“As you are all aware, we have arrived in the Irsuna system. The Dark Angels have a presence on the planet below, here…” the planet referenced glowed brighter in the projection above the table, ensuring everyone was oriented on the strategic situation, “and this,” now the moon above that planet grew in intensity, “is our objective. We have received a request to neutralize the entire planetoid. The moon has three critical locations, a spaceport, a small arms and ammunition manufactorum, and a heavily fortified interplanetary cannon.” Each location in turn was marked by a red numeral on the lunar surface as he spoke. “The cannon is a hard target, built primarily to withstand orbital assaults but weak against a fast, close-action ground assault…our specialty.” His brother Templars all grunted with slight humor. “As you all can guess, that cannon is the priority. From its location on the moon, enemy forces can bombard the planet below with near impunity, and it has also forced the Dark Angel Strike Cruiser Uziel’s Might to relocate to the far side of the planet…limiting their capabilities on the planet. That is the broad situation.” He waved his hand; the images in front of his brethren disappeared allowing him to see all faces before him.

Marshal Hartnackig sat at the aft end of his Company’s Round Table. Twelve other Astartes were equally spaced around the table save for one seat. As tradition dictated, the stern-most seat directly across from the Marshal was empty. It would only be filled by the Emperor’s Will. It wouldn’t be long now, it never was before battle. To his left, his second in command, sat Castellan Kuhn. To his right, Master of Sanctity and Reclusiarch Messertatze and Heilig respectively. Continuing counterclockwise sat Schlitten, Raketer, and Schwert. Those three were accepted and proven members of his House, the top three of his Company Sword Brethren. They each respectively led the Fighting Company assault terminators, terminators and a small but elite sword brethren squad. Beyond them sat his crusader sergeants, leaders of the company crusader squads; Kreuzritter, Dschihad, and Heilstreit. They were not yet sword brethren, but they each were proven enough to be allowed to lead the units in charge of training the neophytes, his company’s future generation of brothers. Further around the table sat brothers Radfahrer, Witterung and Luftengriff. They were the company biker, speeder and assault marine leaders. Specializing in fast attacks against the enemy, they would be critical in the campaign to come. Each face intently looked to his as he examined each in turn. Marshal Hartnackig never ceased to be amazed at the pure will and determination his brothers showed before battle. With these Astartes as his brothers, failure was becoming a word unknown. Victory had always been a certainty; Hartnacking had yet to be even remotely defeated since being granted this company by the High Marshal.

“We have detoured from our Great Crusade to assist the Dark Angels here for one reason; the moon is held by the Enemy. Chaos forces have not forcefully taken this moon in righteous combat; they have perverted the sacred souls of the imperial guardsmen and won this moon with dark deceptions. Our fellow man had no opportunity to prove their loyalty to the Emperor; so quickly were they twisted and warped by evil.

We have two battle plans open to us. As in my previous campaigns with this Company, all options will be presented for review by unit leaders. And as before, we will choose together as a united Company the best plan of action. First,” the moon image reappeared, and with each action spoken, iconography appeared to highlight the battle plan, “we take the moon alone. We drop forces directly into the spaceport, assault outward to the manufactorum and afterwards regroup. This cuts off resupply and reinforcements from the planet below, ensuring sound battle lines to our rear as we then move on the lunar fortress. The Enemy is numerous, but the plan is sound…if risky for us alone. “Hart reset the moon projection.

“Our second option is to have the Dark Angels distract the Enemy with simultaneous assaults on the spaceport and manufactorum…we then make a deep strike directly into the fortress and capture the Cannon. This plan is potentially a much quicker solution, but relies upon our Angel brothers to significantly distract the Enemy from the fortress in order for us to successfully deep strike. With only one action and our whole company with us, I believe the second plan to carry less risk and, granted successful distraction, better chances for complete victory. What say you all?” Hart first looked left, the first word always given to his second.

“Marshal, the Dark Angels need support from us to neutralize the moon, not a distraction for their own forces from the planetary battles they already face. I say alone. We risk shame upon our Company if we need assistance to assist our brothers.” Castellan Kuhn spoke firmly, resolute in his choice. Hartnackig agreed within. It would be his choice to take this task upon his Company alone. But Hart firmly believed in discussing all options. It did nothing to demean his stature as Marshal to discuss plans, as he was always the leading authority…but it did great things to involve subordinates; most of all it trained the next generation of leaders…castellans and marshals to come, desperately needed in the future to lead the Great Crusade. “Chaplains, what say you?”

Master and Reclusiarch looked at one another, then with a slight nod the Master gave his subordinate permission to speak. “Marshal, our spirits allow us no option other than glorious combat alone. We will not share this challenge with any other. The Dark Angles consort with witches, for all that they are our brothers. We cannot risk the Enemy being allowed at our flanks and rear during the coming campaign. Alone say I.” Having spoken his piece, the entire Round looked to Master of Sanctity Messertatze. All that was heard was an approving grunt followed by a sincere nod of approval. Messertatze was not known for his words, but his actions. During a prior campaign against the greenskins, he had closed into combat with their warboss, using his axes to methodically dismember every limb in turn…but not until after having his own throat viciously ripped asunder. The warboss’ teeth were on a thin chain around his neck. Messertatze apparently thought it had been a fair trade for his voice. The Company apothecaries had hope for his great speeches to one day take place again, but not any year soon. Among the initiates and neophytes however, it was rumored that he could speak, but chose to do so only to the dying enemies he left behind him on the field of combat. Messertatze always went for the in close kill, and always appeared to whisper to those he slew as he laid down foe after foe before him.

Normally a Marshal would have replaced his Master with a chaplain that could speak and take care of the spiritual needs of his brothers, but Reclusiarch Heilig took care of that well enough…and no brother failed to take heart in combat while Messertatze took the field. No, Hart would keep Messertatze as his Master of Sanctity until only death or the Emperor’s will demanded otherwise.

The sword brethren took their turn to speak. Having conferred together at some point, only the senior sword brother spoke. Leader of the assault terminators, Brother Schlitten often spoke for all of the Company elite. “Marshal, we want this honor for ourselves. Never would we willingly choose to share burdens properly belonging to us alone.” Hartnacking held in his approval so far, keeping his expression and voice properly neutral. “Assaulters?”

Similar to how the sword brethren deferred to their highest skilled brother, the assault specialists deferred to Initiate Luftengriff. Even though only an initiate, he led the assault marines with extreme vigor. He was often graced with the Reclusiarch’s presence in battle. Heilig had been an assault marine before becoming a chaplain, and still held dearly onto the jump pack he was first given. His zeal and fervor appeared to be rubbing off on Initiate Luftengriff. Hartnackig knew within that Luftengriff would likely never make it into his House, never join his sword brothers. No, his path most likely would fall under Messertatze’s holy oversight within a mere few years. Luft spoke nearly with as much zeal as his chaplain brother, “Marshal, we say alone. Send us to be your distraction. With our land speeders, bikes and my assault marines, I guarantee you we can pull enough of the Enemy to the spaceport to allow a successful deep strike upon the Cannon. Let us take the place of the Dark Angels in your plan, we will emerge victorious.”

“No brother, your courage and righteous fury are well placed, but you will be needed at the fortress, regardless of which plan we choose.” Out of the corner of his eye, Hart did not miss Messertatze’s approving grin. “Initiates?”

“We agree alone, Marshal. Our initiates are young. Trained, but still fresh. We cannot chance the risk of witches within our ranks. We know the Dark Angels are strong, but they are not fully trustworthy. Their librarian gives us pause. Alone say we.” Kreuzritter would be a sword brother soon, another strong member to be inducted into Hartnackig’s House. He showed not the zeal of a chaplain, but the sound tactical mind required of a Templar leader. He could go far, in time. And though they had the option to speak, the other two crusader leaders merely nodded approval for their senior initiate brother.

All having spoke, Hartnackig rose, “We are all of…” the doors to his Round Table room slammed open. The interruption was ill timed, but one never stood against the Astartes who strode in. An initiate, freshly risen from neophyte walked into the room and stood behind the last empty seat. All around the table watched in silence. Only the initiate and Marshal stood, at opposite ends of the Round. The lower Templar spoke first. “Marshal, I have felt the Emperor’s Will. We will face this Enemy alone. We will achieve glorious victory. And we will not stop this crusade when our mission is complete. The Enemy is below as well. We have not been requested, but we will aid our brothers below. Alone this moon, together the planet. I, Initiate-Brother Kampfer, will be His Champion, and crush the Enemy’s most mighty in His name.”

“Welcome champion. Be seated and at home at this Round.” With Hart the last Templar standing he addressed all. “We are all agreed. Alone we will take this moon. In addition, the Emperor has graced us with His will. We will take the cannon, support our brethren Angels below with its fire and assist them in purging this planet of the Enemy. Chaos can only falter before the might of Black Templar and Dark Angels combined. Inform your brothers, prepare your arms, and gird your wills…we make moonfall on the spaceport at local dawn.”

The room emptied save for Hartnackig and Messertatze. The Master of Sanctity rarely left the Marshals side. “Shall we inform our friends below?” Only a grunt replied, but an approving grunt. Hart reactivate the imager centered in the Round. Belial himself was leading the campaign on the planet surface; his visage showed recent victory, so covered in remnants of the Enemy was his armor. “Yes Marshal? Have you responded to our request?” “Yes, we are here. Moonfall will occur at dawn. We will purge the moon and then take your input for where we will strike next on the planet.”

“You plan to join us then on the surface? Good, I will draw up a list of priority targets we expect to need purging in the coming days. You will be informed. For the Emperor.”

“For the Emperor.” The image faded. “Messertatze, you and yours, go sanctify our brothers. Have our mechanicum trained brothers wake Wollstoff from his slumber. His ancient expertise in siege warfare will be needed in the coming days. Meet me in the armory after. We will make moonfall together, leading our first assault side-by-side as tradition demands.” Messertatzt nodded acknowledgement, leaving Hart alone in the core of his ship.

Strike Cruiser Gottendamerung smoothly glided through the dark, closing on the target moon. The name had special meaning to Hart. It translated to Twilight of the Gods, or End of the Gods. It signified the end of the Enemy and those they foolishly worshipped. In Hart’s mind, the moon was already his. He was already pondering where Belial would request his planetfall in the coming days.

Hartnackig’s latest Crusade had just begun in full.