Tormon eyed his greenest captain with a tinge of perfectly masked surprise. It was clear the man had not spent a long time wearing his rank. His reply was.... flowery and contained more unnecessary tidbits than relevant ones to the current war council. And that knowledge helped better phrase his reply to that individual. Tormon reminded himself that Upper level briefings were probably unknown to Veniktor until recently. [color=yellow]“Your enthusiasm is commendable and I am certain your men will perform admirably under your command captain. But I suggest to all of but don't start drawing the battle lines just yet.”[/color] The polite commanding officer's way of saying 'Listen to the bloody briefing first.' and/or 'let me decide how to field our forces, thank you very much.' Tormon trusted the signal wasn't too subtle to pick up. Veniktor wasn't out of line, just a little over zealous, and Tormon loathed to outright quash such enthusiasm. In a less formal setting it might have gone over more favourably. As for the forgemaster, well... that was a different problem altogether. Venkitor meant well and Tormon wasn't actually displeased with him, Just nudging him towards the proper protocol. But this techmarine was old enough, and experienced enough to know better. Each slight during his minor spiel was deliberately aimed at Tormon. From the half spoken truths to the omission of his due title and honourees. He would require a much more blunt response than Venkitor. Not here and now, while his peers were gathered around him. It would be humiliating to be thrashed like an unruly school boy in such a setting. But if the forgemaster wasn't careful than such a disciplinary action might be the least of his worries. First though, there was the matter of his 'suggestion.' He was surprised such a suggestion would come from a techmarines mouth of all places. He more than anyone should know that the mechanicus would have no interest in helping that world and thus would not expend its resources to doing so. Plus the mere suggestion of succeeding the battleground to anyone was an insult in and of itself. [color=yellow]"The adeptus mechanicus were not beseech-ed for aid, we were.”[/color] fiddling with the controls some more. [color=yellow]“Besides the nearest forge world is at least six weeks away and the skitarii likely will not be able to help as effectively as ourselves.”[/color] Tormon Suspected the reason such an odd suggestion was made to begin with. The forgemaster likely found this campaign as beneath him. He craved something more glorious and song worthy. That wasn't really Tormon's problem. He would serve or be replaced by one who could. [color=yellow]“We go where the Emperor needs us most. And we never shy from our duty wherever it might take us.”[/color] He knew this was his biggest challenge as chapter master. And would likely continue to be for decades. His foot needed to be put down. Camaraderie was one thing, disrespect was another. No one in this room should ever doubt that he was in command, both of their lives and ultimate fates. It was his word and his will they obeyed. Not the other way around. Some of them would (and clearly did) think him young and therefor easily pushed or prodded. They would learn the hardest lessons in humility. [color=yellow]“The Imperial guard foothold on this world is weak will likely fall within a week if they do not receive aid. The nearest legion of skitarii is six, maybe eight weeks away in the nearest sector. They could not hope to arrive in time.”[/color] Letting that grim certainty sink in. If they didn't help conquer this world. Then no one else would. [color=yellow]“Even the nearest Militarum reinforcements are tied up in other pacification actions and wont be available in time. However we are available, and I will not allow any world stand outside the Emperor's domain nor will I let the lives of his soldiers be wasted.” Right then, that bit was done and it was time to move onto the important bit. Be hoped nothing else needed to be said. And any further attempts to impose their own views on his deployment choice was quashed for the time being. [color=yellow]“Unfortunately we cannot simply bombard our enemy from orbit, nor can we hit them from the skies or fight them on our terms.”[/color] His voice returning to a flat, business like tone as the time for tactical planning was upon them. [color=yellow]“What little we do know about our enemy is that they do not live above ground. Our augers have determined that below the surface of this world is riddled with caverns and tunnels. They currently span nearly the entire continent where our forces made initial landing.”[/color] A few more subtle taps of the finger brought up a hazy display of said subterranean network. It was obviously incomplete and at certainly seemed that these caverns sent deeper than the imperial augers could detect. [color=yellow]“It is possible these caverns penetrate for miles deeper. Unfortunately we don't know for certain, no scanners can penetrate too deeply because of the sheer density of mineral presence in this planet's crust. And no mapping party sent inside by the imperial guard has ever returned. We do know that these creatures most definitely live, attack from and retreat through these tunnels.”[/color] [color=yellow]“Our first objective is first to reinforce and secure the current Imperial foothold. Then once our lines have been reinforced we are to descend into these tunnels and find a way to wipe these creatures out. And [b]that[/b] brothers”[/color] Slamming his fist into the table hard to emphasize the word 'that'. [color=yellow]“Is where we will explore our options. And [b]that[/b] is where we will succeed.”[/color] Slamming his fist again made the holo map fuzz into static and refocus. [color=yellow]“Captains, instruct your commands to prepare for tight quarters fighting. Bolters and blades will see us through the day. No melta charges or high explosives are to be used in the tunnels until we know they will be used at their most effective. Apothecary”[/color] Turning towards the figure standing in purest white armour. Winding red helix stamped boldly on one shoulder. [color=yellow]“When we arrive on the planet I want you to collect whatever specimens you can. I need to know everything there is to know about these creatures and how to kill them.”[/color] [color=yellow]“Brothers, Make no mistake, these may not be orks or demons. But these creatures will be dangerous. Reports from the Imperial guard reports speak of these creatures achieving great feats of strength and destruction, supposedly standard militarum firearms are all but useless against their hides. Heavier weaponry is the only thing that can put them down for good. Expect a fight, and prepare for it to be bloody. I forsee our devestators being a key asset in the days to come.”[/color] Pushing himself off the table to stand straight and square. Looking each officer in the eyes (or lenses), boring into them for some sense of their current thoughts or stance on this matter. He was more concerned with those who were making the active effort to hide their emotions than those who wore them openly. They were a potentially greater problem, represented by the knowledge that Tormon did not know when or if they might proverbially burst. And act as disrespectful towards him as the forgemaster. [color=yellow]“Brethren. This is the task before us, and in the Emperor's name we will see this world brought into his dominion. We will set a precedent of victory for this chapter for now and the future. And we will burn the xenos who stand in the way of either of those truths.”[/color] For that is what they were in his mind. Victory over the Trogs and this world becoming an imperial one were simple facts. They would happen no matter what. [color=yellow]“We arrive in three days. All tactical data will be made available. Captains, we will speak again after you have reviewed this data, I want to hear your own tactical appraisals of this situation in twenty four hours. Until then you are all dismissed.”[/color] Again he eyed how many of these officers would show him the respect due of his title and offer a salute as he dismissed them.