The Number of the ED – A Fell Wind

"Woe to you, Oh Earth and Sea, for the Devil sends the Beast
with wrath, because he knows the time is short...
Let him who hath understanding reckon the number of the Beast
for it is a human number, its number is six hundred and sixty six."
--Book of Revelations Ch. XIII v. 18

 Charleston carefully closed the door as he got home to McKenzie. The psyker had very good hearing, and Charleston could bet he didn't want it damaged further. Battles were noisy, that Charleston knew very well. Furthermore, there was an old lady upstairs to McKenzie's apartment, and she used to bang a broomstick in the floor when they got too noisy, especially when McKenzie played his Iron Maiden records. Charleston liked some of the Iron's music, but he preferred Zeppelin.
 "G'day Ed." McKenzie said as Charleston poked his head into McKenzie's kitchen. "Knew you were coming."
 "You always do. So, why'd ya call?" Charleston asked.
 "I thought we could go down to the pub, take a glass or two. Talk memories."
 Charleston thought on this for a moment and then answered:
 "Okay, but'll Eddie come?"
 "No, he said he was busy with something, didn't state what."
 McKenzie was obviously picking out dishes from the dishwasher. Charleston knew he was the butterfingers concerning kitchenware, so he told McKenzie he would wait for him at the door.

 Fifteen minutes later, the two were sitting in the pub on St. John's Street, having their first beer. Charleston watched as McKenzie fooled yet another man with his coin trick. Charleston smiled to himself. He knew McKenzie never brought money to pay his drinks with, but he always seemed to have it when he had to pay. It was witchery, Charleston knew it, but he also knew that daemons weren’t here, so McKenzie was safe from their malignant influence.
 "So Ed," McKenzie said, turning to him. "What are you thinking about?"
  "You tell me." Charleston replied.
  McKenzie looked puzzled and uttered a quiet "oh" and looked concentrated for a moment. He looked up after a few seconds and turned to Charleston.
  "You're thinking about the Yarricks, right?" McKenzie asked.
  "Righto. More precisely about Seb."
  "Sebastian?" McKenzie said and scratched his chin. He came to think that he should've shaved before he'd gone down to the pub, but he didn't care so much. "He was a hero. Talk about a legend reborn..."
  "I thought Rolf was the legend reborn?" Charleston said, confused.
  "Oh, he was, but he was also half-breed, Sebastian wasn't."
  "I still recall the day Seb graduated from the Commissariat, when he'd earned his Ordo Imperialis and Commissarial Badge. What a day. I still recall it clearly."
  "I still recall his answer to your question if he remembered you."
  Charleston looked shocked and turned to McKenzie.
  "He wasn't more than a baby when he met me the first time, on Armageddon. I thought he wouldn't remember me!"
  "Well he did. To quote: 'Of course I remember you, Charleston! Such a stink as that of your feet, Lieutenant, can only be forgotten with therapy!'. I laugh at it still!"
  Charleston got a sour face as McKenzie laughed out loud at this. Other people in the pub wondered what was happening at the counter. When they saw the two huge men, they decided not to pay too much attention to it. They had after all come on motorcycles, big ones. And the smaller, lankier fella had an orange tattoo on his left temple.
  McKenzie suddenly stopped laughing, a streak of concern going across his face. He looked directly at Charleston, and this made the giant man reel away a bit.
  "Ed, you've never told me what happened when you and Sebastian were left alone to fight both Orks and Berzerkers on Armageddon. Why haven't you?"
  "Because it was the worst war ever. Sebastian had nightmares from that year on, every night! I'd rather not talk about it."
  "Ed, please, I want to know. Either you tell me, or I'll probe you for the information."
  Charleston's eyes turned hard to McKenzie at this.
  "Y'know I hate it when you do so!"
  "Then tell me"
 Charleston sighed and began:
  "It all began about ten, maybe twelve, years before the Siege. My 8th Company had been stationed on Armageddon for roughly a hundred years, or as long as the von Strab's had held the power as Governors of Armageddon. Seb was stationed there on one last mission before his retirement, to reform one of the Armageddon Steel Legions. It all began that fateful day known as the day of the Feast of the Emperor's Ascension..."

<<< Armageddon, 12 years before the Siege and Fall of the Imperium of Mankind, day of the Feast >>>
 Sebastian Yarrick was woken by a wet nose that puffed him in his face. He opened one eye and looked at his dog, Cerberus. Sebastian'd had Cerberus since the day he'd graduated as Commissar. He'd gotten him as a pup, and that was nearly forty five years ago. Cerberus was a wolfhound, native to Callidus and from a race renowned for it longevity.
 Sebastian opened his other eye and sat up in his bed. He stretched out to his full one metre seventy before he scratched his old friend behind his ear.
 "This is the Day, right Cerberus?" Sebastian said as Cerberus tried to lick him as thanks.
 He got up and got dressed in his finest dress uniform. This was a great day for celebrating, and that meant suave clothing. Seb dressed himself in the black highwaisted dress breeches and dress jacket of the Commissariat, tied his Ordo Imperialis around his waist and went into the bathroom to shave and fix his hair somewhat. Sebastian had earned his grandfather's genes concerning his hair, and he had to cut it every six weeks or so. He always cut it in a buzz-cut, much like Charleston's, but a little longer, but his hair, which was steel-grey for the record, seemed to want to grow into a hairstyle that made him look as his grandfather. Sebastian hated it. Unlike his grandfather, Seb had turned an old man just a few years ago. He'd noticed it one morning when his legs didn't want to get out of bed. Charleston had joked about it and said Seb had just gotten into the metal-age, the age when one has gold in the teeth, silver in the hair and lead in the legs. He was right, Sebastian thought, on two points at least. Sebastian had all his teeth left, as a matter of fact, and he was proud of it.
 When he was in the middle of his thoughts and shaving, Cerberus came in, holding his food-bowl in his mouth. Sebastian looked down on him and said he would come in a moment. As Cerberus went out, someone came into his apartment, a place lying high up into the Spire of Infernus Hive.
 "Good morning, Lieutenant Commander!" Sebastian said as he finished the tricky part under the chin.
 "Morning Seb!" Charleston echoed. "I'll feed Cerberus for ya!"
 Sebastian hummed an answer and washed his face clean of the shaving ladder. He was a commissar, with a good monthly income, but an electrical shaver was quite expensive. They weren't STC'd as Chimeras or Leman Russ tanks.
 He went out of the bathroom and picked up the morning mail. For Sebastian, 'morning' was from 9.00 am to 12.00 am. The latter was usually when he got up. Armageddon was in times of peace now. The one letter that caught his eye was an invitation from no one else than the Planetary Governor himself; Herman von Strab. Sebastian hated the man for the simple fact that he was incompetent. His father, Luthor, had been much more intelligent. So had his brothers, but they were all dead. But, one couldn't deny an invitation from the Planetary Governor. Sebastian sighed as he thought of what he was going to miss by being stuck on a gala-dinner. He would miss going with Charleston to that Cathayan restaurant, he would miss the hours before the yearly meteorite rain, which always happened on the same time, every year. He would miss a bar fight or two...
 "Ed," Sebastian called as he walked into the kitchen, just in time to see Charleston drop a plate. It fell to the floor and went to a hundred pieces with a crash.
 "Sorry." Charleston said meekly.
 "Don't worry. What I wanted to say was that we're invited on a gala-dinner tonight."
 "At who's?" Charleston asked as he picked up the larger chunks of what once was a dish.
 "At von Strab's..." Sebastian didn't get any further.
 "No way! I know how he talks about me! He hates us Marines!" Charleston was so upset he almost dropped a new plate.
 "Ed, look, it's for this evening only, and I believe he knows of the meteorites, so we won't miss it!"
 "I don't care, he can go to Helsreach!" Charleston was very angry, at least of what Sebastian could tell.
 "It's pronounced 'Hell's reach" Ed, when will you learn?" Sebastian sighed. He went out in the entry room and pulled on his jackboots. He'd polished them shiny the night before, and was very proud of their looks. After that, Sebastian pulled on his leather gloves and put his commissar's cap on his head, back brim first. He turned to Charleston who was approaching him as he took down his greatcoat from its hook.
 "One night only, Ed." Sebastian repeated.
 "Oh, okay, but it's his fault if he asks insulting questions."
 "I'll be the judge of that." Sebastian replied and patted his thigh to call Cerberus to him. "Now, let's go find you a dress suit. Won't fit if you came in power armour, would it?"

<<< Later that evening >>>
 "I feel stupid." Charleston said as he twisted a bit in his brand-new dress suit. "I look like a penguin!"
 "Get used to the tails Ed." Sebastian replied as they walked into the great hallway of the Infernus Opera. Sebastian had been here before, but he was just as awed this time as last time by the huge marble walls. It seemed everything was carved from one enormous rock. The galleries and boxes in the main hall could be transformed, so to speak, into a space capable to field the tables that were laid out for nearly one thousand guests. To finish it all off, a huge chandelier hung from the roof, shaped like the Imperial Eagle. Sebastian estimated it weighed somewhere around a tonne.
 As the two walked through the entry hall and entered the main hall, a voice snapped Sebastian from his thoughts:
 "Excuse me Mr...Yarrick, is it? You must leave your 'pet' here." the receptionist said with a gesture towards Cerberus. Sebastian had forgotten all about him.
 "Of course." Sebastian replied. "But be careful, he bites people he doesn't like."
 Sebastian smiled towards the now nervous receptionist and patted the man on his shoulder before he went on.
 Charleston looked nervously around. He was definitely not used to wear a dress suit instead of a suit of powered armour. He seemed to be looking for something.  'Probably the exit' Sebastian thought to himself.
 "Ed, calm down. This isn't so bad and in merely an hour we'll be watching the meteorites, as we usually do." he tried. It didn't seem to work.
 "I feel so out of place. Look at me! Look at them! I'm two and a half metres high and nearly all muscle, but they're thin and aristocratic!"
 The commissar did not take notice so much of Charleston's comment on how they looked, he got more attached to the cats in the ladies' arms.
"Gyrinxes!" Sebastian spat. "I have to leave my dog outside, but they can bring in their Gyrinxes! Well ain't that the worst! Cerberus has higher intelligence than those felines! At least he's less malignant."
 "Has this something to do with the Gyrinx that scratched you bad when you were three years old?" Charleston said and scratched his chin. "Of course it has Ed!" Seb replied. "And the worst is that Herman adores them, we're not equal on one..."
 Charleston gave Sebastian a hard elbow as to warn that someone was approaching them. That someone happened to be Herman von Strab. Of course carrying his own Gyrinx, the chalk-white Sela. It had been in the von Strab family for many years, longer than Sebastian had been around and it had been that Gyrinx which scratched him. There was no love lost between Sebastian and Sela. None at all.
 "Good evening gentlemen." von Strab said in his most pleasurable tone. Sebastian thought it sounded so fake he could be sick. Charleston felt the same. Herman von Strab was a man in his thirties, his head shaved bald and wearing a monocle over his left eye. He was around one metre ninety and quite powerfully built.
 "Good evening, governor." Sebastian managed to get out, his eyes fixed on Sela. The Gyrinx purred softly, but it kept a steady eye on the old commissar.    Charleston muttered forth an " 'Evening." and then decided it was time to visit the punch bowl.
 "Good," von Strab began. "Now that the Marine is gone, I can talk with you Yarrick, one-on-one."
 "Of course." Sebastian replied and in a sweeping chesture grabbed a champagne glass from a passing waiter's silver plate. von Strab was just startled over how swiftly the old man moved. He'd read about Sebastian's grandfather, the famous, and now legendary, Commissar-General Rolf 'The Wolf' Yarrick. von Strab had, how much he even hated to admit it, the Yarrick family to thank that his family now was in control of Armageddon. It could have been the other way around, Herman knew it.
 "What is it about?" Sebastian asked after a moment's silence.
 "As you know, you've been my tactical advisor the last ten years, but as you're going to retire, I'm wondering, who will replace you?"
 Sebastian was taken aback by the question. He hadn't told Charleston yet that he had thought on retiring, but somehow, von Strab had managed to find out.
 "I don't know," Sebastian replied while playing with the thought of what he would to do to the man that had told von Strab he was going to retire, when he found him. "You'll have to ask Commissar Holt about that. He's in command of the Commissariat of Armageddon."
 With that, Sebastian left von Strab to his thoughts. It was rude to leave a planetary governor just like that, but a commissar served the Emperor first and no-one second. Most people with sense knew this.
 Sebastian tapped Charleston on his arm as he joined him. Charleston spun round and then looked down to get into eye contact with the old man.
 "Ed, there's something I have to tell you." Sebastian said, his voice sounding troubled.
 "What?" Charleston simply replied and handed Sebastian what looked like cheese and shrimp on a stick. Gourmet food wasn't in Seb's taste, but this was the day of the Feast, wasn't it?
 "I'm going to retire."
 Charleston nearly dropped the very expensive Cathayan mica glass in his hand. The glasses were made of the sand on the Cathayan seafloor, which was a good 10 miles below surface level and gave the glass a reddish-purple colour.
 "You must be kidding!" Charleston yelped.
 "Ed, I'm no Space Marine, I'm an old man now. My body has begun telling me it's had enough!" Sebastian played a bit with the stick from the snack between his left-hand fingers, placed it in between the thumb and the middle finger and broke it with the index finger. He looked up at Charleston.
 "It's life, my friend, heroes come, and heroes fall. I'm seventy years old, and I would appreciate to celebrate my seventy first birthday."
 "Sebastian Yarrick, is it really you?" a voice called from behind them.
 Sebastian and Charleston spun round and a smile broke Seb's face.
 "Ishmael Grisham! What are you doing here?" Sebastian said as he hugged his old friend in a brotherly embrace.
 "I live here nowadays. Retired ten years ago. Had no idea you were here. How long have you been here Seb?" Ishmael asked. Ishmael was just like Sebastian seventy years old, but his hair was chalk-white. He was just as slimly built as Seb, but nearly ten centimetres taller.
 "For thirty years at least." Sebastian said as the threesome walked away from the crowd of people. "I was stationed here after twenty years of service between different regiments. I've grown quite fond of Armageddon, despite its name!"
 The other two laughed heartily at this. Sebastian had, despite his childhood, a great sense of humour. Charleston believed it was because his childhood, Sebastian had that humour.
 "So, Ishmael, where have you been? We lost communication shortly after graduation." Sebastian asked after a while.
 "I was stationed in the Border Planets systems. There had been reports of one planet being heavily infested with Orks."
 "Orks?" Charleston asked, "What are those?"
 "They're big and green, Ed, extremely savage, could tell you more, but it would take ages." Sebastian suddenly remembered he hadn't introduced Charleston to Ishmael. How rude of him!
 "I forgot, Ishmael, let me introduce you to Lieutenant Commander Edmund Charleston, 8th Company Death Angels. Ed, let me introduce you to ex-commissar Ishmael "IG" Grisham."
 "IG?" Charleston asked as he shook Ishmael's hand.
 "I hated my name when I was young, IG are my initials."
 "So, Ishmael, what happened there?" Sebastian queried.
 "The Orks put up some damn hard resistance. We fought for years. Thought that every new day was going to be my last. Nearly was ten years ago. We'd been fighting for two years on Gideon when it happened." Ishmael made a pause to rub his back as the war-wound that had made him retire reminded itself again.    "The Orks fought like if possessed, and they were quite well organized. Haven't seen them so organized, with the exception of..."
"Gazgrim Nekksnappa, I know." Sebastian interrupted. "I made a study of them. I know their language and culture quite well, thank you Ishmael."
 "Right," Ishmael said as he continued. "These were even more organized, like the Hive Fleets. The force I was in was attacked from behind, and what I saw before I was knocked into a coma, was the most fekking large Ork I've ever seen, must have been at least 3 and a half to four metres tall. Without the mega armour it was wearing."
 "Mega armour?" Charleston interrupted.
 "Almost like Imperial Tactical Dreadnought armour, but less efficient, and more cumbersome." Sebastian explained.
 "Yeah, but this Ork was the size of a Dreadnought walker! He didn't even bother to use the power claw of his on me. He merely smacked me in the back, breaking it. That's what made me retire and come to Armageddon. I was in coma for four weeks. The medics said it was risk for me breaking it again, so I retired. Believe me, they said it was only a few centimetres from making me lame from chest and down."
 "Not good." Sebastian mumbled as he knocked back the last of his champagne.
 Ishmael "hmm"ed an answer and started fidgeting with his left hand. Sebastian saw immediately that something was wrong with his friend.
 "IG, what is it?" he asked. Sebastian grabbed his friend in his left arm, but snapped his hand back. With force, Sebastian rolled up Ishmael's sleeve. What he saw was the titanium skeleton of a bionic arm. He looked shocked at Ishmael.
 "What...how...?" Sebastian stuttered forth.
 "The giant Ork left me for dead, trampled my arm." was Ishmael's simple answer. He looked with sorrow eyes on Sebastian. Sebastian answered with the same look. They both had told each other to try to avoid bionic implants. Ishmael had broken that promise.
 "I didn't notice because you were wearing gloves." Sebastian said after a long moment's silence.
 "Something bugs me about that Ork Warlord though." Ishmael said as he pulled down his sleeve again. "On his claw was a glyph I've never seen before. Never. If I didn't know better, I would say he had his own, personal glyph."
 "Impossible." Sebastian protested. None of them were paying attention to Charleston now. He just watched the conversation. "All Ork Warlords and Warbosses create their names from existing glyphs! There has been no record of personal glyphs before."
 "Well, "expert"?" Ishmael said a bit irritated. "I still remember it clearly, I can draw it up for you. Then you tell me what it is!"
 "Fine!" Sebastian said and crossed his arms over his chest. He and Ishmael often had conversations like this, but they were the best of friends.
 Ishmael pulled out a pad and a pen from a pocket and drew down the Ork glyph.
 "I'm writing my biography, if you wonder Seb." Ishmael said as he put the finishing touches to the glyph. "That's why I always wear a pen and pad nowadays."  He handed the pad to Sebastian, who studied it intently for a couple of minutes.
 "Never seen it before, but the iron gob and the horns give him away for being a mighty Warlord, but as for the one-eyed skull, I don't know." Sebastian said as he looked up from the pad.
 "Half the Ork's cranium seemed to be made of metal, of what I saw the split second before he hit me." Ishmael added. "Maybe that explains the one-eyed skull."
 Charleston took a look at the glyph. He remembered something with it. He'd seen it before, but where?
 "I've seen it before, on a crippled Space Hulk. We thought it was Genestealer infected, but it seemed as if used by something else and then abandoned." he said as he turned to the two elderly men.
 "How long ago was that, Ed?" Sebastian asked concerned.
 "Couple of months ago maybe, can't remember clearly." Charleston said as he scratched his chin in thought. "But it was in an abandoned star system, far from any planet, so I don't know what happened to them."
 "What did you do then?" Ishmael asked.
 "Reported it to the Magos Xenos, and it was identified as Space Hulk 6-6-5." Charleston replied.
 "6-6-5?" Ishmael repeated silently. "That was the hulk that left Gideon, the planet that they'd invaded. It just disappeared!"
 "And Ed found it." Sebastian said as he thought of something. Something wasn't right here. Throwing an eye on his watch, he saw it was approaching mid-night.
 "Yoinks!" he exclaimed as he saw the time. "We'd better get outside, Armageddon soon passes through the Belt."
 Ishmael and Sebastian went outside, followed closely by Charleston. Although in a Hive, they were so far up that the night-sky was clearly visible. There wasn't a cloud on the star-strewn sky and Charleston inhaled the air as if it was the real. Armageddon's atmosphere was since long destroyed by all the industry, but the filter in the Upper Levels still kept the cool in the outside air but wasted the toxins. He looked towards the east and saw the pyre rising from the Diablo Mountains. Beyond the Diablo Mountains lay Hades Hive, on the other side of the Euminedes River.
 It wouldn't have been visible at ground level, but here, ten miles up in the air; one saw the black silhouette of the Hive where Sebastian had been raised. Charleston remembered the day he'd visited Rolf and his dead son's wife. Sebastian was cute, Charleston had thought. He'd born clear Yarrickian signs, like the blueish hair and the green eyes. Not to mention the slim build. But the accent from Callidus was lost as he was much with neighbours on Armageddon. He still had his grandfather's way of exclaiming things, but he lacked the accent. Charleston had thought it had sounded silly in the beginning, but now he liked it. Sebastian always had something to throw against possible verbal opponents. Anything ranging from an insult to a mere sarcasm. Sebastian had many times ended in trouble in the Schola Progenium because of his gift of the gab. At least that was what McKenzie had told him.
 Charleston joined Sebastian who now was alone. Ishmael had gone to talk with some of the Armageddon nobles. He got along much better than Sebastian, a much more political commissar than Sebastian. Seb was more the lead-by-example type of commissar, Charleston knew so. He and Sebastian were standing by a marble rail, wonderfully sculptured by the best sculptor that Armageddon had to offer. Their eyes were focused at the horizon to the south. Suddenly, a blue-white streak crossed the sky, the Belt Passing had begun.
 In the minutes that followed, all eyes were focused on the night-sky, as meteorite after meteorite crashed and burned in Armageddon's atmosphere. Some were of the larger kind and would probably hit the ground somewhere, most likely in the wasteland. Suddenly, Sebastian pointed towards something that seemed like, not a meteorite, but an asteroid.
 "Check out the size of that thing!" the old man gasped.
 Charleston saw the big rock as it came streaking towards Infernus Hive. It passed a mere kilometre above the highest spine, the roar of it's burning hulk almost deafening. Charleston guessed it'd been at least a few kilometres long and half as wide. But something with the huge rock troubled him. He wasn't alone on that point. He felt as Sebastian tugged his arm, like a small child calling an adult's attention. That was what Sebastian looked like in comparison with Charleston. A small child.
 "Ed, don't you think it's odd that thing hasn't been pulled in by Armageddon's gravity pool earlier?" Sebastian asked.
 "You too eh?" Charleston said and looked down on the small man.
 Something fell down before their noses and tinged as it landed on the marble floor. Sebastian, with his keen eyesight, saw where it landed and picked it up. He got a concerned look as he examined the little piece of metal. It looked like a cruel and flat hook. Sebastian tucked it into the pocket of his breeches and turned to Charleston.
 "Let's go inside. It's chilly and I don't want to catch a cold. Besides, I believe the dinner itself will begin soon." Sebastian told the Space Marine. He then turned and called over to Ishmael that they were going inside. Ishmael answered with a gesture that said they could go in before him, he'd join them sooner or later.
 "I think I'll go visit the punch-bowl again, before dinner." Charleston said with a smile.
 "I thought Marines weren't allowed to drink on duty?" Sebastian said with a shrewd look on his face.
 "McKenzie once told me a Marine body could take more than ten times as much alcohol as a normal human body. I intend to find out if that's true."
 "I see." Sebastian said and quickly added, "It's made from the Volcanus Hive Blanche Wine, right?"
 "Yeah, mixed with Volrathian Vodka and Callidussian Retango fruit juice." Charleston answered with a big smile and rushed off.
 As Sebastian was left alone, he shook his head silently to himself. Charleston was the perfect soldier, if it had not been for his somewhat cliffhanger like tactics. And his slow-to-get ways. But in the end, Charleston, IG and Cerberus were the best friends Sebastian ever had.
 "Well, if it ain't the reckless old man?" a voice suddenly said from behind. Sebastian knew the voice.
 "You still blame me for that thing, Hans Grauberger. They were up against bad odds." Sebastian said, as he turned on the two metres tall merchant noble.  Grauberger was built like an ox, and had good contacts with noble houses as well as Underhive Gangsters. Sebastian had gotten on the way wrong side with Grauberger just a few months ago, when Charleston was gone on his mission in the abandoned star system.
 "It was six of my finest bodyguards against you, a decrepit old man, and his pooch." Grauberger said and grabbed Sebastian by his collar.
 "Watch the uniform, I'll use it when reviewing the troops next week." Sebastian said, trying to calm his rage against Grauberger. How Sebastian hated to be called decrepit old man. He wasn't one.
 "One of them is still in coma! And by the way, we're a bit off from the rest of the crowd, so you're free to scream. I want the others to hear what happens to my enemies." Grauberger spat and came close to Seb's lean face with his own pasty features. Sebastian winced slightly. It was clear Grauberger was drunk, very drunk, judging from his breath. It frankly reeked of the stench of liquor.
 "Can you allow an old man a last wish and will?" Sebastian said and raised his left hand.
 "Of course!"
 Without a word, Sebastian put his left hand index finger and thumb at the corners of his mouth and let fly a high pitched wolf-whistle. It was so high-pitched, that it was barely discernable for human ears. Grauberger winced at the high-pitched whine, but didn't let go of Sebastian's collar.
 "What the fekk was that good for?!" Grauberger growled at the old commissar.
 Sebastian simply smiled a wolf's grin back. "You'll see." he said. Grauberger raised his meaty fist for the blow.
 In the lobby, Cerberus awoke from his nap and twitched his ears, searching for the source of the Call. His master was the only human that knew the Call that was all Cerberus knew. And when the Call came, the master was in trouble. Leaping up and across the counter of the reception in a blur, he ran towards the source of the Call. Cerberus long claws left horrible scratches in the marble floors and several Gyrinxes were sent leaping out of their owners arms as the Callidus wolf-hound ran past with the speed of a rocket. Sadly though, it passed by von Strab and Sela leapt out of her master's arms and ran and hid underneath a table, not to come out in hours.
 Grauberger realized the commotion too late and turned only to see a grey-red-black ball of fur and claws come flying towards him. Instinctively letting go of Sebastian, Grauberger raised his arms to protect himself from Cerberus powerful jaws and tearing claws. With a scream issuing from his lips, Grauberger fell backwards to the ground, eighty full kilos of wolfhound landing on top of him. Noticing no biting, Grauberger lowered his guard and looked straight at the snarling face of Cerberus, standing astride over the big mans body, a low growl coming from Cerberus throat.
 "Enough, Cerberus. He's learned his lesson." Sebastian said and Cerberus obeyed immediately.
 "YARRICK!!" a hoarse voice screamed from behind. Sebastian didn't want to turn, but he did it anyways. He looked at the planetary governor, who was red-faced with rage. 'Oh, God-Emperor, why did I do that?' Sebastian thought darkly to himself.
 "Get yourself and your mangy mutt OUTTA HERE!! NOW!!" von Strab screamed at Sebastian.
 "Yes, milord governor." Sebastian managed after restraining himself from shooting the man. He always had a laspistol with himself, but remembered he'd left it home, because of the party. 'Damn,' Seb thought. A summary execution had been fine now, and Sebastian even had the prosecution laid up in his mind: "Insulting of Imperial Commissar, punishable with what the commissar see fit" according to Commissarial Edict 827f, Sebastian recited to himself in his mind. Now he just hoped that Holt had seen it all, or at least heard it.
 Turning his back towards the angry mob made up of Gyrinx owners, Sebastian called his dog to his side and walked out. As he came to the reception, the receptionist had the guts to heave out: "Leaving early, Mr. Yarrick?"
 Sebastian'd had about enough. He gave the snooty receptionist a stare that could have cut through adamantium and growled:
 "That's Commissar Yarrick to you, you little whippersnapper! Now hand me my greatcoat and cap so I can leave this place!"
 The startled receptionist handed the obviously enraged old man his belongings and watched him leave with his dog.
 As Sebastian got to the door, a big hand on his shoulder tried to stop him.
"There's no use in trying to make me stay Ed." Sebastian said and sighed heavily. "I've been ordered out of here, by the governor himself."
"It's not that Seb." Charleston replied. "I just don't want you to end up in trouble. It's a dark night out there, and you're an old man."
"I can manage on my own." the old man said and shrugged of Charleston's grip. "I've got Cerberus to protect me."
As Seb walked out the main doors of Infernus Hive Opera House, he turned to Charleston, his eyes shadowed by the peak of his cap, giving him a sinister look.
"Two more things. Make sure Ishmael gets home safely. He's not the type that can take much liquor. And stop calling me old man." Sebastian said and walked out.
"Sure, I will." Charleston replied, a slight sadness in his voice.
As Sebastian walked down the boulevard, he turned towards the opera house and sighed. Why did things always go so wrong for him? As he kept walking home, Sebastian kept pondering on this. Why did no one listen to him? His grandfather hadn't that day when Sebastian had turned 15 and had wanted the Chaos Hound hunting delayed for a day. Luthor von Strab hadn't when Sebastian had warned him of the many fatalities around the Cathayan fugu-fish ten years ago. Fugu. Cathay.
"I know Cerberus, let's spend this Feast Day at Cheng Fu's Cathayan restaurant, as we usually do. At least you're allowed there, right, old friend?"
Cerberus gave to a bark as an approvement. Sebastian Yarrick laughed to himself all the way to Cheng Fu's, together with Cerberus's joyful barks.

<<< Tertius Recreation Island, south of Phoenix Island, three days later >>>
"If you can stop doing those lobs!" Sebastian said as he threw himself after the LazerBall. He missed it with a hairs width and the ball bounced into the forest behind the LazerBall court.
"Can't help it Seb." Ishmael said and made a twitching gesture with his right wrist. "'S all in the wrist!"
"Whatever!" Sebastian replied and chased after the ball into the woods. Holt had allowed him a few days off after von Strab's explosion on him, and Holt had also said Seb could do some usefulness while away. Usefulness had apparently been; 'Keep Charleston of me back!'.
Sebastian was soon joined in his searching by Charleston, but the big Marine seemed to be pondering on something else than finding a tiny LazerBall. They'd walked a good bit into the woods, when Charleston finally broke the silence.
"What did you do after you left?" was all he said.
"I went to Cheng Fu's. After that I went home. Did you get Ishmael home safely, Ed?" Sebastian replied.
"Yup, and I can say he was more than tipsy by three o'clock. That's when I got him to bed."
Sebastian made a sign to Charleston to keep quiet. He edged soundlessly further into the forest. Something had caught Seb's attention, and with pure curiosity as driving force, Charleston followed. They walked for a few minutes until they got to the other edge of the forest. It was the Tertius golf course. Said to be one of the finest golf courses in the Imperium. It was the 18th hole as far as Sebastian could tell. He could see the tee from where he was, and wasn't it...?
(Author's Note: On the contrary to popular belief, golf isn't native to Earth. Instead, it's a sport which mysteriously appears in all higher standing civilisations and races as soon as it reaches a certain technology standard and the office people and bosses have too little to do on their holidays.)
"Ain't we going a bit far away now, Seb?" Charleston asked.
"Shhh..." Sebastian hissed at the Space Marine. "I believe that's von Strab up there."
Sebastian pointed at the man at the tee point. He wasn't alone. He had a servitor caddie with him, and somebody else.
Charleston picked up the magnoculars he had around his neck and took a look in them. He was wearing them because he had to supervise his soldiers later in the day. That was where he was going when he had run into Seb and Ishmael at least. Now he seemed to have forgotten it all.
"That's von Strab alright." Charleston said and handed the magnoculars to Sebastian so he could have a look. "I don't know about the other two though."
"Excluding the servitor, they're three." Sebastian said quietly. "von Strab, Grauberger and..."
Sebastian hesitated a bit and touched the zoom runes on the magnoculars.
"By holy Saint Armagon!" Seb breathed. "I can't believe it. What is Holt doing here?"
Sebastian crept closer to the edge of the woods.
"Careful Seb." Charleston warned. "I've heard von Strab's got a good drive..."
"Get real Ed!" Sebastian snapped him off. "What are the odds on von Strab getting a ball on the green from there?"
The -thwock!- sound from Herman's club reached Sebastian's ears to late and as he turned, the white ball hitting him hard on his brow. Seb was thrown backwards onto the ground and the ball disappeared into the forest. Charleston ran after the ball and was soon back with it. He pulled Seb a good fifty metres into the forest and hunched over him.
"You okay?" Charleston whispered. "How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Hmmmm, eight!?" Sebastian exclaimed, his vision blurred by the whack on his head.
Charleston looked at the two fingers he'd been holding up and smiled back at Seb. "Good enough! Get up."
"Now that's a head-in-one!" Sebastian said as he rubbed his forehead where one heck of a lump was forming.
"How's the head?" Charleston asked as he watched the threesome and the servitor get closer. Holt and Grauberger weren't as good golfers as von Strab on miles distances.
"It smarts a bit." Sebastian said and tried a half-hearted smile. He looked at the closing men.

"I see my ball, and Commissar Holt's ball, but I can't see milord von Strab's ball though." Grauberger said and gestured towards his blue ball and Holt's red.
"Maybe it flew into the woods?" Holt suggested. Holt was a tall man, lean but slightly built. His face had a scar across his right cheek, cut there by a Genestealer claw many years ago. His hair was closely cropped and blond, his eyes blue. Coming into his early forties, he'd been stationed on Armageddon for quite a while, nearly ten years.
Charleston took careful aim and, muttering the Litany of Secure Aim, threw the little white golf-ball onto the green. It stopped little more than half a metre from the hole.
"Talk about wonder screw!" von Strab exclaimed. "I believe the Emperor must be smiling on me today!"
"By all the saints, so must be the case, milord!" Holt said as von Strab received the putter from the servitor.
"But to get back to business," the governor answered after the sinking the ball into the cup. "What do you think of these reports we've received?"
Holt realized it was him Herman was talking to.
"Don't you mean lack thereof? Maybe it's just Jungle animals. After all, it's only two squads of men."
"Of course, you are probably right James." von Strab said as he and Holt watched Grauberger put.
Holt got ready for his put but as he swung the club, von Strab cut in.
"By the way, who will be Yarrick's replacement when he retires?"
This remark made Holt miss the put and he looked up sharp at the planetary governor.
"What? Yarrick's going to retire? He hasn't told me anything about something as that? He looked tired last time he came down to the Commissariat, so I gave him a few days off from the reforming mission he has." Holt finally put the ball in the cup and the servitor got a blank look on its face before it told the three men their scores. von Strab had won, but Holt and Grauberger had been close behind though.
"Though he said this was going to be his last mission, but I thought he meant on Armageddon." Holt said, looking puzzled. "Who told you this?"
'That's something I also want to know.' Sebastian thought to himself in the bushes, trying to block out the throbbing pain in his forehead.
"None of real importance." von Strab said and wavered it off. "But till his mission is complete, he remains my tactical advisor. Maybe I should have a talk with him when he comes back from his holidays?"
"I would also like to have a talk with that old man." Grauberger said and looked disgruntled. "You know what he did with my bodyguards!"
"You were breaking Imperial Law, he was acting correctly according to the Book of Imperial Law and Punishment!" Holt snapped. He wasn't going to stand here hearing a comrade-in-arm's name being dragged in the dirt. "Drug dealing is breaking paragraph 284/js in volume 5 of Imperial Laws."
"I never got to deal them, he destroyed your only evidence!" Grauberger answered back.
"That's is not the matter right now!"
"Gentlemen," Herman eased them. "Let's not begin arguing over something that happened months ago shall we?"
"Milord Governor, should I remind you that the cases on the murders of your father and brothers still aren't closed?" Holt said and shot von Strab a devastating glance. von Strab looked taken aback by this. Holt looked dangerous even without his smart, black uniform, and Herman had the feeling that Holt could kill both him and Grauberger with the golf clubs if necessary, and dismiss it as 'Acting for the Imperium's Good'.
"Let's not talk more about this, shall we?" von Strab said as the three left, the servitor caddie crawling after them on it's mechanical spider's legs.

"Did you hear that Ed?" Sebastian said as he turned to face Charleston as the others disappeared out of sight.
"Yuh, our thoughts have been verified." Charleston answered.
"The plot thickens Ed. I have always thought that Herman killed his own family to seize the power as Governor of Armageddon. Only thing that troubles me is why Holt doesn't stop both Grauberger's and von Strab's actions?"
"Though that about the missing squads worries me." the lieutenant commander said as he and Sebastian walked back to Ishmael. Seb picked up the LazerBall from the ground as he found it. "I have a Neophyte squad which hasn't reported back, and it's almost a week since it set out from base."
"I believe we'll just have to wait and see what happens Ed." Sebastian said as they entered the LazerBall court, where a very curious Ishmael waited.
"Where the fekk have you two been? It can't take that long to find a cursed ball, can it?" Ishmael suddenly saw the big red lump on Seb's forehead.
"What happened with you Seb?"
"Long story, but as I probably can't play any more today, I'll tell you as we get back to the hotel." Sebastian replied and picked up his gear.
"Gee, what for?" Ishmael asked and picked up his own gear.
"I must get back to Infernus Commissariat, we may have a situation brewing."
And as the threesome walked back to the hotel, Sebastian explained everything he'd heard to Ishmael. Charleston didn't pay too much attention. He'd heard it before. He smiled to himself over the two old men. Sebastian and Ishmael had been friends since even before the Schola Progenium. They had much in common, mostly their occupation, or in IG's case, ex-occupation. And the fact that they both refused to grow up. That was why they played LazerBall. It was mostly a game for 15 to 18 year olds with good fitness. Seb and IG had made themselves a reputation as LazerBallers back in the Schola Progenium. They were as good now as back then, but the poor youngsters that had been on the neighbouring courts had looked dumbstruck on the two old men playing as LazerBall pros, not believing what they saw.
Charleston was pulled form his thoughts by Sebastian's voice.
"Huh, what Seb?" Charleston said as he came back to reality.
"I said, do you think this is it Ed? McKenzie has made more horrible predictions than ever, and a big Warp Storm has cut off Armageddon from the rest of the Imperium. Or is it just Jungle animals?"
"Let's hope on Jungle animals." Charleston replied.
"Told you." Ishmael said from his side. "You're so negative Sebastian."

<<< Upper hab levels of Infernus Hive, 3 weeks after the Days of the Feast >>>
"Still don't understand why you harvest your own grapes, Seb." Charleston asked as he let Sebastian stand on his shoulders to cut down the uppermost grapes.
"Because I like the Callidussian better than those "native" to Armageddon, Ed. Stretch yourself a bit, I can't really reach that one." Seb replied.
Charleston grunted a bit as he straightened himself. Seb had a balcony to his apartment, or whatever one could call the "balcony". There he had for several years now farmed his own grapes and made his own wine from. With a little help from the Adeptus Mechanicus he'd turned the climate on the large balcony into that of the equatorial regions of Callidus. Sebastian had built some frames out of wood on which the grapevines could grow on, and they certainly had. The ones that stretched the highest were nearly out of Sebastians reach, even when standing on Charleston's shoulders. The one topmost were at the edge of the next balcony on the apartment above.
"Ed, I said straighten," Sebastian muttered to himself. "Ten-hut!"
Hearing the order Charleston made a perfect attention and grew one more inch. That was all Sebastian needed to grab hold of the edge and stretch after the last bunch of grapes, but as he did so, he looked over the edge of the upper balcony floor.
"Aiiie! Look!" a female voice screamed. Sebastian, sweaty and red-faced having a firm grip around the edge, looked shocked at the young woman that was sitting on a sun chair, not wearing more than a bikini. She had obviously been sunbathing, this being the Season of Fire after all, but she hadn't been alone. A tall, muscular man rose from another sun chair and looked curiously at Sebastian. Then a grin split his face and he walked over to Sebastian and knelt down.
"Well, well, well. If it ain't the old man? Had no idea you looked on girls for fun. But I believe it's common in your age."
"Now, Grauberger, this is not what it looks like..." Sebastian tried to explain.
"Oh no Yarrick, you ain't getting away that easy." the big merchant growled.
"At ease?" Charleston asked from below. "Okeydokey commissar!"
With that, Charleston let rest and walked away. Sebastian, still holding a firm grip around the edge, fell down half metre before his arm muscles finally got it that they should start working. He fumbled with his feet to find the pole that stuck out of the wall on his left. This part of Infernus Hive was built to liken the houses of old on Armageddon, before the Hives became a reality and industry turned the lush green fields and forests to Ash Wastes. Sebastian's left foot found the pole and he got his foot over it.
Down on the ground, Charleston paid no attention to what was happening. He was busy taking in the baskets full of grapes, when Seb's doorbell rang. Charleston went and opened it and saw the planetary governor standing on the outside, without Arbiter escort or anything.
"Is Yarrick here?" he asked, before he saw Cerberus coming up behind Charleston. The wolfhound was not enraptured of seeing the governor. He smelled Gyrinx. A low growl came from the wolf's throat.
"Get that dog away from me, Lieutenant Commander." Herman said and swallowed. He was aware of how dangerous Cerberus was, the quarter of Chaos-hound making him twice as dangerous and totally fearless.

"Now Grauberger, make no hasty decisions!" Sebastian squealed, falling very out of character with himself.
"Keep off my back Yarrick! And especially my dames!" Grauberger said and shoved off Sebastian from the edge. Sebastian landed on the pole, with a leg on each side of it. His face contorted into a wile grimace of pain and agony as he glared up on Grauberger. The merchant just gave him a pleased smile as reply and disappeared from vision. Sebastian let his head fall against the wall as he exhaled for the first time since the pole had smashed into his groin. He tried to hold back the tears of pain, but it was no use. They ran down his face and as he relaxed his grip with his hand around the pole somewhat, he spun round 180 degrees and became hanging upside-down, the pain easing somewhat. Sebastian poked his head through the green roof of the grape plants and looked around. Charleston was nowhere to be seen, but he heard voices and they were coming closer. It was Charleston and von Strab, which he could make out. Instinctively, he ducked back up and hung in a very uncomfortable sort of way, but he was supposed to be reviewing the troops, not harvest grapes. His head disappeared through the foliage just as von Strab and Charleston entered the balcony.
"I'm sorry 'bout Cerberus, governor. I believe you smell Gyrinx and Cerberus does not like Gyrinxes." Charleston chuckled.
"Right," von Strab answered, not the slightest bemused. "So, where's the old man?"
"I don't know really." Charleston said and looked around, confused. "He was here a minute ago."
"Maybe he got other things to do." von Strab tried. "He's a busy man, after all."
"But he didn't pass the door of what I know. Maybe he's hiding somewhere?"
"Never mind," von Strab said and waved off Charleston's question. "Just tell him when you see him that I want to talk to him. I'll be in the tactical room in the Upper Spire."
With that von Strab left, but as he got to the door, he stopped dead. Seb took a brief moment to relax his back and bent down beneath the foliage and looked at Charleston, who looked back with a confused and shocked expression, and then at von Strab. Seb ducked back up just as Herman turned round to look back at where Seb had been a split second earlier. von Strab walked up to where Seb had hung.
"What is hanging here then?" Herman said bemused and looked upwards. "A bunch of grapes?" He plucked down a grape and ate it, smiling at its taste.
"Had no idea Yarrick was growing his own." von Strab said as he left.
"He likes having a hobby, and he doesn't like the Armageddon grapes so much. You know, the ones grown in Volcanus, Tempestora and Tartarus."
"I see. Equatorial Callidussian, right?" von Strab asked standing in the doorway.
"Yup. By the way, I'll tell him governor." Charleston said and closed the door. Turning on the magnetic locks, Charleston went out on the balcony again. Cerberus where already sitting underneath where Sebastian was hanging, the old man's head poking through the foliage again.
"You okay Seb?" Charleston asked worriedly as he helped the commissar down.
"I'm fine, except my groin hurts a fekking lot." Sebastian replied and walked inside. "I think I'll have to freeze the grapes, no matter how little I like it. And as soon as the pain abates, I'll go see what the governor wants."
"Hope you'll wear something else than a singlet and your breeches." Charleston said as he carried the last basket of grapes inside.

<<< Infernus Hive Spire, Tactical Room, 2 hours later >>>
Sebastian walked in a quick march as he approached the tactical room. It had been a long time since he'd been used as tactical advisor, but by the Emperor, he had knowledge of tactics. He'd been fed with it from a tender age because of his grandfather. When the other kids had played Loyalists and Traitors, Sebastian had learned how to fight and outwit a real Berzerker opponent, tactical wise and in close combat. He'd read about Imperial Law and Creed when the other had read comic books. Then Sebastian hadn't liked it, but now he was glad he had as he had a great advantage now. His many years of personal experience also paid off.
As he got to the entry doors, the two fully armoured Arbiters saluted him sharply and Sebastian answered it. With a hiss the entry doors opened, a sound Sebastian thought sounded too much as the hiss of the Ash Waste Cobras. He shrugged of the feeling of foreboding he got when he thought of the creatures. Horrible summed up the sand cobras quite well. He took off his peaked commissar's cap, went into attention and saluted the assembled officers.
"At ease Commissar Yarrick," von Strab said as he looked up from the map of Armageddon Prime that was projected on the glass of the table the men were assembled around. As Sebastian relaxed, he found much to his chagrin that no chair was empty. Seemed they didn't want him to stay long then. This was not a good sign.
Sebastian looked around at the assembled men. There was of course von Strab, but also General Hurley of the 1st Steel Legion, Colonel Archer of the 15th Steel Legion, Lord General Terhune of the Planetary Defence Force (PDF for short), Lord Inquisitor Yudka (who made Seb unintentionally shrug), Princeps Kurtiz Mannheim, Princeps Prime of the Iron Skulls Titan Legion, and Commissar Holt.
Hurley, Archer and Mannheim were temporarily stationed here, that Sebastian knew, so this had to be severe.
"Commissar Yarrick, may I ask you something?" Herman began. Addressing him with rank wasn't von Strab's way, so this was bad, Seb knew.
"Go ahead, milord."
"You know that three weeks ago, Armageddon was 'hit' by an asteroid the size not seen in centuries, millennia’s even. Hasn't it bothered you that it never crashed?"
"Indeed it has." Sebastian replied, feeling the tiny shard of metal inside his greatcoat pocket. He'd put it there when he was at Cheng Fu's and completely forgotten it since. The same went for the paper with the glyph on that Ishmael had handed him.
"Right, because the answer's simple. It was a Space Hulk, and it has landed."
The silence after von Strab's words was deafening. Sebastian felt for the first time surprised in twenty years.
"Maybe it's fate that a warp-storm of immense size has started right now, disabling any help from the rest of the Imperium reaching Armageddon, but on the other hand we won't need it, as I'm fully aware that we can manage on our own." Herman said and smiled.
Sebastian couldn't take it; he had to put in his word.
"Permission to speak freely, governor?"
"Of course Yarrick."
"I think we should at least send out something to find out what we're facing..."
"We already know what we're facing, commissar!" the governor snapped him off. "This morning Volcanus Hive fell to an allied force of Berzerkers and and an Orkish Horde under the joined command of Lord Kharn and an Ork Warlord named Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka."
Sebastian looked shocked at the governor.
"Is this some sort of joke, milord?" Sebastian queried.
"No, Yarrick, it isn’t," Herman softly replied.
"Then we MUST inform the Imperium of our, hrm, situation. We cannot fight such a war alone! We need immediate assistance from the Adeptus Astartes!"
"I told you the warp-storm makes all inter-stellar travel impossible! Besides, we can fight this battle alone! We have got one and a half company of Space Marines already stationed here! We even have a Titan Legion at our disposal!" von Strab shouted. Seb was too well aware of the governor's short fuse. And glory-hunger and incompetence.
"It's barely ONE Company!" Sebastian shouted with a gesture. "The 8th is still drawing Neophytes!"
"Okay, have it your way, Yarrick. I'll listen to you." von Strab said and calmed down, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
"Good. We can fix it without help from the Imperium, but then you'll have to do exactly as I say. First and foremongst is Kharn's Berzerkers. Never fight a Berzerker on equal terms. He's too good a tactician for that. If you're not careful, he'll outflank you and outmanoeuvre you like that!"
Sebastian snapped his fingers to emphasize his meaning.
"Go on, commissar" von Strab said, steepling his fingers.
"Secondly, the Orks. They're mean and green. That's how far most of your knowledge stretches on orks. More so, they're tough as heck and they're quite capable of surviving in nearly any environment. The ash wastes of Armageddon poses no threat to them. Possibly the sand cobras, but nothing else will. I've never heard of Warlord Ghazghkull Thraka before, but as he's warlord he's undoubtly very powerful."
"Your advise Yarrick?"
"With the aid of the Iron Skulls and 8th company of the Death Angels knock them out with an enormous military force in one decisive hammer blow."
"Thank you." von Strab said and smiled. "Dismissed."
Sebastian got the shocked look again.
"B-but, you said that...the foe..." he stuttered forth, completely taken aback by the order.
"You're my tactical ADVISOR," Herman and looked forgiving. "That doesn't mean I have to listen to you. Besides, we can do this without any help, so don't even think the thought of sending out a distress signal."
Sebastian stuttered forth something unhearable and involuntarily reached for his holstered laspistol.
"I'd strongly recommend not doing so, Yarrick. The exit's that way!" and with a gesture von Strab showed were the door was.
Against his own will, Sebastian left the Tactical Room, ignoring the salutes of the Arbiters. Once again he'd been incapable of doing his duty. The governor had after all broken several Imperial Laws, Seb was sure. In his mind, Sebastian kicked himself for being such a weakling. His grandfather would have shot the brains out of von Strab without blinking. But then again, his grandfather had been the military commander of Armageddon, not von Strab. It was horrifying for Sebastian to realize he would never become as great a commissar as his grandfather.
When Sebastian got home, he made certain Charleston wasn't there and locked his door securely. After that, he called Cerberus to his knee and as he hugged the big wolfhound, he started weeping tears of shame.

Princeps Mannheim didn’t really listened to von Strab after Yarrick left, neither did Holt. Both had been worried about the old man. In their ears, Seb's 'advise' had sounded like a battle-plan especially made for this. Mannheim woke from his daydream when his name was mentioned.
"Princeps, if the orks and Berzerkers get through the jungle, which I doubt, do you think you can stop them?" Herman asked.
"Of course, with support. But shouldn't we do as Yarrick said?" Mannheim asked worriedly.
"Maybe, but what does he know?" von Strab said with a shrug. The governor went back to explaining his battle plan to the other officers.
"A fekking lot, it appears." Mannheim thought to himself.
"Mannheim," von Strab broke Mannheim's thoughts once again. "I want you to move north and engage the enemy."
"Of course. With who?" the princeps asked.
"Beg your pardon?" von Strab said with a confused look. "With your Legion of course."
"Governor, don't say your thinking on sending me up there alone, without infantry support?"
"What do you think, princeps?" Herman said dryly.
Mannheim saw in von Strab's eyes that the man was serious. This was madness. No Titan Legion could hold on it's own against an entire enemy force without infantry support.
"Maybe we should listen to Yarrick." Mannheim said and looked worried.
"Look here Kurtiz," von Strab said, an undertone of annoyance in his voice. "On this planet I'm in charge now, not the Yarrick family. It's been nearly a hundred years since Commissar General Rolf Yarrick gave my family command of this planet. You do as I say or you can got to Helsreach!"
"Yes milord." Mannheim said as he realized the insanity that lurked inside von Strab and his orders. "I'll go get ready."
In his mind, Mannheim thought on how to tell his wife and children he'd never see them again.