The other, not abruptly warping psyker went off on a considerable spiel about how the sterotypical approach to war, as per a Death Korp commander would see it, including copious amounts of fortifications, human wave assaults, with emphasis on their own lack of numbers for such an approach, mention of bayonets for breaching the fortifications, so on and so on. Ansgar had half a mind to simply tune the woman out, her sarcasm was ill needed really. But, he'd figured out a very simple way to handle this sort during interactions with other Regiments. Guarded by the eternally impassive, grim skulled mask of the Death Korp Grenadier, Ansgar hid a smirk at her reaction to their tactics. Fearlessness in the face of death was oft mistaken for a suicidal death wish. Atoning for the sins of their ancestors through the blood, sweat, and valor of the present was the duty of all men and women of Krieg, regardless of how they served. But, as she winded down, before the Inquisitor started, he offered a comment to indicate he was taking her completely and utterly serious, with a critical failure to notice the sarcasm laced speech.
"Considering the numerical situation, I would recommend sapping. Why bother breaching a wall when you can merely go under it? At worse, a wall with its foundation mined out isn't a wall at all. Besides, even if we we're to be breaching walls, there is always slightly more effective than chipping away at the foundation with bayonets. Entrenching tools are far better in comparison." Whether the shit eating grin was really under the mask, or could be merely imagined, was irrelevant. His attention turned to the Inquisitor as she began her brief, addressing his question with a more serious tone than the warp power show off of a psyker. That made two that flaunted their curse like a blessing. Her comment on following orders to the letter was easy, if something that might bite her in the ass if she wasn't careful. But she did get a response to her answer, brief and clipped as it was. "Understood ma'am."
No need for empty reassurances or false confidence. The arrival of an Adeptus Sororitas was a welcome thing, as far as the Krieger was concerned, despite the past history between the Sister and the warping Psyker. But what kept his attention was the disparity in Chaos cults working together. Typically, the hedonistic extremists and the stagnant followers of decay rarely got along and played nice. Not nearly as overt as the bloodthirsty ones and scheming sorcerers, but still, they were not fast friends by any stretch of the imagination. As much of a hellish nightmare that Thrasis I had been, experience on both it and Thrasis II had made it amply apparent that, true to its name, Chaos was indeed chaotic. Warbands often turned on each other as quickly as on their enemies for the sake of currying favor, as far as the interrogations had revealed. So, finding disparate elements cooperating was peculiar indeed. And, apparently, he was not the only one thinking along that vein of thought.
The warping psyker offered up a suggestion about removing the head and letting the body die, turning on itself in an accelerated process of self destruction. Taking off the head of a threat was smart, but that assumed two key things. One, there was just one leading body. Two, the targets most culpable were able to, indeed, be readily targeted. When hunting down the corrupt ruling council during the Thrasis campaign, many briefs had emphasized that, indeed, there was not any one single leader that would miraculously end the vicious heresy and corruption running rampant. But, it was hardly his business to worry that much about the plans. After all, the best laid plans often went to shit. So he kept his peace, despite the half of a thought to speak up, instead letting the supposed wiser heads and more powerful figures make their points and counter points. He would make note of the information, taking in as much of the brief and information presented as possible. He had preparation to do, considering they were supposed to at least make the attempt at an investigation before kicking in doors. Or whatever the Inquisition decided to do.
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