Loyalty is its own Reward (A Traitor Legion Chapter Master Quest)

Abrasa System, Cassoian Sector, Ultima Segmentum, 770.M41

Chapter Master Guo Saetang of the Blazing Warden takes a deep breath, and smiles in satisfaction as the smell of burning xenos reaches his nose. Before him stretches a veritable ocean of aflame Tyranid bioforms, the men of his rebuilt 3rd Company moving between them and finishing those xenos that were still hiding amidst the charring corpses of their kin. As much as people had rejoiced when Hive Fleet Behemoth had been vanquished by the honorable Ultramarines, those celebrations have been premature. More of the vile creatures have appeared from whatever cold pit of the void these things spawn. The Tyranids they have slain presented several differences from the ones sighted in the Tyrannic War, and a short call with Watch-Commander Affram have confirmed that they hadn´t clashed against a mere splinter of Hive Fleet Behemoth, but a new one that the Ordo Xenos had already named as Hive Fleet Jarrara´k.

Turning aside from his contemplation, he sees his Lo Than make way for the Captain of the 3rd Company, Som-chai Palapol. While he had his doubts initially about raising the comparatively younger marine to the Captaincy, he had proved himself when he had directed his company in pushing back the Tyranid horde long enough for him, his Lo Than, two Terminator Squads from the 1st Company, and two of the Land-Raiders of the Chapter, the Tarsai´s Pride and the Promethean Spirit to engage the Hive-Tyrant.

"Chapter Master." Salutes the Captain, and after all these years it still feels wrong to be referred to as such, Guo never quite shaking off the sensation that Chapter Master Jaturun should be the one to stand in his place. "The Chapter Master of the Mist Shrikes is descending towards our position."

"Thanks for the warning, Captain Palapol." Replies Saetang. They both then wait in silence as a Thunderhawk descends onto the battlefield. As it doesn´t find a place in the plains completely cleared of bodies, the pilot ends up landing on top of a pile of Tyranid corpses, crushing them under the ways of the gunship. As the Mist Shrikes descends from the vehicle, Guo notices how two of the Honor Guards are missing.

"Greetings Chapter Master Saetang." Both Chapter Masters grasp their forearms in a warrior handshake, although Severus has problems getting a firm grip on the Burnt Aegis vambrace. "I see I must congratulate you for your victory."

"The same I could say to you, Severus." Replies Saetang warmly. "We´ve heard of the Campaign in Lezo. A commendable achievement, for such a recently founded chapter. You must be proud of your marines."

Severus smiles at his words. "I certainly am. My brothers have certainly performed as well as I expected of them, better even." Out of the corner of his eye, Saetang sees the Honor Guards freeze up in surprise for an instant, before their backs straightening, flattered and honored by their liege words. Saetang takes note of that, of how a few words can bring the spirit of his brothers up. "But I am afraid I have not come here just to exchange pleasantries, but to ask for your assistance." Continues Severus.

"Name it, and if it is within our ability I´ll see it done." Says immediately Saetang, and instantly kicks himself mentally for agreeing without hearing first what their desires are. He can feel the reproachful gazes of both Palapol and the more veteran of the Lo Than.

If Severus notices them he does not comment on them as he makes his request. "I appreciate that Chapter Master. The Technological prowess of the sons of Vulkan is well known, and so we would ask of you to assist us in building a ring of orbital dockyards around our homeworld."

"With all due respect, Chapter Master." Interjects Som-chai. "We aren't the Mechanicus to commit so much resources to a construction. Shouldn´t you ask your local Forge World to assist you with such an endeavor?"

"Our local Forge Worlds are Smilnay and Milan." States Severus plainly. Som-chai looks at him quizzically, but both Guo and his Lo Than wince in sympathy at that. The feuding Forge Worlds had a reputation, and in his last meeting with the Fabricator-General of Lemnos, the Tech-priests had sternly warned him to stay away from anything that involves one or both of them.

"I see. However, you must understand that building an orbital dock around your planet would require a notable investment from us in time and personnel, especially in Techmarines that we need for the continued rebuilding of our Chapter." He eventually replies. He does wish to help their cousins, but it would be a failure both to his office and to his chapter if he prioritized the well-being of another chapter to his own, and more so with the risks regarding the recovery of his own chapter.

"I understand." Answer Severus evenly. "But I trust you have some ideas on how to tackle the issue?"

Choose one Option:

-[] Slow Building: The Blazing Wardens commit some of their Artificer serfs and one or two Techmarines to the construction of the orbital docks (Takes 4 turns to build the orbital docks, spents Mayor Favor.)

-[] Fast Construction: The Blazing Wardens commit a significant amount of their Techmarines and their Master of the Forge to the construction of the orbital docks (Takes 2 turns to build the orbital docks, spends Mayor Favor and puts you in debt for 1 Mayor Favor.)

-[] Reconsider: You´ll find another way of getting those docks built then. (Orbital docks aren´t built. you keep the Mayor Favor.)

Smilnay System, Aetelian Sector, Ultima Segmentum 769. M41

Once more, you find yourself in the weapons testing area of Smilnay, as the Fabricator-General seems to spend all the time he can here, if he isn´t otherwise occupied with the duties of his station. This time the servitors are setting a Heavy Bolter, and both you and your Honor Guard stand behind a protective panel. Nikola Delta-Null 6 stands beside you, and it is he who speaks first.

"I take it that you´ve decided to cooperate further with us?" Asks the Head of the Smilany Mechanicum as he watches the last checks being performed.

"Indeed, we think it beneficial to enter an agreement with you regarding the commissioning of ground vehicles and aircraft." You reply.

The faceplate of the Tech-Priest turns towards you. "That is an excellent decision, Chapter Master! I can assure you that you've taken the most optimal course of action. Have you determined what manner of vehicles would you like us to produce??

"I do not have an exact number now, but we will provide you in short order with a list of the armor elements we require." You don't have the chance to answer in more detail, as the crew manning the heavy bolter opens fire. Despite being separated by a panel, you can hear the loud sound of both the bolts leaving the barrel and more faint detonations when the shells explode upon reaching their target. You watch with both interest and alarm as the rate of fire of the weapon seems to speed up, achieving rates of fire that you didn´t think the weapon could manage. At least it does so for ten or so seconds, before the bolter fire stops abruptly. One of the Servitors tries to clear out the jam, only for its organic hand to hiss as it burns upon placing it on the bolt. Still it holds the bolt open, allowing a Magos to take a closer look at the internals of the weapon.

"Fabricator-General." Reports the Magos after the inspection. "It appears that while the new modifications can achieve the intended rate of fire within the acceptable accuracy parameters, the new mechanisms warp under the accumulated heat."

"Unacceptable!" Snaps Nikola Delta-Null 6 in response. "Make the appropriate corrections, and ensure that the Machine Spirits of both this weapon and the one you´ll use for the next test!" As the Magos and the Servitors spring into action, the Fabricator-General. "Is there anything else you want to discuss, Chapter Master?"

"I do." You glance back at Spatha momentarily. "I want to task you with the construction of a Dreadnought."

Do they have it? 1d100 (DC 85)=100

You expected enthusiasm at your words, but you certainly did not expect the highest-ranking Tech-Priest of Smilnay to actually giggle. "Oh, wonderful news, we finally can put it to the test!!" He actually grabs you from the shoulders in excitement and starts to shake you, uncaring of how your Honor Guard unsheathe their blades in surprise. "It is the Marine who´s intended for here?! We must begin the procedure immediately!!"

"It is intended for me." Declares Spatha, stepping forward and pointing his power sword downwards.

Nikola Delta-Null 6 drops you and scans your Chapter Champion. You have the impression as he tilts his head that he would be blinking if he was able to. "Uh, interesting. Normally your kind only links with the blessed Machine when they are rendered unable to combat. Well it is good that you seem to be more enlightened than them. Now come!"

He turns around and starts moving away, you and your Honor Guard exchange uneasy glances before following him. You pass through various levels of the Forge World, the Fabricator-General nonstop-speaking in Binaric Chant, seemingly having forgotten that you cannot understand him. Finally he stops at one of the lower levels of the planet´s vaults, after twelve hours of extensive rituals from the Techpriest to ensure that the Machine Spirits of the gates and elevators they use are appeased after centuries of scarce use.

"If all is ends with him presenting us some ancient cooking implement, I vote we take our chances with Milan." Quips Lepidus.

Alesios turns his head towards him. "For the Emperor, Lepidus, keep your mouth still." He rebukes him harshly. "Last thing we need is the Techpriests taking offense to your pitiful attempts at wit."

The Fabricator-General finally opens the vault in question, and what its stored behind the adamantium gates is no cooking implement. Painted in the grey color and hazard stripes of the Iron Warriors, a the chassis of a Contemptor Pattern Dreadnought lays disconnected. Having seen plenty of times the chassis of your old Captain Aristeo back in your time in the VIIIth Legion, you can recognize points where the Dreadnought has been extensively repaired, especially near the legs of the walker.

"A true marvel isn't it?" Aks rethorically Nikola Delta-Null 6, now sounding completely in awe at the ancient war machine. "We found it in the ruins of Manofactorum XUL-825 in M33."

You take your eyes of the old Dreadnought to look at the Fabricator General. "M33? Why didn't you grant the chassis to the Wind Watchers in all that time? Or to the Angel's Crusader after them?"

"We would have been willing to give it to the Angels Crusader, but from our first meeting onwards they showed themselves to be extremely disrespectful and uncooperative." Explains the Fabricator General. "As for the Wind Watchers, they aligned themselves closely with Milan. Something that surely played a part in their eventual downfall."

It takes all of your willpower to stop your eyebrows from reaching the top of your head at that statement. "Are you saying that the reason the Eyes of the Mutator fell to the worship of Chaos was their choice to associate with Milan?"

"While we don't possess undeniable proof of the fact, it is a probable hypothesis. You should keep it in mind when interacting with them." Nikola Delta-Null 6 responds, his synthetic voice expressing absolute sincerity. "Returning to the matter at hand, you can see that your Chapter Champion's combat efficiency would increase by 300% when interred in the sacred bounty of the Ommnissiah."

"With all due respect Fabricator-General, does it work?" Asks Martellus unprompted. For that he receives what you presume is a heated glare from every Tech-priest present, and what is undoubtedly one from yourself and Alesios for running his mouth. To his credit, he realizes quickly of his missteps and corrects it. "While I have complete trust in the skill of the Servants of the Machine God, the Dreadnought shows signs of having received heavy damage, and it is well known that several of the secrets of these ancient models have been lost to history."

The Fabricator-General holding his gaze onto Martellus for a few seconds because before looking away. "While its true that several components are behind our ability to replicate, we are confident that our rigorous study of the Dreadnought has allowed us to replace those parts with perfectly adecuate sustitutions." He then shifts his gaze back to you. "If you hold reservations it is unfortunate, but understandable. We can offer you a Castaferrum-pattern then."

You look back at Spatha, seeing as he's the one who will be interred there for what can be millenia. "What is your choice Claudius?"

Your Chapter Champion looks first at the Contemptor, then back at you. He takes off his helmet and rubs his chin with his augmentic arm for a second in thought. The corner of his lip raises slightly and he makes his Choice.

Choice what model will be Spatha's Dreadnought:

-[]"Well, If I have to spend the rest of my life in a box, might as well be in the better one." Spatha will be interred in a "Restored" Contemptor-Pattern Dreadnought, equipped with a Dreadnought Power Claw and a Grav-Cannon.

-[] "No offence, but I would prefer it if my grave did not explode with me in it." Spatha will be interred in a Castaferrun Parttern Dreadnought. Costs a Minor Favor.
–[] Write-in from the production table what equipment you want in the Dreadnought.

-Vehicle-buying action added.
-Relationship with Smilnay improves to Liked-
-Relationship with Milan decreases to Suspect+

Luctus System, Aetelian Sector, Ultima Segmentum. 769. M41

Gathered around the table where the meetings of Chapter Command take place, Domitian, Cato Utica and Tullius Apollodorus examine with transhuman focus the map placed on the table.

"So this are the possible expansion options we have for the Fortress-Monastery?" Asks Domitian.

"Yes." Replies Utica, an easy smile on his face. "After consulting the appropriate experts, we are glad to report that the structural integrity of the mountain allows for digging deeper into the mountain."

"And upwards?" Inquires the Master of the Keep, only for the Master of the Watch shaking his head.

"Technically possible, but I wouldn't recommend production of war material and habitation areas past the first few levels. The space will be short once we build the first two or three. I would recommend only hangar levels and artillery emplacements past those."

"Acknowledge I will forward your opinion to the Chapter Master." Concludes Domitian. "Do we have the potential paths for expansion drafted and the rotation of the miner crews?"

"Here." Says Cato as he removes a data-slate from the pockets of his robes, after a few minutes scanning it. Domitian does not find anything wrong, but Apollodorus clearly does.

"These work shifts are too short." He complains. "The time required for the shift end and beginning would be far more efficient with longer work shifts."

"Twelve terran hour shifts are completely reasonable, giving the workers time to rest is vital to attaining the best results. Besides, the serfs are our responsability and we must take care of them."

Tullius scoffs at Cato's argument. "Promoting such indolence amidst our serfs is ill-advised. Having the honor of serving our Chapter should be enough for them."

"Enough." Interjects Domitian. "We will follow our Chief Victualer recommendation for now. If it doesn't give us the results we need, we can always change them at a later date."

Apollodorus grumbles between his teeth for a second before he acquiesces. The conversation then shifts to other topics.

-Expansion of the Fortress-Monastery unlocked.

Luctus System, Aetelian Sector, Ultima Segmentum. 772. M41


It has been stated before that repairing a ship without the proper installations is a slow and difficult endeavour, requiring of both patience and plenty of materials. Bringing the hull of the Shrouded Blade back to full functionality raised those requirements in an exponential manner. Part of it was the sheer number of replacements that had to be done. The engines, the gun batteries, the bridge control, and especially the Gellar Field, all of which had to be transported in parts to the ship via Thunderhawk and Stormbirds, then move to their respective emplacements and then assembled. The other main complication was that there was no gravity nor oxygen as the hull floated in Luctus orbits. That mean that all of the artificers had to be equipped with voidsuits, could only work for as long as the air reserves allowed, and with the ships interior open to the void the transports had to remain in place in order to equate the pressure so that they didn't lose teams to explosive decompresure.

Paulus Numerian and Marcus Fretensis, who in the absence of the Master of the Forge and most of the Techmarines have taken the responsibility of directing the ships reconstruction, had hoped that with the return of the Master of the Forge, progress in the repairs could speed up at an appropriate pace.

Their hopes had not been realized. Not only had Karark Zel returned from Lezo with a Land Raider in need of repairs , but the Master of the Forge investigation about the Luctusian Refugees had stalled and as such upon arrival from the Sector Capital, the Nostraman had confined himself in his own private section of the Forge.

Which brings us to this moment, as both the Master of the Marches and the Master of the Arsenal stand in one of the Hangars, watching as one of the Thunderhawks departs filled with materials for the repair team above.

"Our progress is being slower than I would prefer Marcus." Comments Numerian. "We barely have brought the ship to 50% functionality, and we still have to repair the multiple breaches in the hull."

"Do not fret for it, Paulus." It´s Marcus' reply. "Now that we´ve perfected the process, the repairs will pick up speed. We should be able to finish this by the end of next year."

"That is if everything goes according to schedule, which is something I don't place much confidence in." Is Numerian´s reply. "It wouldn't surprise if we suffer setbacks in the coming months."

"Then we just need to take precautions against them." Reassures him Fretensis. "Being concerned about unexpected delays is warranted, but neither we must act as if they were bound to happen."

"But they are bound to happen, Marcus. Especially with the news that we have about the power cable issues that are present in deck 9…"

Paulus words are interrupted by the sudden arrival of Karark Zel unto the hangar, walking hurriedly towards them.

"Are you hale, Master of the Forge?" Asks Fretensis when he reaches them. The ex-Night Lord movements are jittery, his body twitches every few seconds and there are bags under his eyes that speak of little sleep even by the standard of a Space Marine.

"Of course I am!" Exclaims Karark Zel happily. "I've finally managed to make a breakthrough regarding the Refugees! Truly, Ancient Humanity was favored by the Omnissiah, if the wonders I've gleaned were commonplace in their time! Ingenious, all of it is ingenious! Now, I've finally read the reports about the Shrouded Blade repairs that you've sent me in the meantime. You have done well, but now that I have the time I estimate that we can accelerate the current timeframe by…"

"There he is!" Now is Karark Zel who is interrupted by a sudden arrival. This time the ones entering the hangar are Techmarines Siracusa, Ostia and Noricum, who rush towards their superior and firmly, if gently, seize him.

"You need to rest Master." Chides Noricum. "Please do not force us to stand guard in your chambers to ensure that you're sleeping."

"I´ve told you before, while your concern is appreciated, it is completely unwarranted!" Complains Karark Zel. "I can continue working, and the Omnissiah knows that there is much work to be done!"

"That work can continue once you have rested Master." Retorts Ostia "They have been able to carry forth their duties until now, they can keep on doing so for 4 hours."

Karark Zel seems like is about to argue, but ends up conceding. "Fine, I suppose I can take a brief rest, if only to assuage your concerns." The two Techmarines restraining him release him from their grasp, and leave the hangar alongside him. Techmarine Siracusa remains, now facing the curious glances of the two members of Chapter Command.

"Apologies for that Milords, the Master of the Forge, has been laboring without rest in his research, and the amount of stimulants he has taken are approaching a perilous number." Explains the Techmarine. "I will be the one assisting you with the repairs of the Shrouded Blade."

Numerian looks at Fretensis, who merely shrugs his shoulders before bringing the Techmarine up to speed.


When Florent Pascal had been chosen as one of the squires that would be given the chance to become an Angel of Death, he had been ecstatic. Every youth in Braicam knew of the Mist Shrikes, and how they had bravely defended the Royal Family from the ruthless greenskin hordes. He had fantasized plenty of times of fighting alongside them once he had earned his knighthood, but not even in his wildest dreams had he thought that he could become one of them.

Of course, the process to become one had not been what he had imagined. For one, there had been pain. So much pain, as the Apothecaries of the Chapter reforged his body into that of an Angel of Death, with no kind of analgesic as that could interfere with the implantation of the various organs. Another thing that had not been within expectations had been his future companions. While his fellow Braicamese were the same as him, squires coming from a variety of noble families, the Luctusians had been quite an unpleasant surprise. Upjumped commoners, bereft of manners, instinctually given to skulking and hiding and constantly mocking him and his compatriots as "primitive bumpkins". If feuding amongst neophytes hadn´t been strictly prohibited, he would have challenged some of the curs to a duel in order to show them their proper place. The third surprise he had faced was that, after his ascension had been finalized, he had been told to report to the Apothecarion in order to start his training as an Apothecary. This left Pascal with mixed feelings. It undoubtedly was a great honor that he alone of all the aspirants had been selected as a future Apothecary, and the role was an honorable and important one. But being a healer wasn´t the duty he had envisioned for himself, and he had noticed that your possibilities of promotion once you enter one of the more specialized detachments were far more limited.

It was with this in mind that Florent finds himself entering the Apothecarium. His newly enhanced senses catch an overpowering smell of antiseptics and cleaning agents. The room is completely immaculate, filled with both lab and medical equipment, most of which is in use by his future coworkers. One of which turns around from the machinery he´s operating to address him.

"You´re our new member, yes?" He asks, and Pascal is immediately displeased as the chapter´s battle-cant is tinted with that dreadful Luctusian burr. "I´m Sarjanovic, nice to meet you. Now, they´ve probably told you to report immediately to the Chief Apothecary, but I would advise you to wait here for now. Master Valzadai is in the middle of research, and he can react…unpredictably when startled."

"My orders are to report to him immediately, and I shall do so." Replies Pascal as he walks past Sarjanovic and into the Chief Apothecary´s private lab. However once he crosses the doorway, he sees that the room is completely empty. Confused, the braicamese moves to turn around, only to stop once he feels the muzzle of a bolt pistol pressed against the back of his head.

"Do not move or I will splatter your brains on the wall." Speaks who he presumes is Chief Apothecary Valzadai behind him, and the edge in his voice tells Florent that he's completely serious about it. "Who are you?"

"My name is Florent Pascal, Chief Apothecary." Replies Florent immediately. "I was sent here to receive instruction from you."

Far from relaxing, the Chief Apothecary presses the pistol against his head with more strength. "So you´re saying that just as I finally start making progress on investigating the Mist, you come barreling inside my quarters? Isn´t that convenient? You want the research don´t you?! Or to prevent me from investigating further by killing me?! Who sends you?! The Refuges, the Mechanicus, the Inquisition?"

"I don´t know what you´re talking about Chief Apothecary!" Answers Pascal alarmed, seriously considering that he's about to be killed by his own superior. "I was sent here by the Master of Recruits to become an Apothecary! I swear to the God-Emperor that's the truth!"

The pistol finally lowers, allowing Pascal to turn around and look at his superior. "If what you say is really the truth, report to Apothecary Sorano to start your instruction. If you try anything the rest of my students will gun you down, are we clear?" Pascal nods at Valzadai´s question. "Good, I will start giving you lessons once I confirm the veracity of your claims, now get out."

Pascal exists in a hurry, the door of the lab closing behind him. Back in the common room, he's met with a mix of sympathetic and amused expressions from the rest of the Apothecaries.

This is definitely not what Florent Pascual expected when they told him he was to be an Angel of Death.

-133 Nowalijki gained, Apothecary-in-Training Florent Pascual gained, Chaplains-in-Training Fabien Daucourt and Pavel gained.
-Predator Tank, Whirlwind and Thunderhawks repaired.
-Shrouded Blade Restored to functionality.

Luctus System, Aetelian Sector, Ultima Segmentum. 772. M41



The Fortress-Monastery of the Mist Shrikes is a huge place, that is something that everyone who resides there can tell you. And as it happens with all places of sufficient size, it has plenty of little corners and hideouts where days can pass without a single soul setting foot on them, despite the hundreds of serfs that do their utmost to maintain and clean the halls of their Transhuman masters. Some of this forgotten places are occasionally used by the serf´s children to hide from their parents or as secret playgrounds, others as places for couples to have intimate moments, and some were even used by the most unsavory serfs as a place to carry on illegal activities, although those who have done so have not lasted long under the vigilance of the Mist Shrikes, and none had imitated their behavior once they had been made an example.

Myrok Kuthil uses these places to relax, whenever his duties allow him to. In there he sits, and thinks. He muses about his past, both in Nostramo and in the Night Lords. He considers the present, both in regards to himself and to those around him. He ponders about the future, his incoming charges and the challenges the chapter will face, in the field of battle and outside of it. And he wonders about what could have been, about those minute decisions or casual happenings that have shaped him into what he is today.

Normally, he´s able to slink back to his quarters or wherever he´s required to be without being disturbed or even noticed once he finishes his reflexions, but today the once Headsman is unable to do so.

And he receives a clear indication of it.

"SO THIS IS WHERE YOU GO INTO HIDING WHENEVER SOMEONE TRIES TO FIND YOU?!" Already taking note that he cannot use this place in particular anymore, Myrok Kuthil looks at the end of the hallway, where Constantinus Logos is already walking towards him. "I WONDER HOW WILL THE CHAPTER MASTER REWARD ME ONCE I SHARE WITH HIM THIS INFORMATION!"

Kuthil greets him with a shallow nod once he reaches him. "Well met Logos. Do you require something of me?"

The Captain of the 7th Company shakes his head with a laugh. "NOT REALLY, I WAS JUST TAKING A STROLL! BIERNAT, WHO´S HILARIOUS BY THE WAY, RECOMMENDED ME TO DO SO IN ORDER TO GET MY AUGMENTIC HEART USED TO LESS STRENUOUS ACTIVITY! BUT NOW THAT I´VE FOUND YOU, I WOULD APPRECIATE IT IF YOU ACCOMPANIED ME!"

The Master of Recruits doesn´t feel particularly inclined to do so, but Logos is going in the same direction he needs to go now, and it doesn´t hurt to indulge the younger marine. "Lead the way then."

Once they start walking, it is up to the Terran marine to keep the conversation going, a task that he's more than eager to do. "SO, I´VE HEARD THAT THIS BATCH OF NOWALIJKI HAS BEEN ROWDIER THAN THE ONES BEFORE THEM!"

"They have been, but nothing that I couldn´t handle." Myrok doesn´t say this in idle boast. For one, even the proudest Braicamese or most clannish Luctusian couldn´t compare to the vicious sadists or murderous lunatics that had routinely circled through his Terror Squad. Also, the source of the clashes between the Feudal and Death Worlders was easy to discern. The first are noble scions raised to prize honor, bravery and individual glory and renown, the second descendants of survivalists who prioritize survival, pragmatism and communal benefit. Those differences in perspective were the source of the clashes between them. An skilled orator might have been able to use those different mentalities to foster cohesion, make the Luctusians realize that the others were now their brothers and as such part of their group, or impart upon the Braicamese that the honor of a Space Marine is based on how he honors his Chapter and brothers. But he's not a skilled orator, so his solution had been to exhaust the nowalijki so much that they lacked the energy to indulge in petty feuding.

"OF THAT I HAD NO DOUBT!!" Chuckles Constantinus. "BESIDES, I AM CONFIDENT THAT THEIR DIFFERENCES WILL BE PUT TO REST ONCE THEY HAVE FORGED A BOND IN THE BLOOD OF THE ALIEN AND THE HERETIC!!" There is a brief moment of silence after that proclamation, until Logos speaks again. "MIND IF I ASK YOU A QUESTION, ABOUT THE PAST?!"

"You may ask, although Severus could probably answer it more thoroughly." Kuthil replies. He's not eager to talk about Nostramo, or the Night Lords, but he's curious about what the question is.

"YOU SEEM TO HANDLE WELL ALL OF THESE MATTERS OF TRAINING, DID YOU LEARN TO DO SO BACK IN THE… YOUR PREVIOUS POSTING?!" Constantinus almost says Night Lords, but corrects himself as they walk past a group of marines from the 6th Company, who salute them before going their own way.

Myrok lets out a disdainful scoff almost immediately. "That scum wasn´t willing to be trained, not that they were worth doing so." He could leave his response at that, but he feels inclined to say more. "I actually trained hounds for a gang, back in my homeworld."

"REALLY?!" Asks Logos. "UH, DIDN'T REALLY THINK THAT TRAINING DOGS AND MARINES OVERLAPPED MUCH!"

Myrok shakes his head. "It doesn´t, even if there are some commonalities. You teach both to obey orders and to be loyal, but in the end treating men like one would dogs is folly." His expression darkens. "Even if sometimes it is because the man can´t measure up to dogs."

"I see." States Constantinus quietly, before resuming his louder tone. "ANYHOW, SPEAKING OF THE NOWALJKI, NOW WE FINALLY HAVE ENOUGH OF THEM TO RAISE A NEW COMPANY!! ISN´T THAT EXCITING!? HAS THE CHAPTER MASTER TOLD YOU ANYTHING ABOUT WHAT COMPANY WILL HE RAISE?"

Kuthil doesn´t share his enthusiasm. New companies are merely the result of the chapter´s natural growth, and it would be more surprising, and negative, if it didn´t eventually happen "He actually has. He plans to raise…"

Choose which Company to raise:

-[] 4th Company (Battle Company)

-[] 5th Company (Battle Company)

-[] 8th Company (Assault Reserve)

-[] 9th Company (Devastator Reserve)

And chose who shall be it´s Captain.

-[] Lieutenant Sicae: The 1st Lieutenant of 6th Company, Sicae has proven himself to be a stern marine willing to push his men and himself to achieve victory, unflinching at the prospect of his own death. (+Toughness, Dedicated)
-[] Lieutenant Lanista: The second of the 10th Company Lieutenants, Lanista is popular with his marines, and is tactically inclined to fast to constant movement and improvisation (+Fellowship, Optimist.)
-[] Julius Alesios: A member of your Honor Guard, Alesios possesses a remarkable character. His will is unyielding, and his unrelenting determination pushes him farther that his body could possibly allow. (+Willpower, Stubborn)
-[] Mikhail: A Luctusian that proved himself during the recent Lezoan Campaign, while he might lack the experience of the other candidates, his remarkable intelligence is enough to compensate for that fact. (+Intelligence, Focused)

-37 Nowalijki gained.
-Psyker Neophytes Grozdan Borsa and Zivojin gained
-Average Marine Toughness raised to 5.

Q.M Notes: So, this has turned out to be both a very vote heavy turn results and one where the dice gods have given you their favour. Please tell me both what planet you want next for the Guide to the Aetelian Sector, and any spelling mistakes in the update. I´ll try to get turn 8 on schedule, but I can´t promise anything because Nurgle has decided to dropkick me in the guts. Have a nice day/night!