~Back in the Chapel~<br/><br/>He dipped his head slightly to the self proclaimed prophet, "No, nothing more, good Sir, Save the best of luck to our endevors. You may marshal away." He had never looked away from the table, gleaning over information on crude carbon copy. No doubt the Imperium Dogs had better to work with, working comms and digital data. But such would be his in time, a simular prospect he felt when gazing upon the slain Astartes Chaos marine, as a good dozen men were needed to lift his armored form. Recycling the armor and implants, most likely. Oh, how he envied to Sorcerors abroad, those aged and venerated masters of warp magic and doom weaving. Tall and powerful within their titan like suits of decorated armor, a sharp contrast to the mockery of faith and craft he put into his patchwork attire...<br/><br/>~In the Array~((Fixed))<br/><br/>"Ma'am, with all due respect." He began, glancing to the other Seargent Veteran, "Our respect personal squads work in tandem, however, I can relay the order to have all available secondary squads under my command to be relocated to the Manufactorum, and hold it. As long as wel hold it, indeed, we control a vehicle and weapons monopoly." Turning his head and nodding to one of his four retinue, who snapped to perfect attention and saluted. The motion crist, and sort, before he exited the room, leaving Vincent, Aerin, and the Sister...<br/><br/>Outside that one room, stood two full platoons of battle hardened, and drill seasoned soldiers, each nearly a hundred soldiers easy, dressed in finely kept armor, and equiped with expertly worked laz rifles. They had not been able to aid in the majority of conflict, because their veteran forces had been kept way up in the highest terraces, protecting a cowardly Governer. A weak willed man who had kept his best and brightest close, and sending the disliked or lesser forces to deal with the uprisings.<br/><br/>This, was what lead to the butcherings beyond the walls of this array, and the loss of a Chapel. Only when the Cannoness herself sumarily executed the fool and declared marshal law did things get back on track. The combat worthy and reliable forces being dispatched back to the main and lower levels of the Hive... Outside the building, in it's small, walled in courtyard, three squadrons of Valkeries, and a regiment of Russ Lamor tanks, in addition to Hellhound tanks filled the small space, being readied, sanctified, and loaded up with ammo, fuil, and troops...<br/><br/>Whether it was too little too late, or just in the nick of time, was yet to be seen...<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>