Company of Martyrs (Warhammer 40K Wargame Quest)

"You're quite the bastard, you know? Making me worry like that in the middle of the battle." You lectured before smiling. "But I should've known you wouldn't die just that quickly."

"Should I report your lack of faith to the commissariat?" Corporal Gauin remarked and chuckled. Then he winced and placed a hand gently on his bandaged chest. "Maybe if they offered some painkillers as a reward though."

"I'll see to it that you're given the strongest prescription there is," you promised and stood up from the bedside seat. "That, and a bottle of wine from my collection. I trust that's sufficient hazard pay for the injury."

"Make it two, and you'll see me on station quicker than you know it," swore your lifeguard, who shook his head at your impending insistence. "Major, you're going to need me with Vernau and Croix still in surgery. I'll be there, damn the pain."

You sighed before giving a curt nod. "Very well. I'll sign the discharge papers now." It was a simple matter of stopping at the ward desk and quickly doing the paperwork. You did the one for Fertier too, the doctors looking more than a little relieved that his days of trying to hit on them at an end. Everything was neatly filed away and you departed the tent with a pleased expression. It seems that requisitioning extra medical supplies had definitely made a difference between life and death here.


"Trooper Milix!" The woman instinctively straightened up even more so somehow, despite already being at parade rest. "For courage and bravery demonstrated in the fires of war, you are to be commended...and promoted!"

Your announcement sparked a wave of eager cheers from the assembled members of Fifth Battalion, for good reason. Milix was known to have been a recent replacement as a lifeguard, and the odds of her survival had definitely been stacked against the normally nervous woman. Yet your gut instinct was right when she pulled you out of harm's way in the last battle, that here was a Vaulter who wasn't afraid to bare her teeth when need be. Saving you had definitely earned her some measure of popularity with the others, who were pleased to see you honor the action so.

Thus, it was only appropriate to make her lifeguard appointment more permanent now.

You smartly attached the colorful pin to her lapel and stepped back with a salute. "From henceforth, you are now a Color Sergeant!" It was mostly just a ceremonial role, but still one that would still earn respect among the others. Doubly so whenever the regiment could find the time to host their courts and salons. "Execute your new duties and responsibilities in a manner befitting a daughter of Scintillia. Praise the Emperor and the Imperium. Chosen and Blooded!"

"Chosen and Blooded!" cried Fifth Battalion.

"Chosen and Blooded," whispered Milix.

+2 Command Points (6/4)

Once the ceremony was over, all were dismissed from attention. Almost immediately, Milix found herself the center of a new crowd looking to take a look at her new pin. Her eyes were still slightly spinning from the momentous honor bestowed upon her and you hid a small smile. You definitely expected her to be the talk of regiment for a little bit and hoped that Gauin could coach her properly through whatever noble games they wanted to involved her in. He probably would, once he finished off those bottles of wine you sent.

It was still a good way to give your troops a nice shot of morale to show that heroism was recognized under your command. Too often have you heard tales of other commands in the Astra Militarum downplaying or ignoring incredible deeds, instead just saying it was the expected standard for all regardless of circumstance. Bah, let them handle their troops how they liked, nameless faces that they would forget so quickly when they kicked those below to work harder while greedily hoarding their privilege.

True nobility was recognizing courage so, and granting them the rewards so deserved from whatever you could offer. That would be how you motivated them to fight harder instead. That would be how you would lead Fifth Battalion despite the odds to win again and again. It was something you were confident in, having been schooled and educated so.

Though those lessons did stress that having some heavy armor did help too. Just in case.

"My, my. This is quite a ruckus." A voice suddenly spoke out as if summoned by those very thoughts. You turned to see a figure in cloak studying the gathering, a very distinct red tint to their attire. "To imagine there was such spirit to this unit teetering on the brink. I may have to reevaluate my calculations at this rate, had I not already accounted for it so. Hm, I truly am a genius so," they declared smugly.

With a measured cough, you stepped up to address the newcomer and introduce yourself. "Greetings, techpriest. I am-"

"Oh, no need for such babbling. I know who you are." They turned about and pulled at their hood to reveal themselves- herself. A pale face with white locks, with a glowing red bionic eye that stared straight at you. "Major Starcrest, Fifth Battalion, 99th Scintillia. You do not deviate much from your entry yet," declared the follower of Mars through what sounded like an attached vox unit.

A chill ran down your spine at the glazed and empty look in the remaining organic eye, one that seemed to have no light within. Still, you pushed bravely on. "I've only just taken command recently, so I have not yet had much opportunity to truly settle into my role. But I do so eagerly, nonetheless."

An electronic hum came from the techpriest. "Lofty words do not change the probabilities of success ahead. It only irrationally disguises the odds of failure for you so." Before you allowed that to get under your skin, she leaned forward and the edges of her pale lips twitched upwards as if trying to smile. You realized now that she was talking without moving her mouth, the sound coming straight from a bionic installed in her throat. "But fortunately for you, I do possess the means to tilt the scales so, as a passing acquaintance would have phrased it. And your words do so trigger an illogical emotion of...excitement, I suppose. So name to me what you need."

[ ] A Sydonian Dragoon, equipped with a taser lance and phosphor serpenta (Cost: 74 Requisition)

[ ] A Skorpus Disintegrator, equipped with a belleros energy cannon and other assorted weapons (Cost: 120 Requisition)

[ ] An Onager Dunecrawler, equipped with neutron laser and cognis heavy stubber (Cost: 140 Requisition)

- Small mistake in that your command escort squad actually only has four people in it, not five. So total wounded would've been five, not six. Lost track and fixed it now. Also you somehow got stupidly lucky with those rolls to save most of them, even though two were hospitalized.
- Blame the dice for this erratic showing of what's available. There's a reason why Mechanicus is often paired with another army. These ones here are too, but for reason that you will soon see, I can't make the others available just yet.

-140 Requisition (233 -140 = 93 Requisition)

"Honestly, given our circumstance, I would settle for a big hammer if you have one," you told the techpriest with a sigh. "I don't care whatever the problems is now, we can't exactly be picky with our tools when a tomb world is waking up right beneath our very feet. At this point, anything that can destroy their heaviest vehicles would be greatly appreciated."

The techpriest stared unblinkingly, the light in her optic dimming for a moment. Then she scoffed loudly with a shake of the head. "Such ignorance to assume that this is a tomb world. Oh, believe me, were it one, the Mechanicus would be much more reluctant to spend precious limited resources as is for arguably limited gain. No, the situation isn't quite that hopeless just yet. I suppose a hammer is going to always be useful regardless, so that's what you'll get. Just not the biggest one we have."

You frowned and tried to demand an explanation, but your words were drowned out by the sudden roar of shuttle engines from above. This matched with the gargantuan shadow cast over you and Fifth Battalion caused all to look one and witness something not seen before in their various deployments till now. It was a massive transport craft that dwarfed any you've ever seen, easily at least thrice the size of the Valkyries you've ridden in. It was also painted most vividly and colorfully, with what your noble mind immediately recognized as a coat of arms on the side of the fuselage.

Suddenly your mouth felt very dry upon realizing just what that had to be.

"Oh, there they finally are. About time," complained the techpriest. "Quite behind me, but here within an acceptable timeframe I suppose. Let's go then and welcome the Knightly Host of House Sovanov."


The air in the command tent had shifted drastically with the presence of the new arrivals and their retinues. Even though they were sworn to the Mechanicus as Questor Mechanicus, their House had never forgone the trapping of nobility that their line had clung onto. The atmosphere itself felt a bit stuffier in their presence, their heads held high with the pride and dignity of rulership even on the battlefield. It was the sort of aura that would make the assorted common officers of the Astra Militarum shuffle uncomfortably, not used to dealing with pointless decorum or pomp on the battlefield. That seemed to indeed be the case with the surviving officers of the 59th Moebian and the 407th Steel Legion.

But for the 99th Scintillia, this was precisely the atmosphere that their disgraced nobility thrived in. Perhaps because of this or because they were the last surviving senior command officer now, Lieutenant General Merlyn was the conduit through which the Imperial Knight pilots talked through to understand the situation at hand. The noble bearing of them and their subordinates, you included, made a seemingly acceptable partner for upcoming battle operations, more so than any of the others.

Not that the others would take the lead anyway with their experienced commanders all dead now.

Finally the small talk was broken by the techpriest finishing up her fiddling with the servo skull and letting it hover up from her hands. The command tent's lights dimmed immediately, allowing for the floating construct to display a holo-pict of the planet and relevant other details. Merlyn took the opportunity to step up and clear their throat now, gaining the attention of all in the briefing. "I think we've talked enough about irrelevant matters. It's time we focused our attention to the actual crisis on hand, and what we're going to do about it.

"Before that, we must first thank our stalwart allies of Mars for this unexpected boon to our struggling forces. The expertise of their knowledge and the might of their machines is sure to be of valuable aid in combating this waking menace. Magos Flammel, if you would please describe what you have told me earlier."

The techpriest simply reached up to touch her throat, activating some sort of playback function. "-is not a tomb world. Oh, believe me, I wish it were, think of all the exciting relics to discover and secure!" A heavy sigh echoed through the recording. "But alas, according to pilfered star charts from actual Necron tombs, including those recovered from Silva Tenebris, Otra Prime is nothing more than a fortress outpost for one of their petty dynasties, a pretty disused and forgotten one at that. Why, imagine all the shoddy rust that's been building up-"

The recording stopped there and the commander of the Vaulters gave a light cough. "A very illuminating detail that tells me that we are not faced with the worst case scenario where the planet is already doomed. Rather, I think it means we might have a fighting chance."

"But what would you have us do then?" asked a Stormtrooper officer from the Moebians. "Just go down the fortress and blow it all up? We don't have enough ordinance for that."

"Do you really forget the might of our steeds?" A pilot in heraldry sneered. "We could level whatever paltry holdings they slumber in with but a single pass of our mighty war walkers."

"How are you going to fit down there then?" The wounded Captain Frucht retorted. "I've seen the picts, there's only enough room for a tank but nothing bigger. You won't be able to fit through the entrance!"

There seemed to be a heated argument of barbs and insults about to break out between the Imperial Guard and Imperial Knight forces, only to be nipped quickly by the Lieutenant General's bark. "Settle down! Every moment we dally is another warrior being awoken and readied to commit slaughter on the people of this planet!" They glowered at the shamefaced officers and knights alike. "We cannot afford to be petty and fight ourselves now. Either listen, or start packing for an evacuation that'll still result in a massacre. Which is it then?"

Silence was the only answer given to them in wake of that outburst, but you did raised your hand in another question. They nodded and you spoke your thoughts frankly, pointing out the root of the trouble at hand. "While fighting among ourselves won't achieve anything, the truth of the matter is that we don't have the means to blow up the fortress from within. The energy shield protecting it too means that we won't be able to just bombard it from orbit either. So what is the plan?"

"That," Merlyn began and turned to the motionless techpriest, "is something the Magos promised she could fix. Can you explain?"

"Better than that, I can show you." With a wave of her hand, something was summoned into the command tent. It was a slow moving servitor unit of sorts, like a moving box but with various prayers and seals adorned on it so. Leading it in was...Magos Flammel? You blinked and looked between the one walking and the one standing, eyes slightly wide at the fact they looked nearly one and the same with some minor differences.

The procession came to a halt and the both techpriests spoke as one. Or was it one speaking through both techpriests? "Previous encounters with Necron structures indicate a high likelihood of their power lines converging into a nexus point before being redistributed to the rest of their facilities. Strategic destruction of this nexus has been theorized and observed to efficiently cripple awakening protocols to a crawl." There was a long pause, then one of them looked away innocently while the other made some sort of whistling noise. "Technically, the availability and usage of a blessed explosive capable of such destruction requires the approval of an Archmagos and at least two other peers involved in the assembly. But given the desperation of the situation as well as your incessant bleating, I may have skipped a few steps and made one myself. It wasn't much of a bother anyway, even with the safeguard shielding to prevent defusal after activation!"

It was delivered in such a familiar tone associated with that of an unrepentant quartermaster that some of the Guard officers cracked a smile. The reaction was more subdued among the Imperial Knights, with much eye-rolling at a presumably familiar antic. "And you wonder why the Lector Dogmatis wants to censure you?" One of them muttered.

Mechadendrites waved in their direction. "Only because I once flashed those luddites the Sign of Vokk-!"

"Enough, enough," Merlyn interrupted again, this time with a more put-upon tone than before. They firmly steered the conversation back to the briefing at hand. "The important thing is that we have the means to destroy this power nexus if we find it. Which is the tricky part, as I've been informed that due to this known vulnerability, the Necrons have gone to considerable lengths to disguise it so."

"Long-range scanners are hopeless, meaning that we need people to perform direct power line analysis in the fortress," Flammel somberly announced. "Not to mention I doubt they'll just let the explosive roll in without resistance. It'll have to be a team of experienced and varied individuals-"

"The 59th Moebian volunteers," The Stormtrooper officer from before immediately said with a determined expression. "We're going to blow up that damn fort to give our commander the proper send-off they deserved. Or die trying."

"Do try to avoid that, I'm afraid I'm not willing to go down there to retrieve your bodies for servitorization," the techpriest honesty told. "Your flesh is high quality, but not that much. So maybe a second team to help secure an exit route would be prudent."

"While the 59th infiltrate the fortress, we can help improve the odds by launching a diversionary attack outside," the Lieutenant-General declared. The holo-pict focused and zoomed in on a familiar plains to the survivors from Armageddon. "Energy readings have spiked in the area, matching a concentrated Necron deployment. If that's their gathering point to launch an attack on the rest of the planet, then by hitting it we should be drawing all their attention to the diversion and away from the fortress infiltration team."

"My Lance shall see it done," vowed the most regal looking knight-pilot of them all, patting her chest. "We shall mount the head of their leader by the day's end upon my steed!"

"We've got our own payback to settle with the Necrons," ground out Captain Frucht. "If we can recover our regimental Baneblade too, it'll prove that we're not done yet."

It sounded like everybody was finding a place to be in the upcoming final stage of the fight for Otra Prime. Now it was your turn to figure out where that was for Fifth Battalion.

[ ] Helping secure the exit for the fortress infiltration team, making sure they'd escape alive after setting the explosive.

[ ] Engaging in an open battle alongside the Imperial Knights, creating a big distraction to have the Necrons focus upon you.

- So yeah, there's the reason why I can't actually give you the real heavy armor. Cuz even just an Armiger is a Lord of War, jeez. You could afford it, but it'd eat up so much at this point in time. I guess it could make sense that Questor Mechanicus could have anti-armor vehicle allies though.
- The Sign of Vokk will never not be funny.