Chapter 8 Part 3

Chapter 8: The calm before the storm

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Part 3

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1st Kronus Regiment Barracks

Victory Bay

Kronus

Just a few hours after the bloodbath of a battle, Lieutenant Felicia Pickos found herself stuck at her desk, neck-deep in paperwork, which did include reams of incensed and blessed parchment among other things, Mechanicus blessed digital records included. She was one of the lucky ones who made it intact both through the Inquisitor's crazy rescue mission and the following battles. Her Platoon, along with most of Alpha Company, weren't so lucky. They handled the Orks with minimal losses, only for the fucking blue-faces to hammer them hard until they could retreat to a new set of defense lines. Afterward, after the briefest of respites, Command threw the whole Battalion in the grinding fighting against the Eldar within Victory Bay itself and that led to a butchery the likes of which Felicia had thankfully seldom witnessed.

She lost half her Platoon in moments against just a handful of screaming Xeno, whose voices turned soldier's insides to a bloody mess, moved almost faster than the eye could track, and had swords, which cut through proper Carapace Armor as if it wasn't there much less Flack Vests. If it wasn't for a bunch of those mechanical Xenos arriving in the heart of sinister green lighting, Pickos' whole Platoon and the Lieutenant herself would have perished then and there.

That might have been for the best really because just a few minutes later, a Xeno sniper picked off a third of the survivors before someone either killed the damn thing or it had to displace. Felicia dearly hoped it was the former, it would be if there was any justice left in the galaxy!

She forced herself to push those maudlin thoughts aside, took a sip of Amasec – the good stuff kept for special occasions like this one, and returned her attention to the breeding mountain of paperwork. Even with the Platoon combat ineffective for the time being and the few hale survivors under the sharp eyes of Sergeant Graves, the LT's work was never done.

Felicia picked up the next data-slate and swore. It was yet another reminder of how many people she lost lately – a requisition related, about special weapons; a request for her to confirm how many of those her Platoon would need. The answer was obvious – preferably at least as many as she had warm bodies to carry them, however, unless Command in their infinite wisdom, designated her Platoon as either heavy or special weapons unit, then they were set through one of the requisition forms she already filled in and signed.

An excited commotion broke Pickos' train of thought and she narrowed her eyes at the barely open door of her office. Graves should have had everyone under control, any and all issues locked down, tight. The last thing they needed was trouble with a passing irritated Commissar, or worse… Felicia got up, pushing her chair back with an unpleasant scrape on the stone floor, and marched into the barracks proper to see what was the issue and if she had to shut it down, hard.

"Ah, Lieutenant Pickos, just the woman I wanted to speak with!" A jovial, somewhat familiar voice greeted her, revealing itself to be the source of the commotion. It took Felicia's tired brain a few moments to place it and recognize it's source – the scarred, tired-looking man in officer's field dress without insignia was a far cry from the Inquisitorial Agent they had to escort just a few days ago, the Inquisitor now.

"My Lord!" Felicia snapped at attention, barely containing her shock at this uncalled for visit and the unacceptable conduct of her soldiers. This was worse than a Commissar with a chip on his shoulder walking in!

"At ease. I see that the recent engagements haven't been kind for your Platoon. My condolences." Shockingly enough, he sounded genuine.

"Thank you, My Lord!" Pickos hurried to answer.

"Unfortunately, I'm not here to announce that all of the Imperium's enemies turned tail and ran from us."

A couple of troopers snorted at that, and Pickos pointedly didn't glare and thus make more of a scene in front of the Inquisitor, though perhaps she should have. She didn't have experience in dealing with things like these! Give her an enemy to kill, a position to take or defend, she was your woman! On the other hand dealing with the brass, especially this kind, she was frankly out of her depth.

"I don't bite you know?" The Inquisitor, Veil was it, spoke in a tone full of exasperation. "I do have a job for you and your Platoon if you're up to it, Lieutenant." He looked critically over the remaining combat effective troopers.

"We're ready for whatever you require, My Lord!" Pickos answered on reflex.

"That's the spirit. I'm building myself a proper retinue and need the core of a combat and bodyguard element. Are you up to it, Lieutenant?" The Inquisitor stared intently at her and the thought to disagree politely, or otherwise, never even crossed her mind.

"It's an honor to serve, My Lord! We'll do our utmost!"

"That's the spirit!" The Inquisitor happily clapped hands. "Then we have a bit of paperwork to cover to make your transfer into my service official and avoid complications with your chain of command. While we're doing that, you and the Sergeant here can tell me what equipment and replacements you might require. Additional Squad or two, I believe?"

"We'll need two more Squads in order to get the Platoon to a semblance of proper combat shape, sir!" Sergeant Graves chipped in.

"Two Squads it is then. And an additional Stormtrooper section if I can convince the General to let us have a few of those boys and girls…" The Inquisitor thought aloud.

More paperwork? That statement by the Inquisitor eventually caught up with Felicia through the shock of the current crazy situation. What did she just agree to anyway?!

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General Alexander's HQ

Victory Bay

Kronus

With a diminished Platoon on board as the first official part of my retinue I recruited on my own initiative, I found myself in an audience with General Alexander, who was in his office, reading through a detailed report for our losses to date, especially among the heavy equipment.

"You've begun to poach competent personnel in a typical Inquisitorial fashion." He stated, without looking from the data-slate in his hands.

"Having a proper retinue will increase my odds of survival in the battles to come, not to mention with me around it would be easier to explain to Segmentum Command why you and Captain Thule ceased shooting at each other, providing that your conflicting orders weren't a mistake."

The aging man put down the data-slate and looked me in the eyes. His heavy stare contained weariness I hoped I won't be experiencing anytime soon.

"No matter what, there would be elements who would like to sweep this mess under the carpet and forget about it, and us. Punishing us for disobeying what is frankly insane orders, would fit the bill." He admitted quietly. "Or everything might turn all right if we don't get ourselves killed in the days to come. What do you require of me, Inquisitor? This isn't a social call, we both know it."

"First the obvious, I would like to requisition a few of your Stormtroopers, the bodyguard you assigned to my protection to find out Inquisitor Requista if they're available."

"You can have a Stormtrooper Fire-Team, the same one if they're still alive and able to fight. I can't spare anything more right now, Inquisitor, we'll need them all in the fighting to come. And you shouldn't be on point this time." He looked pointedly at my scars.

"I did figure out that charging Orks wasn't been the brightest of ideas. Thank you for your support."

"It's my duty, nothing more, nothing else. At least it would make for a great story and an amusing video to watch in the future. Is there anything else you need, Inquisitor?"

"Mechanized transport for my retinue while we're operating on Kronus and thus within your area of responsibility. If I believed that it was available, I would have requested air transport and a pilot as well, however, I'm aware that our Aeronautica assets took crippling losses."

"They aren't combat effective any longer and we can put just a handful of bombers and fighters in the air. We'll have to rely on integrated AA units and our… allies to deal with any Heretic air power. Because of that, I believe I can authorize you to get a pilot and transport, however, obviously, I can't provide you with fighter escort so going anywhere by given the security situation, would be a great way to commit an expensive suicide. I'll advise against doing so, Inquisitor."

"That's great news. I might see what available pilots we have for future reference if nothing else. I won't take up more of your time, General. Once we've dealt with the heretics, we should talk about the source of your orders, those of Captain Thule's as well."

"I'll see to it that we do." If we are still alive was left tactfully unsaid.