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The colonel was a little shorter than van Droi。 He filled his uniform well — muscular — fit to
fight； and van Droi found himself nursing a hunch that Stromm had once been Kasrkin。 That seemed
to fit； but he wasn’t about to ask。 None of his business。 Instead； he gave a sharp salute and received
one back。
Formalities over； the colonel’s face immediately broke into a wide grin。
“You know； van Droi； I’d shake your hand if my right arm wasn’t in pieces；” he said； glancing
down at the limb in question。 It was cradled in a white sling stained with dust。 “Bloody orks。
Damned good to see you and your boys come out of the desert like that。 Like Saint Ignatius riding
into Persipe。 I thought I was dreaming。”
Van Droi grinned back。 “You won’t find any saints among my lot； sir； but I’ll bet we were as
glad to find you as you were to be found。 Five days without a trace of anyone； and we only came
across you by sheer luck。”
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“Luck or the Emperor’s hand；” said Stromm。 Gesturing up at the wrecked ship； he continued； “A
proper mess； this。 The cogboys should have warned us it would be so rough coming down。 I know
they mentioned the storms； but they didn’t say anything about them knocking our ships out of the
sky。 And why the hell weren’t we told about vox…range limitations？ I’d love some bloody answers。”
“I wish I had some for you； sir。 Hundreds of drop…ships launched。 Where the others ended up is
anyone’s guess； but some of them must have touched down safely at Hadron。 If we could just see
the damned stars clearly for one night； we might be able to navigate our way there。”
Stromm nodded gravely； and then gestured for van Droi to walk with him。 Together； they moved
off towards a large tent that was doubling as a temporary command centre。 Stromm’s adjutant；
Lieutenant Kassel； was inside。 When the colonel and van Droi entered； he turned and saluted。
“Good to meet you； lieutenant；” said van Droi after a brief introduction。 The two men； equal in
rank； shook hands while Stromm walked over to a munitions crate and sat down。
“Damned heroes； those tankers。 Eh； Kassel？”
“Heroes； sir；” answered Kassel with a smile。 He produced two glasses of water and set them
down on a large crate that was doubling as a table。
“That’s the next big problem；” said Stromm； looking down at the glasses before glancing up at
van Droi。 “How are you fixed for water； lieutenant？”
Van Droi frowned。 “Not good； colonel。 Not good at all。 Fuel is another thing we’ll have to worry
about soon。 Food； not so much。 I’ve had my lads on half rations since the crash。 But we’ll be dead
men before long if we don’t get water and fuel。”
Stromm nodded。 “You’ve done a hell of a job keeping your boys alive and on the move。 Throne
knows； if it weren’t for you； my men would be dead。 I’d be dead。 So； I don’t want you to think of
me as pulling rank—”
“But you want to fold us into your unit；” said van Droi； finishing the thought。 He had anticipated
this。 It made sense。
“Just for the time being； and for the sake of having a clear command structure more than
anything else。”
“No complaints here。 Tanks and infantry work a lot better together than they do apart。”
“My thoughts exactly。 I’m not a tyrant； van Droi。 I’ll consult you at every turn。 You’ll be kept in
the loop。”
“You have a plan； sir？”
“It’s not much of one； but it’s clear that staying here is out of the question。 If Army Group
Command hasn’t found us by now； odds are they aren’t going to。 It’s high time we moved on。 The
day we came down； I sent a number of scouting parties out。 Most never returned； but one of the
recon squads that did make it back reported seeing rocky uplands about two hundred clicks
eastwards。 The orks started hitting us before we could follow up on it； but I’m sure we’ll have a
better chance of establishing vox…contact with someone if we can get to higher ground。 Thoughts？”
“It could be the feet of the Ishawar Mountains； sir； which would suggest that we came down
much further to the south…east than I originally estimated。 If it is the Ishawar range； following the
foothills north…east should take us within a few days’ travel of Balkar。 Sooner or later； if Operation
Thunderstorm is still rolling； the rest of Exolon will deploy near there。 The Fortress of Arrogance
was lost in the north…east Hadar region。 So yes； sir。 I’d say that’s about the best plan we’ve got。”
“Knew you’d see it my way；” said Stromm。 “Let’s talk about numbers。 What exactly are you
fielding？”
“Nine tanks； all Leman Russ variants； all crewed； plus four Heracles halftracks and eight trucks。
Five of those are packed with ammunition and supplies。 Most of our personnel are crammed into the
halftracks。”
“How many personnel？” asked Stromm。
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“One hundred and twenty…nine； sir。 Forty of those are tank crew。 The rest are reserve crews and
battlefield support。 Half a dozen are wounded men； two of which are critical。”
Stromm turned to Kassel and said； “There go our worries about transportation then； Hans。”
Kassel nodded。
“Sir？” said van Droi。
Stromm sat forward and lifted one of the glasses from the top of the crate in front of him。 “We
have a few Chimeras； mostly machines from the Kasrkin Armoured Fist squads； and a couple of
halftracks and trucks。 Seventy per cent of our vehicles were wrecked in the crash。” Stromm looked
down at the water in his glass。 “It was one of the factors in my decision to stay put； that and our
wounded。”
“Even if we had the transports；” said Kassel； “it’s not much good moving our people out of here
if we don’t have enough trucks to carry the supplies we’re going to need。”
“My support crews are pretty talented； colonel；” said van Droi。 “The vehicles you say are
wrecked； are they still in the drop…ship？”
Stromm grinned。 “Think your men can fix some of them up； van Droi？”
“Not like the cogboys could； sir； but I’d say it’s worth a try； wouldn’t you？”
“Get them on it right away； then。 Kassel； make sure they get everything they need。”
“Of course； sir。”
Stromm stood and walked to the entrance of the tent。 “We’ve got lots to do； gentlemen。 Let’s be
about it。”
Having been dismissed； van Droi and Kassel followed the colonel out into the open air。 Van
Droi judged that there were just a few hours of daylight left。 His crews would have to work under
lamps。 It would be a long night for them； but there would be time enough for rest once they were
under way again。
“If you’ll follow me； lieutenant；” said Kassel； “I’ll show you what there is to work with。”
“Lead the way；” said van Droi； and together； he and Kassel moved off； walking around to the far
side of the crashed ship to enter via the massive rent in its main hold。
With the two lieutenants gone； an exhausted Stromm let his facade slip； just for a moment。 His
shoulders sagged and he blew out a deep； exhausted breath。 His arm still hurt like hell despite
injections of anaesthesium。 Sure that no one else was within earshot； he took a tiny； handcrafted
icon of the Emperor from a side pocket in his fatigues； raised it level with his face and said； “Light
of all Mankind； there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you。 You know that。 So do you think you might
get off your bloody Throne and help us out a bit？”
After checking Last Rites II for outer damage — her headlamps had been shot to pieces； some of her
vision blocks needed replacing； and the turret’s left…side external stowage boxes were riddled with
bullet holes； but these things were easily fixed — Wulfe found himself with a little well…earned
downtime。 The support squads would take care of maintenance duties。 Lieutenant van Droi had
ordered the tank crews to rest and recover； knowing they would be crashing hard after the fight。
Coming down off so much adrenaline was enough to knock some guys out； but Wulfe didn’t feel
ready to try for sleep yet。 His throat was still itching； though whether it was because of his scar or
because of the damned dust； he couldn’t be sure。 Sipping a little water — a little being all he could
afford himself — seemed to help。 He pulled a rebreather mask over his mouth and nose and went for
a walk。 If it was the dust that was bothering him； the mask would stop it getting worse。
Masked or not； his stroll was far from pleasant。 The desert sands were cratered； fire…blackened；
and absolutely littered with bodies。 At least all the bodies were those of the foe。 Colonel Stromm’s
men had finished removing their fallen brothers from the field of battle。 Wulfe was glad of that as he
weaved between piles of alien cadavers。 Many of the bodies wore thick plates of black armour； iron
pitted with rust and scored by las…fire。 Between the plates； Wulfe saw gaping wounds caked with
55
blood…soaked sand。 He was doubly glad of his rebreather now。 The stench would have been
unbearable without the mask’s powerful filter。
Last Rites II had slain many of the beasts； surely over a hundred； though she wouldn’t be
wearing any new kill…markings for it。 To an armoured company； infantry kills counted for little in
terms of prestige； even in such numbers。 Armour kills were what mattered； the challenge of machine
against machi