Commissar Yarrick stood at the center of the control room.
A glowing green holoscreen projection showed the precarious lines of defence around Armageddon, a sea of red and green flashing markers. The onslaught of the Ork incursion had been sudden and bloody, the horde smashing against the immovable might of the Imperium. Officers stood silently around him as he assessed the situation, awaiting their orders. Yarrick’s bionic claw rested on a nearby table, his human hand gripping the hilt of his chainsword. The blade had jammed earlier that day, another casualty in the war’s unrelenting grind.
Across the room, the blast doors opened and silence fell as High Marshal Helbrecht entered. Clad in black and gold power armour his presence was overwhelming, as if the Emperors will had taken physical form. His blade, the Sword of the High Marshalls, hung at his side, ready for battle.
‘Commissar Yarrick,’ Helbrecht said strongly, his voice cutting through the quiet like a blade. ‘I have answered your call for aid. The Black Templars are here to deliver Armageddon from the Ork infestation.’
Yarrick straightened, his eyes meeting Helbrecht’s. ‘High Marshal, your assistance is welcome. We’ve been struggling to hold key hive cities and supply lines against Ghazghkull’s forces. With your reinforcements, we can begin to push back.’
Helbrecht raised a gauntleted hand, silencing Yarrick. ‘Struggling?’ he repeated, his voice laden with scorn. ‘Is that what the defenders of Armageddon call it? Struggling?’
Yarrick’s jaw tightened, but he held his tongue. Helbrecht stepped closer to the holo display, surveying the positions of the Imperial forces.
‘These efforts are misguided.’ Helbrecht said, his tone as sharp as his blade. ‘You spread your forces thin, defending weak hives and sacrificing the emperors resources to hold meaningless ground. Ghazghkull must be slain. Cut the head of the beast off, and its body falls. That is how we bring victory to this wretched planet.’
Yarrick’s grip on his chainsword tightened. ‘High Marshal, with respect, Ghazghkull’s death will not end this war. The Orks are not a simple horde to scatter. They are entrenched, organised. Killing Ghazghkull will make them desperate, not defeated.’
Helbrecht turned sharply to face Yarrick. ‘Spoken like a man broken by an enemy he cannot defeat. History will not repeat itself with me here Commissar.’
The room fell silent. Officers exchanged uneasy glances, but Yarrick stood firm. ‘You called for aid, and now I am here.’ Helbrecht continued, stepping closer to Yarrick. ‘You will hold your hives, Commissar. Leave Ghazghkull to me. That is your role in this war. Mine is to end it.’
Helbrecht turned to the officers. ‘Reorganise your forces and prioritise clearing paths for my Crusaders. We deploy at dawn.’
‘As you wish, High Marshal.’ Yarrick said, bowing his head as Helbrecht turned to leave.
But as Helbrecht left, Yarrick’s claw tightened and he could only mutter his feelings. ‘This isn’t over’. He knew the course of the war had shifted and only the Emperor knew if that was a good thing.
Black Tomes 