance, hardened and tested over long conflicts. His hair was dark and eyes blue, like almost all Draconians, and his complexion was darkened by several days stubble from living in the field, along with a fair amount of dirt mixed with camouflage paint.

"Sorry for all the rush, we've been on patrol for the last few days and only just got back, hopefully you weren't waiting long?" he asked, going about his post-deployment routine as he talked. Power sword and bolt pistol both came off of his belt and cast onto the table to be dealt with later, though thankfully neither had seen any action on their last patrol. Unconcerned by her presence, his field jacket and then shirt also came off, revealing a muscular yet scarred torso beneath as he bent over the wash basin and ran water over his face and hair, cleaning off some of the grime which he had collected before turning to face her and drying off.

"Have you had an intelligence briefing yet, or any information on our unit?" he asked, for the first time fully focussing on her. To be honest she seemed a bit short, and possibly a bit female, to be a commissar. Not that he was one to judge, Blake was a sensible officer, and understood that the Schola didn't produce people incapable of leading, but he knew that his men weren't going to take her presence too kindly.

 

[Ghostwolf]

It seemed to Verena that she had been waiting a while, and she was starting to become impatient. She had said that she did not want to be kept waiting, yet here she was. The snow had begun to melt on her shoulders and cap, so she removed it from her head to shake the collecting water from it and taking the opportunity to tuck a few stray red hairs away from her face. She put the symbol of her office back on, ensuring it sat straight before pulling her warm fur gloves off and stuffing them into the pocket of her grey coat. With her scarf away from her face, her breath was free to mist in the cool air as the gentle flurry of white continued outside. The Commissar eyed one of the chairs, but resisted the urge to sit down and rest her legs. It would not do for someone to walk in on her lounging, even if they had been keeping her waiting, Verena signed, beginning to pace within the tent as she waited.

A few moments later, the tent flapped lifted and the Commissar turned towards it and stepped inside. That explains it, she thought to herself as she noted the field kit of this newcomer. She was taken aback slightly by his lack of acknowledgement, especially a lack of salute. She would have to work on that. She managed not to show that it bothered her as the man moved past her and set down his pack. Only then did he acknowledge her with a tilt of his head and a smile, before introducing himself.

Verena couldn’t help but let a small frown cross her features, brows furrowing slightly with displeasure. She was not keen on the terminology he had used, but at least she now knew the name of the regiment. She would let it go, for now. “Commissar Verena Tyber. Yes, I suppose I am.” She nodded in affirmation as she looked at the Captain, trying to get the measure of the man. She stood patiently as he began to remove his field kit. Without it, he still seemed to dwarf Verena’s slender form despite her thick heavy Commissar’s garb, and there was a height difference of several inches between them even though she wore heeled boots which caused her to look up at him. Rena found it unfortunate; she certainly did not have an imposing physical presence.

She nodded along as he explained. “More than I would have liked, but it can’t be helped” she stated plainly, the Commissar’s voice was soft and smoky, but had a stern edge to it. Watching him place his sword and pistol on the desk, she wondered how many times they had been used and when were they last. Then he began to casually remove his jacket and shirt, leaving him bare-chested in front of her. Verena fought to hide her surprise as he shed his clothes, taking in the sight of him as he moved over to the basin and began washing. Her eyes drawn to the scars he carried, she wondered how he had received them, and to his muscle definition. She had of course seen a shirtless man before, and wearing much less, at the Schola, but never this close. The men and women had separate sleeping quarters and bathing facilities to avoid “unwanted complications” during their studies. Verena averted her eyes from him; she could feel a slight heat begin to prickle at her cheeks, a hint of soft pink upon her pale skin. His fitness was certainly not in question, if the same applied to the rest of the Regiment, Verena would not have to implement a training regime.

When he asked her the question, she returned her gaze to him. Her deep cobalt blue eyes were drawn immediately to a droplet of water than was slowly making its way down the Captain’s chest. She was distracted for only a second, inwardly shaking her head. Do your duty, let no one or nothing stand in your way.

The Commissar shook her head. “No. I’ve been given very little information. I arrived in-system on The Paragon and took the first shuttle down I could. So if you could fill me in, that would be most appreciated” she admitted, someone had to brief her after all. “Tell me Captain, where is your commanding officer? I expected to be greeted by him. Surely you aren’t in charge of the entire regiment?”
​

 

[Dionysius]

Having finished washing as best he could, Marcus dried himself off before getting a fresh shirt from his duffel as he chuckled slightly. "Excuse the slang, we're all pretty informal here, though I'm sure you'll want to set us straight on that." He was being frank and honest, the men played pretty fast and loose with the language and any commissar, fresh to the fight or not, would need to be able to take a joke.

Pulling himself into it and straightening the fit, he listened as she explained, still paying close attention to her as he busied himself around the tent, motioning to a chair "please, do sit down, if you'll just give me a minute we can go and find the Colonel". She definitely came across as new to this, a little too clean cut and perfect, but seemed nice enough, and intent on doing the right thing. Pretty as well, he smiled softly to himself as he wondered how that would go down with the boys.

"The 13th is a light infantry regiment, currently attached to this battlegroup to provide reconnaissance support. We've been here since the beginning, pulled straight out of the Vespasian conflict with the rapid response force. My men have just spent a year killing these Tau, so we're pretty clear what we're doing. Our regiment is small, three companies of three platoons each, along with combat support, but they're all experienced fighters. They've got about three thousand troops planetside at the moment I believe, everything from armored companies to engineers, to guys like us.

We've just been running patrols, originally around our basecamp here to secure the terrain and establish the foothold we need, then reconnaissance of Valeria, the main hive city"

Marcus laughed "No, you're correct, that would be Colonel Flyte, my commanding officer. In all likelihood he's at a briefing with central command, I sent a runner to locate him and let him know I've returned. You'll probably meet my fellow company commanders at some point, Captain Pierpat of the 1st Company and Captain Vane of the 2nd. Oh, and Lieutenant Moore, he's in charge of regimental administration and field support. The other two companies are still out on field patrol, they had the far side of the Hive so aren't scheduled to be back for a few more hours, no doubt that's why you were sent over to my billet, Shall we go see if we can't find the Colonel"

Refreshed, he strapped back on his personal weapons and body armour, all coloured a dull grey with sparse deep red trimmings. Leading her out the tent, they walked through the camp, between the rows of tents where his men were sorting out their own administration. He spoke with the occasional NCO, all of whom were slightly wary of her, but responded positively to him when they were introduced, but very mutch kept their momentum towards the command tent.

 

[Ghostwolf]

After washing and after drying himself off, the Captain’s features were much more visible without the grime and camouflage paint he had worn when he had first entered the tent. He was more recognisable as a civilised member of the Imperial Guard. Verena nodded as he explained. She would have to get used to it, and develop a thick skin. She wanted to be respected by the men of the 13th, not feared, and although she would have to be stern she did not want to be overly harsh. There was far too many tales of what happened to Commissars that were cruel and disliked, especially if the regiment they were attached to hailed from a deathworld as the Draconian did. Policing their language was certainly harsh. In time, and the longer she spent with the regiment, she knew she would find herself starting to adopt their slang as her own.

Verena took advantage of his invitation, walking over to one of the chairs that faced him. Adjusting the chainsword which was currently hidden under her fastemed greatcoat she sat down and crossed one leg over the other, resting her hands together in her lap. As he spoke, she paid careful attention to what he was saying. Taking in the information and filing it away using the techniques she had been taught at the Schola so she could remember and recall it later. She was surprised to hear how small a regiment the 13th actually was, but it did mean that there were fewer men and therefore less infractions she had to deal with. Her only worry was that as they were an experienced group, they would be set in their ways and it would likely prove a struggle for Verena to correct any behaviour she disliked. The Commissar nodded along as he spoke to demonstrate that she was listening and paying attention. They had experience with the Tau too, that would prove useful. She would have to get the Captain’s opinion of them sometime soon, his assessment of how they fought. Yes, she had the academic background knowledge regarding the Tau Empire, but actual experience fighting this particular form of xeno was much more useful.

The Commissar nodded, “I see” filling away the names for later. “Yes, lets. Better now than later, then you can get some well deserved rest.” Verena smiled softly as she uncrossed her legs and stood to her feet, waiting for the Captain to reequip himself and lead the way out of the tent. She resisted the urge to put her gloves back on and followed him back out into the snow.

Verena followed him as he led her through the camp and she took in the sights of it, noting the way they had come. Men were sorting or cleaning their equipment, others were talking or playing cards and other such recreational activities, while some slept. The Captain and the Commissar ran into a few NCO’s who the Captain stopped to talk to for a few moments each. Verena never spoke to them, nor did they to her. They were obviously wary about her status and position, but she was amused that some of them seemed to notice that she was a woman before they noticed she was a Commissar. Some barely hid the questioning looks on their faces. She would show them that she was every bit worthy of the position, despite her sex and stature.

They continued to move towards the command tent, the Captain leading the way. Verena took the time to question the man about the situation. “Have there been any major engagements with the Tau on Cassell so far despite the negotiations?” She thought it best to know whether it would be likely if the regiment she was attached to would sustain casualties any time soon, she needed to know of anything that would affect morale. This led her to asking another question as they passed through a quieter area as they headed towards the command tent. “Tell me Captain, has a female Commissar ever been attached to the regiment in the past?” She thought for a moment. “Why am I here, who am I replacing? What happened to your last Commissar?” It was best to find out if it was a “friendly fire” incident as soon as possible.
​

 

[Dionysius]

As he walked through the camp Marcus did his best to answer her questions, pausing every so often to instruct his men

"Ha, no rest for me, not for a while at least. We still have our own debrief to do, then I'll be passing that on to the Colonel and my fellow officers. The Tau already seem to have a presence in the Hive, and our patrols encountered several outposts on the Western edge, which we've been matching and tracking...

Jackson, get the heavier weaponry seen to at once! I want our heavy bolters ready for action next time we deploy!

Standing patrols of footsoldiers running between a handful of solid emplacement, but with the Tau more firepower can always materialise within minutes so we were ordered not to engage yet, just to get the lay
of the land....

Sergeant, I want a readiness report across the company when we do our debrief! One platoon needs to be ready for rapid response at any given time, on six hour shifts, we've still got Draconians in the field.

Good news is that it's marshy, heavily wooded, or rock. Limited sightlines for them to exploit with heavier weaponry, and more our kind of terrain. Hopefully we'll get given the go ahead to get in an clear out the bastards in the next few days, and finally exploit the few routes we've got through."

He turned and smiled at her for a second, "You'll have to excuse the men, we haven't had a woman with the Regiment in quite some time, since our initial formation. They'll get used to it I'm sure"

"No major engagements yet, a handful of firefights, the Second Company took some casualties last week, Tau rolled out in force when our embedded engineers were setting up some airburst mines to dissuade any ground advancements towards a Forward Ops Base"

She was obviously suspicious, and rightly so, Commissars had been known to dissapear once they went into the field, though he dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand.

"Your predecessor was Commissar Worth, he'd been attached to our regiment for several years. On Vespasia Prime we were taking back a Hive, and running guerilla warfare in the streets. The command group came under attack from some Tau Auxilliary mercenaries who got through the lines, and a big old xenos cut him down. He was a great man, and you've got some big shoes to fill"

Entering the tent, Colonel Flyte was immediately obvious. A towering man, silver haired and broad in stature, was bent over his command table, studying it intently as various aides moved in orbit of him. He looked up at them, the dull red glare of a bionic eye sitting within a scarred socket washed over the two as he barked in characteristic Draconian Low Gothic:

"So, this is our new Commissar? Tyber is it? You're awfully small, I wouldn't have noticed you if you'd come in behind Captain Blake here"

Marcus gave her a look which did its best to say He doesn't pull any punches and generally apologise for the Colonel as the old man continued, turning to his Junior.

"Fine work out there Blake, quiet as ghosts. Unfortunately, neither of your compatriots are back yet. Pierpat and some of his First got pinned down at one of the observation points, he has a whole platoon held up in some woodland whilst the Tau scout around, we don't know what spooked them. Just footsoldiers at the moment, but we're doing our best to

Sergeant McGarry and the rest of his Company are nearby waiting to rendevous with them before we extract, and I've halted Vane and the Second at their own extraction point to go and provide close support if needed. Seems this day may not be over yet"

His gaze turned back to Tyber "Tell me, when we have to finally go toe to toe with these bastards, are you ready to do some fighting?"

 

[Ghostwolf]

Verena listened intently as the Captain briefed her, explaining what the situation on the planet was in more detail. The more she knew and understood the better. If she knew the conditions the men were operating in, the likelihood of them being engaged in a firefight and other, the better she could gauge the morale of the men, and the easier she would be able to respond proactively to any negativity within the regiment. As he told her about the geography and layout of the local area around the Hive, the Commissar made a mental note to look over the maps of the area when she had a spare moment later. It would not do for her to have no idea of where things were situated.

Verena nodded, returning the Captain’s smile with one of her own. “I understand. New things can be strange and take some getting used to, but I’m sure they will in time.” He returned to talking about the enemy they were currently stalemated with, but was pleased to hear there had been no major engagements yet, only a few casualties here and there when the tension between the two forces became even more strained. It sounded as if the Tau hadn’t yet used or mobilised any of their more destructive warfare, which was something at least. Rena had read about the destructive power their weapons held, the uncanny mobility of the suits some of them piloted.

So that was what had happened to her predecessor, the person whose shoes she was filling. She fought the urge to sigh in relief at hearing his death was not due to the actions of the men of the regiment. Instead, with a solemn look on her pretty features she nodded. “It sounds like you respected him. Don’t worry, I shall try my best to be every bit the Commissar he was and serve the regiment well.” She smiled softly as the Captain before they entered the tent.

Verena immediately noticed the Colonel, his attention fixed on the command table as they entered. The very height and stature of the man made the petite Rena feel like a child in comparison. As he looked up, she fought the urge not to stare at the bionic that shined brightly within his skull. He spoke, his voice gruff and harsh.

“Yes Colonel. Commissar Verena Tyber. A pleasure to serve alongside the 13t.” She saluted the man. Although she was not required to, it was better to show respect and get off to a good start. No doubt there were lots she could learn from him. The Colonel continued, commenting on her height, and she was unsure how to respond. Her back straightened further, pushing a chest out a little, as if she was trying to increase her height and make herself look more impressive. At least he wasn’t commenting negatively on her being a woman. She caught the apologetic look from Marcus. Well, she supposed you didn’t become a Colonel by being polite and friendly all the time. You had to get to the point and get things done.

The Colonel continued, filling them both in on the situation and what was happening. She watched the Captain from the corner of her eye, assessing him, watching his response. Until the Colonel spoke to her, dragging her attention back to him.

“Yes Colonel, more than ready. I graduated from the Schola top of my class, including the combat training and exercise, and I am proficient with many weapons and styles. I will do whatever is needed to ensure the success of this regiment.” The Commissar smiled a little as she talked, gazing at the Colonel from under the peak of her cap, proud of her achievements at the Schola and confident of her ability to lead and inspire the men, and fight alongside them.

 

[Dionysius]

Verena listened intently as the Captain briefed her, explaining what the situation on the planet was in more detail. The more she knew and understood the better. If she knew the conditions the men were operating in, the likelihood of them being engaged in a firefight and other, the better she could gauge the morale of the men, and the easier she would be able to respond proactively to any negativity within the regiment. As he told her about the geography and layout of the local area around the Hive, the Commissar made a mental note to look over the maps of the area when she had a spare moment later. It would not do for her to have no idea of where things were situated.

Verena nodded, returning the Captain’s smile with one of her own. “I understand. New things can be strange and take some getting used to, but I’m sure they will in time.” He returned to talking about the enemy they were currently stalemated with, but was pleased to hear there had been no major engagements yet, only a few casualties here and there when the tension between the two forces became even more strained. It sounded as if the Tau hadn’t yet used or mobilised any of their more destructive warfare, which was something at least. Rena had read about the destructive power their weapons held, the uncanny mobility of the suits some of them piloted.

So that was what had happened to her predecessor, the person whose shoes she was filling. She fought the urge to sigh in relief at hearing his death was not due to the actions of the men of the regiment. Instead, with a solemn look on her pretty features she nodded. “It sounds like you respected him. Don’t worry, I shall try my best to be every bit the Commissar he was and serve the regiment well.” She smiled softly as the Captain before they entered the tent.

Verena immediately noticed the Colonel, his attention fixed on the command table as they entered. The very height and stature of the man made the petite Rena feel like a child in comparison. As he looked up, she fought the urge not to stare at the bionic that shined brightly within his skull. He spoke, his voice gruff and harsh.

“Yes Colonel. Commissar Verena Tyber. A pleasure to serve alongside the 13t.” She saluted the man. Although she was not required to, it was better to show respect and get off to a good start. No doubt there were lots she could learn from him. The Colonel continued, commenting on her height, and she was unsure how to respond. Her back straightened further, pushing a chest out a little, as if she was trying to increase her height and make herself look more impressive. At least he wasn’t commenting negatively on her being a woman. She caught the apologetic look from Marcus. Well, she supposed you didn’t become a Colonel by being polite and friendly all the time. You had to get to the point and get things done.

The Colonel continued, filling them both in on the situation and what was happening. She watched the Captain from the corner of her eye, assessing him, watching his response. Until the Colonel spoke to her, dragging her attention back to him.

“Yes Colonel, more than ready. I graduated from the Schola top of my class, including the combat training and exercise, and I am proficient with many weapons and styles. I will do whatever is needed to ensure the success of this regiment.” The Commissar smiled a little as she talked, gazing at the Colonel from under the peak of her cap, proud of her achievements at the Schola and confident of her ability to lead and inspire the men, and fight alongside them.

She seemed ready enough, Marcus thought, keen to do her job and do it well. "Yes, I suppose I did" he thought out loud "he was a great man. I hope so" he added. Indeed, Worth had been good, excellent in fact. Though not a native to their own homeworld, the Draconians had given him a true regimental funeral, cremated on a wooden pyre whilst they all stood around saying the ancient prayers which all children on Draco learnt to keep the darkness at bay.

Verena seemed to handle the Colonel well, something it usually took newcomers a long time to, though he noticed that the Colonel didn't bother to return her salute. In a pause whilst the older man poured over the maps, Marcus explained.

"We don't salute in the field, even in a basecamp. It's practice for when we're on the move, you don't want Tau scouts knowing how the leaders are, never worthwhile"

Flyte himself spoke up, his voice growling louder than Captain Blake's softer tones. "Get the quartermaster to issue her some field gear Captain, particularly a camo cloak. We all wear them whilst on ops, it's hooded and helps to keep us safe. We're light infantry, Commissar Tyber, and my men see action up close and personal. Pretty little uniforms are all good in the Schola, but won't do you much use up here when the battlesuited-bastards are flying overhead. However well you were able to shoot targets" He added rather dryly to the Captain "You have men to see to, before our field briefing. I'll send a runner to keep you appraised of the situation with the other Companies should anything come up. Dismissed"

Captain Blake showed her out of the tent, following close behind "Excuse the Colonel, he's rather set in his ways. Until the others are back you're welcome to meet some of my men" he explained, retracing their steps to the camp. One platoon were always on duty should they need to deploy, and even after their long days of exercise he wasn't letting them off of that duty just yet. Stopping by the stores on the way, he had them issue Tyber with the appropriate gear for combat.

"Sergeant Monroe, the Commissar would like to meet the men, get first platoon ready for inspection please" he asked, the Sergeant, a giant of a man even compared to the others, relayed the order at approximately triple the volume as the ranks of grey-uniformed men scrambled up.

 

[Ghostwolf]

Of course, how could she forget that? Verena almost felt like a young, foolish child as the Captain informed her of why they did not salute in the field, reminded her of what she already knew but had slipped her mind. Heat spread across her face, a pink appearing on her cheeks with embarrassment as she averted her eyes and nodded in response.

“Yes, of course. Sorry.”

The Colonel interrupted her apology, continuing to speak with his gruff tone. Verena did not like the way he was speaking to her, the way he appeared to disrespect her position and her uniform. It was this uniform that marked her out as one of the Commissariat. The cap, the red sash, the great coat. They were all items of her office, they instantly marked her out as one to be respected, to be feared. The Colonel did not seem to understand that. Then when he commented on her marksmanship, Verena frowned, her lips forming into a tight thin line. She could show him how good a shot she was. It was well within her power, to draw open her great coat, to take hold of her bolt pistol, to punish him for his insolence. Verena’s fingers twitched at the thought. No, that was not the type of Commissar she was going to be. She had to learn to put up with the criticism, and instead she would make the Colonel respect her, and respect her position.

Verena followed the Captain out of the tent not a moment too soon, relieved to be out of the Colonel’s presence. The less time she spends around the man the better.
“Yes, clearly. He’s certainly speaks his mind it seems.” Her first meeting with the Colonel had put Verena in a sour mood, but perhaps meeting the men might improve that mood. “Yes, that sounds like a good idea.”

They both went to the Quartermaster, and Verena received the equipment she would need for the field before they headed off to meet the Captain’s men. The Commissar greeted the Sergeant with a warm smile and a nod, before being startled slightly by how loudly he ordered the men to form up. Verena would have to get used to that.

As she waited for the men to assemble the Commissar opened her greatcoat despite the cold night air and the snow, revealing the clothing underneath, the pants and tunic that was drawn tight over petite chest, that hugged her form and emphasised her slight curves. Displaying the red sash wound tightly around her waist along with her chainsword and boltpistol, the wind blowing at the tail of her coat, the cap seated firmly upon her head, and her hands clasped behind her back. At this moment, she cast an impressive figure despite her size. This was what years of training had gone into.

She cast a critical gaze over the men standing at attention, a steely expression painted upon her pretty feminine features. The majority of them were dark haired and blue eyed like the Captain, a trait of their homeworld it seemed. The platoon did not look too bad from first appearances, they had formed up well.

“Gentlemen, good evening” Verena’s voice was loud and clear, years of practice showing. “I shall not keep you long. I am Commissar Tyber, and I am to be the 13th’s attached regimental Commissar. I wished to introduce myself to those who I would have the pleasure of fighting alongside.” Her words were measured, chosen carefully for their impact. “I am aware I am taking the place of a man who was well-liked, who was well-respected. But, in time, I hope to do his memory proud, to serve this regiment as he did.” Her eyes moved, taking in the men arranged before her as she spoke, a soft smile starting to play at her lips.​

 

[Dionysius]

Of course, how could she forget that? Verena almost felt like a young, foolish child as the Captain informed her of why they did not salute in the field, reminded her of what she already knew but had slipped her mind. Heat spread across her face, a pink appearing on her cheeks with embarrassment as she averted her eyes and nodded in response.

“Yes, of course. Sorry.”

The Colonel interrupted her apology, continuing to speak with his gruff tone. Verena did not like the way he was speaking to her, the way he appeared to disrespect her position and her uniform. It was this uniform that marked her out as one of the Commissariat. The cap, the red sash, the great coat. They were all items of her office, they instantly marked her out as one to be respected, to be feared. The Colonel did not seem to understand that. Then when he commented on her marksmanship, Verena frowned, her lips forming into a tight thin line. She could show him how good a shot she was. It was well within her power, to draw open her great coat, to take hold of her bolt pistol, to punish him for his insolence. Verena’s fingers twitched at the thought. No, that was not the type of Commissar she was going to be. She had to learn to put up with the criticism, and instead she would make the Colonel respect her, and respect her position.

Verena followed the Captain out of the tent not a moment too soon, relieved to be out of the Colonel’s presence. The less time she spends around the man the better.
“Yes, clearly. He’s certainly speaks his mind it seems.” Her first meeting with the Colonel had put Verena in a sour mood, but perhaps meeting the men might improve that mood. “Yes, that sounds like a good idea.”

They both went to the Quartermaster, and Verena received the equipment she would need for the field before they headed off to meet the Captain’s men. The Commissar greeted the Sergeant with a warm smile and a nod, before being startled slightly by how loudly he ordered the men to form up. Verena would have to get used to that.

As she waited for the men to assemble the Commissar opened her greatcoat despite the cold night air and the snow, revealing the clothing underneath, the pants and tunic that was drawn tight over petite chest, that hugged her form and emphasised her slight curves. Displaying the red sash wound tightly around her waist along with her chainsword and boltpistol, the wind blowing at the tail of her coat, the cap seated firmly upon her head, and her hands clasped behind her back. At this moment, she cast an impressive figure despite her size. This was what years of training had gone into.

She cast a critical gaze over the men standing at attention, a steely expression painted upon her pretty feminine features. The majority of them were dark haired and blue eyed like the Captain, a trait of their homeworld it seemed. The platoon did not look too bad from first appearances, they had formed up well.

“Gentlemen, good evening” Verena’s voice was loud and clear, years of practice showing. “I shall not keep you long. I am Commissar Tyber, and I am to be the 13th’s attached regimental Commissar. I wished to introduce myself to those who I would have the pleasure of fighting alongside.” Her words were measured, chosen carefully for their impact. “I am aware I am taking the place of a man who was well-liked, who was well-respected. But, in time, I hope to do his memory proud, to serve this regiment as he did.” Her eyes moved, taking in the men arranged before her as she spoke, a soft smile starting to play at her lips.​

Marcus watched as Verena paced in front of his men, glad to see her coming into her own despite the Colonel's best efforts. Whatever they were teaching them at her Schola, it certainly seemed difficult to forget. The men were a good state for the most part, some still not fully changed after the patrols but all came to attention smartly despite that, still alert and ready for combat as the designated platoon prepared for quick response to any developing combat situations. He was proud of his men, they worked well as a team, and were disciplined when they needed to be. If there was anyone in the Guard who could kick the Tau off of Cassel, it would be the Draconians. At least, they liked to think so.

None of the men should give the Commissar much trouble, generally they were a orderly bunch. The occasional minor infractions were regular, but none of the regiment had been pressed into service, they were closely knit as a group and very loyal to eachother, and the officers did their best to make sure they were well looked after. The only times her predecessor had needed to take serious disciplinary action had been during long periods of intensive conflict with the enemy, and even then desertion was scarce. But they knew the Tau, they could appear within seconds and used weapons which could tear apart squads at a time. Without the element of surprise their light infantry always struggled. Luckily, all they had seen much evidence for on their patrols were the ground troops and a few auxilliaries, but that could always change in the blink of an eye.

She did well in addressing Worth's legacy, and he certainly appreciated it. The men certainly did too, and assuming that she had finished with her introduction Marcus continued "Commissar Tyber will be attached to our regiment, supporting Colonel Flyte and his command staff. Until the other two companies return, we're all there is here. If the Commissar has nothing more to say, then you'd best get back to your work, and listen for orders?" he checked that was all the time she wanted, before nodding to Monroe to dismiss them.

"I have a debrief in my command center that you're welcome to attend with all of my officers, or I can have someone show you to your new quarters and we can get you settled in?"

 

[Ghostwolf]

Standing before the men gathered before her, hands clasped behind her back, Verena nodded to herself and smiled. Satisfied and pleased at both the men and her performance in addressing them. She was impressed, the men seemed well turned out for the most part as they stood to attention. Nothing overly unacceptable or order of order, they were on duty after all and had been gathered without any prior warning. These men were experienced; they spent most of their time in the field, and had been transferred straight from one conflict to this one. She couldn’t expect them to be as presentable, as sharp, crisp, and shiny as a newly raised regiment. They would have picked up bad habits, they would have become complacent, and let some of their standards slip, but the other side of that was they had that combat experience, they knew their enemy, and had spilled their blood in the Emperor’s name. In all likelihood, some of them had probably ditched unnecessary equipment long ago, that which served little purpose or was too heavy, or rattled and shined too much, other pieces were probably lost in the field.

No, as it stood, the Commissar was pleased with the men arranged before her. There appeared nothing urgent which stood out as demanding her urgent attention to correct. So when the Captain asked if she had anything more to say, she shook her head in response, watching as the men were dismissed and headed back to the their duties and what they were doing beforehand.

The Captain asked her what she would like to do, attend the briefing or be shown to her quarters, and it was only then that Verena realised how tired she was, and would have welcomed the opportunity to rest. Yet, that was yet another thing she would have to get used to, she would have to build up her stamina and endurance. It was likely she would spend most of the time wear and exhausted, craving sleep and rest, best to get used to it as soon as possible. Besides, it would be much better to show willing, that she was interested in the regiment and the men who made it, and attend the briefing to find out and assess the current situation.

“I’ll accompany you to the debriefing if you don’t mind Captain; I’d prefer to be kept informed about what has been happening. There will be plenty of time to rest at the Emperor’s side.” She smiled at the Captain, a small chuckle accompanying her own dark humour. “Please, lead the way” she indicated with her hand, nodding politely.

As the pair began to set off to their destination, Verena’s boots kicking up small puffs of soft white powder as the snow began to lay, she asked him a question. “Tell me Captain, is there anyone I should keep an eye on within the Regiment, any trouble makers?” Better to know early, so she would know their history and be prepared to deal with them.

​

 

[Dionysius]

Standing before the men gathered before her, hands clasped behind her back, Verena nodded to herself and smiled. Satisfied and pleased at both the men and her performance in addressing them. She was impressed, the men seemed well turned out for the most part as they stood to attention. Nothing overly unacceptable or order of order, they were on duty after all and had been gathered without any prior warning. These men were experienced; they spent most of their time in the field, and had been transferred straight from one conflict to this one. She couldn’t expect them to be as presentable, as sharp, crisp, and shiny as a newly raised regiment. They would have picked up bad habits, they would have become complacent, and let some of their standards slip, but the other side of that was they had that combat experience, they knew their enemy, and had spilled their blood in the Emperor’s name. In all likelihood, some of them had probably ditched unnecessary equipment long ago, that which served little purpose or was too heavy, or rattled and shined too much, other pieces were probably lost in the field.

No, as it stood, the Commissar was pleased with the men arranged before her. There appeared nothing urgent which stood out as demanding her urgent attention to correct. So when the Captain asked if she had anything more to say, she shook her head in response, watching as the men were dismissed and headed back to the their duties and what they were doing beforehand.

The Captain asked her what she would like to do, attend the briefing or be shown to her quarters, and it was only then that Verena realised how tired she was, and would have welcomed the opportunity to rest. Yet, that was yet another thing she would have to get used to, she would have to build up her stamina and endurance. It was likely she would spend most of the time wear and exhausted, craving sleep and rest, best to get used to it as soon as possible. Besides, it would be much better to show willing, that she was interested in the regiment and the men who made it, and attend the briefing to find out and assess the current situation.

“I’ll accompany you to the debriefing if you don’t mind Captain; I’d prefer to be kept informed about what has been happening. There will be plenty of time to rest at the Emperor’s side.” She smiled at the Captain, a small chuckle accompanying her own dark humour. “Please, lead the way” she indicated with her hand, nodding politely.

As the pair began to set off to their destination, Verena’s boots kicking up small puffs of soft white powder as the snow began to lay, she asked him a question. “Tell me Captain, is there anyone I should keep an eye on within the Regiment, any trouble makers?” Better to know early, so she would know their history and be prepared to deal with them.

​

Marcus smiled at her sense of humour, appreciating the effort from her. No doubt the commissar was weary from her travels to be here, he would have understood completely if she had wanted to rest up. It was likely that soon they would be at war, and everyone wouldn't be getting much sleep then. But no doubt the officers and NCOs would be glad to see the commissar there at the new briefing, even if they would still be a bit suspicious.

He lead the way back in the direction of his own command tent, where they had first met, as the enlisted men went back to their work, cleaning weapons and re-equipping amidst the cold, going about their duties easily. This weather was similar to their homeworld, and the Draconians were used to working in generally unsavory conditions.

"Not many, no. A few unruly men, as ever, it's to be expected, particularly considering the kind of work we do. Days of quiet and holding our breath, before sudden intense violence, usually at close range, and often with casualties. It can be unsettling not knowing when we'll next be engaged, and often we're lying in wait, trying to ambush a technologically superior enemy with more firepower and better armour. Sometimes the men take it badly, and it used to be a lot worse, particularly after our founding. But now it's just the veterans left, and they all know what we're up against.

A bit of casual gambling in some squads, sometimes we unearth a bit of contraband and occasionally narcotics. But nothing too serious usually, particularly when we're on the ground. I think they get bored with all this waiting. Corporal Ghent tells me you found him with a dataslate of some kind?" he laughed, guessing what it had been.

"He's a good kid, not the brightest, but good at what he does. He's my communications officer, and can work miracles with all of that kind of tech".

As they were approaching, he added "We did get into a bit of a scuffle a few weeks back, with another regiment. Praxians, armoured infantry, they're camped over that way a bit. A few bruised egos, nothing more, still don't know what was at the bottom of it all"

The tent flap opened and they stepped into the relative warmth, with a semicircle of the other officers. Marcus strode to the center, turned, and rested back on his desk.

"Right gentlemen, let's begin with first platoon, Fitzwilliam?"

The Lieutenants went through the areas which they had examined during their reconnaisance, several outposts along a twenty mile perimeter which they had been scouting to the West of the Hive. Troop strength, density, location, equipment and also movements were all duly noted, transcribed by the Corporal she had admonished earlier. The conversation was quite openly run and informal, with observations being noted throughout by all participants, and it built up a picture of a generally well guarded western flank which would be difficult to assault easily. After they had discussed all elemenets of the operation, Blake nodded to Verena.

"At this point I'd like to invite our new Commisar to ask any questions of her own to you, considering our regiment, the operation we've just been under, or the general state of the mission here?"

 

[Ghostwolf]

Verena followed the Captain as he began to lead her back to his command tent, buttoning up her greatcoat and putting the collar up to protect her from the chill wind that began to blow. The Captain and the rest of the Draconians seemed somewhat unaware, or impervious to the increasingly unpleasant weather. The men had gone back to work, continuing their duties as they did before they had been assembled before their new Commissar. The 13th seemed very capable, experienced, from what she had seen so far, and that reassured her somewhat while also making her job harder. It would be easier to mold a fresh new regiment, as opposed to trying to fix an old one, but there seemed to be little to fix with the Draconians so far.

As the Captain began to speak, Verena increased her pace to walk beside him so she could hear him easily over the blowing wind, the snow falling heavier. It would get worse over the next few days, the temperatures dropping. The Tau in their battlesuits and advanced body armour would not be affected by it as much as those within the 13th, and that is something she would have to keep an eye on. She was thankful to hear there wasn’t too much of a discipline problem; it seemed to her that it most likely occurred when they were tensed, stressed, or inactive. Unsure of what would happen next, whether they would survive the next encounter with the enemy. Nothing unusual there. The Commissar would simply have to make sure to keep them busy, to keep them motivated and their spirits up. That should solve it somewhat.

“Of course,” she nodded, “There always is, it’s unavoidable. It’s not something I’m particularly concerned with at the moment. If it affects their performance, then that may change.” The Commissar laughed softly as he reminded her, a sweet musical noise slipping from her lips. “Ahah, yes, I did. I wasn’t too harsh on him, just gave him a warning and said that I did not want to catch him with it again. I’ll have to keep him in mind if I have any problems, save me from having to deal with the Techpriests and the Enginseers.”

“Praxians? I see” looking over to where he had indicated they were camped. Perhaps she should meet with their Commissar, to possibly find out the cause and make sure it didn’t happen again. And of course it would give her the opportunity to see how another Commissar worked.

Verena followed the Captain into the tent, smiling and nodding politely to the officers in the room as way of introduction, before standing off to the side with her hands clasped behind her back as she listened. She like the way Blake worked, he seemed to know what he was doing. It was probably wise to try and learn as much as she could from the man, befriend him if she could. She listened carefully as the Lieutenants went through the information and intelligence they had gathered, one of her hands moving to support her chin as she thought.

Invited to speak, she nodded and then spoke after a moment. “So it is clear then that an attack on the western flank would be unwise. Are there any gaps or weaknesses in their line that we would do well take advantage of? Likewise, are there any weaknesses in our own line they may assault?” she asked, looking at the Captain and the officers.

“Captain, you also mentioned previously that so far it seemed the Tau forces were comprised mainly of Auxiliaries, are there any notable races amongst them?” What she was really asking was if there were Kroot on the planet, she had read and heard about their prowess in combat, especially if things got up close, and they were especially good at setting ambushes. She did not want the 13th to fall into one.

“If the Tau mobilise armour and their battlesuits against us, what is the plan of action? What weapons can we bring to bear?” It would not do if the 13th were left fighting gravtanks with lasrifles.
​

 

[Dionysius]

Verena followed the Captain as he began to lead her back to his command tent, buttoning up her greatcoat and putting the collar up to protect her from the chill wind that began to blow. The Captain and the rest of the Draconians seemed somewhat unaware, or impervious to the increasingly unpleasant weather. The men had gone back to work, continuing their duties as they did before they had been assembled before their new Commissar. The 13th seemed very capable, experienced, from what she had seen so far, and that reassured her somewhat while also making her job harder. It would be easier to mold a fresh new regiment, as opposed to trying to fix an old one, but there seemed to be little to fix with the Draconians so far.

As the Captain began to speak, Verena increased her pace to walk beside him so she could hear him easily over the blowing wind, the snow falling heavier. It would get worse over the next few days, the temperatures dropping. The Tau in their battlesuits and advanced body armour would not be affected by it as much as those within the 13th, and that is something she would have to keep an eye on. She was thankful to hear there wasn’t too much of a discipline problem; it seemed to her that it most likely occurred when they were tensed, stressed, or inactive. Unsure of what would happen next, whether they would survive the next encounter with the enemy. Nothing unusual there. The Commissar would simply have to make sure to keep them busy, to keep them motivated and their spirits up. That should solve it somewhat.

“Of course,” she nodded, “There always is, it’s unavoidable. It’s not something I’m particularly concerned with at the moment. If it affects their performance, then that may change.” The Commissar laughed softly as he reminded her, a sweet musical noise slipping from her lips. “Ahah, yes, I did. I wasn’t too harsh on him, just gave him a warning and said that I did not want to catch him with it again. I’ll have to keep him in mind if I have any problems, save me from having to deal with the Techpriests and the Enginseers.”

“Praxians? I see” looking over to where he had indicated they were camped. Perhaps she should meet with their Commissar, to possibly find out the cause and make sure it didn’t happen again. And of course it would give her the opportunity to see how another Commissar worked.

Verena followed the Captain into the tent, smiling and nodding politely to the officers in the room as way of introduction, before standing off to the side with her hands clasped behind her back as she listened. She like the way Blake worked, he seemed to know what he was doing. It was probably wise to try and learn as much as she could from the man, befriend him if she could. She listened carefully as the Lieutenants went through the information and intelligence they had gathered, one of her hands moving to support her chin as she thought.

Invited to speak, she nodded and then spoke after a moment. “So it is clear then that an attack on the western flank would be unwise. Are there any gaps or weaknesses in their line that we would do well take advantage of? Likewise, are there any weaknesses in our own line they may assault?” she asked, looking at the Captain and the officers.

“Captain, you also mentioned previously that so far it seemed the Tau forces were comprised mainly of Auxiliaries, are there any notable races amongst them?” What she was really asking was if there were Kroot on the planet, she had read and heard about their prowess in combat, especially if things got up close, and they were especially good at setting ambushes. She did not want the 13th to fall into one.

“If the Tau mobilise armour and their battlesuits against us, what is the plan of action? What weapons can we bring to bear?” It would not do if the 13th were left fighting gravtanks with lasrifles.
​

He smiled "Yes, Praxians. A difficult bunch, very self-important. You'll notice them by all the tanks, and the red and blue uniforms. And green, and gold, and white, and every other colour under the sun" Marcus laughed, to the Draconians the amount of effort which the Praxians put into their appearance as soldiers was ridiculous, their garish and pompous uniforms clashed with the dull grey of the Draconians flak just as starkly as the infantryman had clashed with eachother. No doubt though they would need that support when it came to the real fighting, so he was as keen as any to make sure that the relationship didn't get out of hand.

Whilst they progressed through the debriefing Marcus kept an eye on Verena, she seemed eager to learn what the situation was, intently listening and taking in whatever she could. He hoped that it would help when it came to fighting, which would doubtless come any day now.

"It is true, that most of the western flank looked unwise to make a direct assault upon, but given that it's the nearest to our own position here High Command wants a way through if at all possible. They've got a significant number of what we believe to be anti-air batteries located along the line, which makes a drop assault nearly impossible as well. Fitzwilliam, tell her about the drainage tubes"

The Lieutenant, who looked like a slightly younger and generally less scarred than the Captain, nodded and drew their attention to a central part of the battlelines on the fieldmap they had with them, spreading it out on the table and indicating a spot.

"Right here some of my men found a series of tunnels and pipes which we suspect exist as an emergency runoff for water which collects seasonally around the flatlands at the base of the Hive. They look disused, and it's the wrong time of year for them to be needed anyway. We need to get a better picture of how far they might go, and what we would encounter at the other end of them, but whilst they won't get us into the Hive itself there's a possibility that it could get us under the line"

The Captain interjected "But it could also be a great place to set a trap. We're still trying to figure that out" He added, cautioning them all on getting their hopes up too much. Marcus continued to answer her questions.

"We aren't maintaining a permanent line near the Hive, and different regiments are responsible for the perimiter which we've already established. But they don't seem to be going anywhere for the time being.

The forces largely seem to be Kroot, we've seen a few squadrons of those insectoid bastards with the wings, along with some... human auxilliaries. But Tau infantry are still strongly in force. What's concerning us is why they haven't attacked. The Tau don't play defensive, it isn't in their nature, they alwasy prefer to be on the front foot. Holding the Hive seems worryingly important to them"

Her last question made him smile "We've got a pretty heavy artillery package on standby, and so long as we aren't too close to the Hive itself there's a degree of air cover we can call in. I don't expect that anyone is going to try and put our guys up against them in a head-to-head conflict, we'll likely get something much worse than that2

 

[Ghostwolf]

The Commissar looked over the maps, trying to memorise the terrain, the location of landmarks, the placement of the Tau line. She crossed her arms under her petite bust, nibbling gently at her bottom lip as she thought, a habit of her’s. She looked up from the table as the Captain began to speak, her expressive eyes moving to him to find him already looking at her. Had the Captain been observing her, assessing how she was doing? Would he report back to the Colonel? She had to make a good impression.

Of course, always like High Command to want things over as quickly as possible, by taking the most direct route available, even if that was certain to result in a high amount of casualties. Command cared little for individual lives. Verena kept these thoughts to herself. It was her job to publicise, to persuade, that ever decision that was made was right and for the good of the Imperium. Even if she did not think so herself.

She turned her attention back to the map as Fitzwilliam began to explain, continuing the debriefing. Drainage tubes, that could work to move some of their men closer to the Hive should they need to. Yet the Captain was right, this could easily be a trap. An easy entry set to look empty to lure them in.

“It’s definitely big enough for us to move through?” she asked, looking at the map and trying to discern where the tubes would come out.”The Captain’s right though, it could be a trap. Even if they don’t have anyone stationed there, it could be watched and defended by drones, those flying discs they have.” Verena knew what the answer was, what was to come next, what had to happen. “So, it seems to me like the solution, the only way to be sure either way, is to send a small scouting party up them. See what they find” she said, nodding solemnly. If the others accepted the idea and it was authorised, if it went wrong it could result in men of the 13th losing their lives and alerting the Tau that they knew about the tubes.

Verena turned to look at the Captain as he continued to answer her questions, looking up at him from under the peak of her cap with a slight smile upon her lips. Surely suggesting a course of action would set her in good stead, show that she had some worth.

“So as long as the perimeter is maintained, we should be fine. For now” she spoke mainly to herself, nodding. Although her tutor’s at the Schola had told her about the rumours that the Tau Empire had technology which could render them nigh-invisible, but she did not know how much truth could be put into such things. If they did exist however, they should be wary, otherwise slipping inside their perimeter may prove easy.

Kroot. That is exactly what she didn’t want to hear. She had read some of the accounts of raids and attacks carried out by that particular Xenos. Nasty stuff. She certainly didn’t want to go toe to toe with one. The use of Human Auxiliaries did not surprise her much, there were increasing reports of those in the colonies on the outer rim worlds being swayed by the Greater Good.

She nodded once the Captain had finished speaking, thinking as she took in what he had said.

“Perhaps the Tau are putting all their hope in the diplomats, hoping they can settle this without the need for getting engaged in yet another conflict they are bound to lose.” That’s right, lay it on, keep the morale up.
​