The situation room/The place to speak

"Mighty Lord, the colonel of the 8745th is here to speak with you." That was addressed to Vadim Bure Uridesh, overlord-mayor of Urdim's hive towers, currently waiting in a situation room, Second Front, Sabbat World Crusade Headquarters, waiting for his petition to be granted.
"Let him in."
"I will let her in, Lord."
"Her? These foreigners, bah!"
Two pairs of hulking soldiers framed a central figure, their assault rifles at parade rest, the central figure's sword swished with her steps, it was made for someone taller, presumably, although, he'd read somewhere that they were custom-made... He couldn't know she'd inherited her predecessor's on founding day, when he was killed in a freak lightning storm, not knowing she could have asked for a shorter sword. He'd been killed during the pre-speech milling around, so she was the 'founding colonel' of the Montral Fusiliers, and didn't appreciate people, like this jumped-up toad of a civilian, minimizing her role or accomplishments.
Regulations stated the founding colonel was to name or at least inspect nominations for all officers above second lieutenant... He'd leaned on, and ignored this part of the regulations, Michael, then a cadet-commissar, had performed admirably, she still couldn't believe he'd pull it off. It's a massive job to review so many files to staff an entire regiment. She didn't know Michael needed to review every single file in the regiment, as the only commissar assigned to it, the main reason why more seasoned commissars insisted on having a cadet assigned to them, to fob every second lieutenant and private to... It won't be Michael's only act of diligence in these chronicles...
"Lord-Mayor Uridesh, I presume?"
"And you are?"
"By the glory of Terra-East-NorthAm, I am Sophia Van Stoat, Colonel, 8745th Montral Fusilliers, part of 22nd Imperial Division-Terra, for today, I speak for Lord-General Militant Humel in military matters."
"Oh, he's too busy to speak to me? To hear my grievances?"
"The Lord-General Militant is on active operations, I am forbidden by military and civilian law from revealing more."
"Err?"
"Do I need to explain what active operations are?"
"Err, perhaps..." With a sneer in his voice he couldn't entirely banish, but at least, had the good sense to try to hide.
"The Lord-Militant is at the spearhead of a military combat action, accompanied by body guards, such as these with me, although, not on Urdesh, obviously, and taking his own very sword and sidearm at the enemy, that they may be vanquished."
"Why not on Urdesh, surely we are a key word of this sector?"
"Urdesh is critical to our military posture, but is not the only planet attacked or occupied by the great enemy. The Lord-Militant General and his general staff are engaged on another planet, wresting it from the forces of chaos."
"And you're here now?"
"I'm the lowest, least, that could be spared without giving insult, and even I am being held here against my will, against my ability to mobilize the thousand or so troops and even more support personnel that make up my regiment, and form up the sharp edge of our division, a full two thousand five hundred imperium citizen under arms, and most, as our name clearly indicates, from Terra itself!"
"You're mostly from the THRONEWORLD?"
"I was born there, myself, as these bodyguards with me..." She would have given a penny to imagine what he thought their birth and growing up was like... Most people thought Terra-East-NorAm was glamous and exciting, not a hive, quite like this one, not an urban warfare-zone. "I was invited to a situation room, so I could see 'something of interest'?"
"Err, yes. Please come this way." His tone had grown somewhat softer, he'd not admit it willingly, but he could tell she was competent, and the marriage vow-ring on her finger, conspicuous, inclined him to trust her.
"Where are we going?"
"I have asked for a hololith table, my own planetary defense forces were engaged by the enemy, and found matters of interest..."
"Please, show me." Her intensity was terrifying when she said those simple words...
"You're not bringing anyone else?"
"I'll determine if it needs to be seen by higher rank, or by the commissariat for discipline purposes..,"
"Gulp."
"I hear you have a new Commissar-Colonel?"
"I don't, the Van Doos do..."
"Oh, why not?"
"She was the next dorm over, when we were in scholam, I imagine it bothered some people..."
"Gulp."
"My commissar, Michael, to those that know him, is quite the genial man, I'm sure you have nothing to fear, provided you're not wasting his time..." Michael had tried to stop her saying this quite this way... It made him sound like much more of a hardass than he was...
"You're on a first-name basis with him?"
"His sisters dorm mate was the Commissar-Colonel, and both were my dorm-neighbours... I know Cyn, Wanda, Michael and Carmine quite well, thank you."
"Who's Wanda?"
"I am. Tempestus Forever!" The fourth bodyguard, resplendant in black cerumite armor, her shock-maul in evidence, had spoken out of turn, surely... Wait, Tempestus? Was she one of the rare stormtroopers, assigned to the Imperial palace? She had the build...
"Thank you, Officer Wolowicz, I feel much safer with you here..."
"What is she, some kind of ogryn?"
"She was Tempestus, now she is Headquarters company-fifth platoon-2ND Squad "Hurricanes", and an elite part of my forces. When Wanda speaks, those of sense listen." That was a mild exaggeration, she was under censure. She wasn't to speak to any other officer unless strictly required for the performance of either of their duties.
Of course, Sophia knew that, and under the letter of regulations, if anyone chose not to listen to Wanda when she did speak, they'd have to explain why, to the Commissar... Michael was a reasonable man, but he so thouroughly hated legal paperwork, the last time he'd held a board of inquiry was the year of the founding... Anyone who could read body language knew he was fighting the urge to throttle you... Back when he'd been a cadet-commissar, that was... mostly safe. A full commissar? No chance, and there were whispers...
"Who is this Michael, anyways?"
"Michael is the Captain-Commissar assigned to the fusiliers, he's been with us since he was a cadet."
"Oh, so did he choose you?"
"Close enough, if there's an officer of which Michael disapproves of in the Fusiliers, it's because I'm not appraised of it..."
"No discipline problems?"
"Cough." Went Wanda.
"Michael likes those in an especial way, and devotes much attention and effort in reforming and making them understand the error of their ways. I hear he's on the Colonel-Commissar's list now..." Which was true she'd heard that particular rumor, whether or not there was such a list was a different problem... "Not that I'd willingly let him go, he's done wonders for the fusiliers, for years now."
"Cough. The Commissar's the officer's of record, for the regiment, he's the one who signed for everyone's commissions..."
"ALL of them?"
"He joked that if he had to chop our head offs with his sword, he'd rather know our names..."
"I imagine he's quite a specimen of a man..."
"If only I hadn't married..."
"Oh, he's not... I can usually tell when a woman's got her mind set on a man..."
Bastard! She cursed him inwardly. I don't need you to tell so much just from body language. And I didn't need my husband to catch us when we were cheating, and tell his girlfriend, either. "He's out of my reach, anyways, you just watch him with the colonel-commissar..."
"Oh, she's a dish?"
"Younger, of course, and a redhead... Busty, and taller, she's into swimming and running..."
"Oh, lots of younger men love that, I'm liking the head on her shoulders more myself..."
"You going against terran-born and raised? And a rising star among the officio prefectus? I'm not betting on you..."
"Which one of them?"
"Either, my informant has her edging him out on that colonel-commissar list, but only barely... She's back on Terra now..."
"Throne! What's she doing back there?"
"Rebuilding the Van Doos... I'm told six battalions might not be enough..."
"A regiment is standard four isn't it?"
"The Van Doos are heavy mechanized, I hear the new doctrine wants them 2x3."
"Six battalions?"
"Or at least five and a company of heavies... Just like the fusiliers."
"That's gotta do some damage!"
"My little brother and his artillerists, they leave a calling card..."
"Your brother?"
"Both my brothers are in the regiment, one's a warrant, the other's a first lieutenant... Come on, you wanted to show me something?"
"These chaos heavies..."
"Oh, just the thing for my youngest brother..."
"He's an armoured specialist?"
"He's an artillery spotter, for earth-shakers, and when they strike, the earth does move and shake, and twist and shout, baby!"
"Err."
"Nevermind, just show me the data..."
"Here... They were coming up the hills behind the city in this crescent formation..."
"I see them... And then?"
"Our PDF fighters overflew them, bombed them, but inflicted no damage..."
"I have something stronger to prescribe, for this particular ailment. Adjutant?"
"Filling in, Sir."
"This is comms-lieutenant 'Smokey' Levesque, I have HQ company, first platoon, second battery on the line, at headquarters..."
"Aren't we at head quarters?"
"We are, but that means they are listening, and we are in contact with the second battery, and they are set to fire, aren't they, Cyn?"
"Second Battery, HQ Company is ready to answer bells as fine as any Navy Ship, and don't you believe otherwise, Soph. Dacapo's gotten us a firing solution so fine, if anyone misses, I'll have to court martial someone!"
"Well, I wouldn't go quite so far, Cyn, but I'm glad to know you're on the case, we have guests..."
"HQ Company is ready to serve, Sir!"
"You really ought to delegate more, Cyn..."
"Tempestor, Sir! Won't let me!"
"Is she really one of those?"
"Hush, but yes, I recruited not one, but two tempestus, and one an actual tempestor... Because fuck chaos, we need the best of the best if we're going to defend Terra!"
"Eye of the Tempest, we stand by to defend Holy Terra!"
"Eye of the Tempest, swallow me and spit me whole, that I can destroy Terra's enemies."
"Ladies!"
"Enemies of the Imperium! Know that no place is safe!"
"We will bomb you to the last ice age!"
"We will bomb you to oblivion!"
"No place is safe from the Emperor!"
"HQ company, engage target locks, fire at will! Destroy these enemies of the imperium!"
"Heavens above!"
"Target destroyed. Target Destroyed. Target obli-ter-rated!"
"Second Battery, ease into it, I've only got the one..."
"HQ easy, we got them all. Target terminated."
"Err... What was your petition again?"
"To... talk about these tanks... and how to destroy them with minimum damage..."
"I'm afraid that's not possible, your PDF may have endless troops, but I do not. I'd rather not bring any ammonition back to Holy Terra if I can do anything about it though..."
"But the gardens..."
"Feck, when you said minimize damage, I thought you meant civlians... You can rebuild your gardens, perhaps as a monument to the fury and spite of wars unsought."

Type

Room, Conference / Meeting Room