Marius Flavius Appullo adjusted his peaked cap, he knew his rank was a field-promotion, and Colonel Claudius was a good man, but took a bolt of warp fire enriched plasma to the chest & upper torso when the “Titus Salient” got raided three years ago. “Emperor grant his soul rest, his wisdom will be missed.” Col. Appullo’s adjutant, Staff Sergeant Crassus cleared his throat and said “Pardon the intrusion sir, is everything alright?” Marius sighed slightly, stood up from his desk strapped his sword to his waist and replied with some reluctant gusto “Damndable heretics, I was thinking about Colonel Claudius; he had this look of almost innocent surprise on what was left of his face.” Staff Sergeant Crassus snarled then spat on the floor “Grox-fucking Heretical whoresons.” Colonel Appullo chuckled, then said “Thank the Emperor that the men who were given field promotions were at least marginally competent, ey?”. “By the Throne sir, we’re bloody lucky to be able to push for an offensive at all; though I must ask, it’s not all that awkward to be taking orders from an Astartes is it?”. Marius pushed open the tent flaps and gestured for the Staff Sergeant to leave the tent. “Never forget Staff Sergeant, these are Legiones Astartes, not some little Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes; they follow Pre-heresy rules & regulations, and barely care about some Ultramarine Primarch’s mandate.” 
	
	As Staff Sergeant Crassus had a look of terror on his face, he muttered “That sounds bloody heretical sir!” Before Colonel Appullo could respond, a loud clunk of ceramite & steel plated boots echoed from behind him. It was Veteran Hoplítēs-Sergeant Iásōn, he had his helmet off, showing a trimmed, jet black beard on what could only be described as a “Classical Hellene’s” chiseled features; sporting what was only called a “Corinthian Hair Cut” in millenia before the Age of Strife was even a remote possibility; his general features and the accoutrements of his armor left a distinctly ‘ancient’ aesthatic (like many of his Legion), even for a survivor of the Legiones Astartes locked in stasis in an abandoned ship outside of a highly isolated & cut off stretch of the galaxies spiral arm. Iásōn practically cackled, “No, he’s right, the Ultramarines and those dogs in the Inquisition forget the Hekatonkheires Legion had a decade of mourning over the Stormlord’s Murder & Ascension upon the Golden Throne.” Staff Sergeant Crassus looked utterly dumbstruck, “Milord, are you speaking truth when you say this? A Genuine bloody decade in mourning?”. Veteran Hoplítēs-Sergeant Iásōn had a somber expression, some of the Guardsmen nearby looked concerned for their safety to some degree; “Yes, We heard of Istvan before the Great Severing darkened the edges of the Spiral Arm, isolating us from the Emperor’s many Glories and Humanities many sons.” Staff Sergeant Crassus made the symbol of the Aquilla over his chest and gulped, “By the Throne, right; and why didn’t you do what the Ultramarines wanted with the Codex Astartes?” 
	
	Colonel Appullo stifled a laugh, Iásōn glared at him, then swiftly broke a smile. “We had been seperated far-too long, yet remained staunchly loyal; being seperated would have been detrimental, and like the Black Templars & the Vlka Fenryka an exception was made.” Colonel Appullo chuckled, then said “Yes, I was about to bring that up, but what do I know; I’m just a poor planters son from Aetius II.”; The Veteran Hoplítēs-Sergeant held a hand up and said “Before we carry on with these pleasantries any further, Brother-Archigós Odusseús demands your presence.” Appullo stood stock-straight, tipped his cap then turned about-face towards the reinforced ruins of what could only have been a barracks all those millenia ago, the two rather intimidating marines in Terminator armor at the door step aside and let him pass. “Aléxandros, Phílippos, a pleasure as always.” he snapped off with the slightest amount of snark, one of the Marines snorted and the other grunted in response. A towering behemoth of a space marine stood over an equally massive holographic map display, his armor was blatantly pre-heresy, yet the helmet & pauldrons had what could only be described as “native” elements, and potentially even parts taken from a Terminator suit at one point in the ancient past. Brother-Archigós (Brother-Captain) Odusseús bellowed out greetings “Colonel, nice to see you in one piece after the last encirclement that you pulled on the heretics.”, he gestured towards a servant to pass Appullo a cup of wine. The Colonel accepted the bronze cup both out of courtesy and due to the bottle or two of amasec running dry in his quarters weeks ago.
	
	“Squads Epsilon through Ultima have succeeded in bringing judgement to who knows how many traitor positions, your guardsmen seem to be doing quite well with the equipment they have; both in holding the rear and ensuring the defence of taken quadrants of the Space Port.” “Good, good, glad nothing changed before my subordinates forced me to get some sleep; apparently an all lo-stick & re-caff diet isn’t healthy for one of the Guard’s Officers.” Thankfully, unlike many of his kind, Odusseús had a sense of humor. He chuckled, then replied “You don’t have the benefit of the augmentations the Emperor saw fit to bestow upon Astartes; Throne preserve you if your lungs burn out and you aren’t a well-to-do rogue trader, correct?” Colonel Appullo seemed awestruck, a Space Marine had just cracked a joke in front of him, how was that possible? Appullo lightly shook his head, smiled then replied “Yes, apprently, on my pay, it is not altogether healthful or sustainable; yet I do what I must to complete the orders given.” Odusseús let loose a roar of laughter, then slammed his hands on the table hard enough to rattle the hanging lights in the room “GOOD MAN! The Emperor protects & guides those with righteous determination, stay the course.” The Colonel cleared his throat, “Brother-Archigós, you called me into your command-room for a reason, right?”
	
	The Brother-Archigós stood stock straight, and his eyes narrowed. “Yes, yes I did, all pleasantries aside; there seems to be a smuggling ring within the PDF regiments that were put under your control following General Karlsen’s death.” Appullo sighed somberly, he knew times were tough for the second wave colonists, but he didn’t know they were that tough; following the destruction of the newly constructed Space Port (Circa M42) at the hands of heretics, and the warp irregularities interrupting any chances for warp gate travel & resupply by the Traitorguard & Chaos Space Marines it seemed both sides were evenly matched to a certain extent. “Ah, forgive my tone, but you know how I’m going to deal with this, don’t you?”  Odusseús grimly nodded, his face giving off nothing more than a disappointed scowl for an expression. “Yes Colonel, yes I do, but Stormlord willing, you will be able to deal with these thieving traitors appropriately; exploiting the needs of the many for the excesses of the few ought to enrage even the local Ecclesiarchy representatives.” Colonel Appullo honestly did not expect this kind of back and forth conversation to be possible between a member of the Astartes and the ‘Common Man’, the idea alone seemed unusual. “Understood Brother-Archigós, I shall gather the commissars and the Imperial Navy Constabulary officer’s that survived alongside the remaining military police; this may very well be a witch hunt in all but name, the guilty will be found and held accountable for their crimes and the sin of guilt.” Odusseús let out a “hmmph” followed by what was tantamount to a blessing. “Go forth and do the Stormlord’s Will, exact his judgement upon these scoundrels; Throne grant you fortune in the job ahead.”.