Ah, so it's you!
Rowan suddenly understood.
This na was practically legendary!
The Savior of Armageddon, one of the three great God-Chosen Commissars of the Imperium, the eternal arch-nesis (and star-crossed lover) of Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka, the perpetual nightmare of the Orks, Old Bale Eye...
Thinking back, the campaign that truly cented Yarrick's god-like status—the Second War for Armageddon—was still roughly fifty years in the future.
Given that this sector was within the Segntum Solar, it made perfect sense for him to be stationed here at this point in his career.
This also perfectly explained why this particular Astra Militarum regint was so incredibly potent. Not only had they arrived to reinforce the drop assault with impeccable timing, but they had also repeatedly repelled multiple offensives from an Ork Waaagh! backed by the industrial output of an entire Hive City.
As for the Baneblade super-heavy tank that had looked so familiar to Rowan, it was highly likely Yarrick's personal command vehicle, the Fortress of Arrogance.
"State your identities."
Yarrick repeated his previous question, his brow gradually furrowing.
The mont he had stated his na, the apparent leader of this bizarre squad had looked at him with an incredibly peculiar, almost exotic gaze, as if he had heard of him before.
But that didn't make any sense.
He considered himself to be nothing more than a perfectly ordinary, unremarkable Commissar within the vast ranks of the Astra Militarum.
Had he interacted with them previously?
But this led to another profound conundrum.
Yarrick acknowledged that he held a modicum of status within the Imperium; after all, being a Commissar made him a person of so consequence.
The problem was the composition of the party standing before him.
A Living Saint. An Inquisitor of the Ordo Malleus. And an Adeptus Custodes.
This lineup instantly eradicated the vast majority of Yarrick's suspicions.
Truth be told, if a heretic ever managed to pull together a disguise of this apocalyptic magnitude just to deceive him, Yarrick would honestly just accept his fate.
The inherent credibility of this retinue was so absolute that if they pointed at Yarrick and declared him a heretic, Yarrick would genuinely pause to consider if he should just execute himself on the spot.
What was truly bizarre, however, was that these three individuals—each possessing earth-shattering authority within the Imperium—were calmly and naturally acting as an honor guard for the man standing in the center, subtly deferring to his every command.
This couldn't rely be described as "abnormal."
Even a High Lord of Terra likely wouldn't command such a terrifying escort.
Rowan pondered for a mont. This was indeed a rather difficult question to answer.
After all, a certain Golden Bastard had dragged him into this universe without providing him with any sort of fabricated background or initial identity.
"You may address as Rowan. I am a noble hailing from Terra. Currently, under the directive and absolute backing of a... senior elder within my family, I have comnced a crusade to hunt down various threats to Humanity and the Imperium across the galaxy."
The mont these words left his mouth, not to ntion Yarrick, even the three retainers standing behind Rowan felt the sheer absurdity of the statent crash into them, nearly shattering their stoic expressions.
Yarrick fell silent.
Even for a man renowned for being stoic to the point of absolute humorlessness, he felt an unimaginable wave of absurdity wash over him.
Whatever. At least he is willing to offer a half-hearted lie to humor .
Yarrick sighed internally. He imdiately cut through the Gordian knot of the situation, shifting the topic directly to the core matter at hand.
"What is your objective here? How do you require our assistance?"
As an Imperial Commissar trained in the Schola Progenium, Yarrick fully understood that the various labyrinthine branches of the Imperium harbored their own dark secrets.
Faced with such an incomprehensibly abnormal situation, he knew perfectly well that choosing to feign ignorance and pretend he saw nothing was the most tactically sound decision, and the best way to serve the God-Emperor.
[To be naive yet steadfast is to be shielded by the Emperor.]
Ignorance was often a shield, a truth Yarrick understood deeply, especially when recalling the bizarre rumors constantly circulating back on Armageddon.
Rowan couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.
As expected of Old Bale Eye. His pragmatism is highly efficient.
It saved him the imnse hassle of trying to concoct further explanations.
"Nothing overly complicated; our objective here is quite simple. I require your regint to coordinate with us to breach and conquer the fallen Hive City, terminate the Ork Warboss, and then..."
"With all due respect, that is categorically impossible."
Yarrick cut Rowan off cleanly and decisively.
Ah. Well then.
Rowan was montarily taken aback.
Classic Yarrick. That uncompromising, blunt emotional intelligence...
"At this current juncture, absolutely zero tactical conditions have been t that would allow us to successfully assault that Hive City. In other words, it is a fundantally unachievable objective."
"Even with the deploynt of Astartes?"
"Even with the deploynt of Astartes," Yarrick emphasized heavily. "That Hive City is a fortress. It will be a at grinder. An absolute at grinder."
"Watch your tone, Commissar."
The Custodian standing behind Rowan finally spoke up. "You are bordering on cowardice in the face of..."
He did not finish his sentence.
A subtle glance from Rowan halted the Custodian's reprimand.
In matters of siege warfare, Rowan naturally trusted Yarrick's judgnt.
After all, the battle that cented this man's legendary status was the defense of Hades Hive on Armageddon.
Relying on nothing more than a battered rabble of PDF troopers and underhive gangers, Yarrick had stubbornly held the line against the main vanguard of Ghazghkull's Waaagh! and endless waves of elite Ork units, holding out just long enough for Astartes reinforcents to arrive.
While that was an extre outlier, it perfectly demonstrated just how impregnable a Hive City could be under the command of a competent leader.
"Then, in your professional assessnt, what are the primary obstacles to capturing this Hive City? What tactical conditions must be satisfied?"
Trusting the expert's opinion, Rowan felt it was best to hear Yarrick out.
"First and foremost: the Void Shield. Our current heavy ordnance is completely incapable of penetrating that barrier. This translates to a scenario where those cunning xenos can fire upon us with impunity, while our artillery is incapable of retaliating against their positions."
Yarrick spoke without a shred of hesitation.
"Mhm. And what else?"
Rowan asked, a pen and notepad having inexplicably materialized in his hands, upon which he began taking diligent notes.
Yarrick's eyes widened slightly.
He was highly confident in his kinetic vision, especially regarding close-quarters sleight of hand.
Yet, Yarrick entirely failed to perceive exactly how or when those items had appeared in Rowan's grasp.
After a brief internal struggle, he forcefully swallowed his questions.
"Your strike cruiser in orbit does indeed provide us with unparalleled void supremacy, but its lance batteries remain incapable of threatening the Orks beneath the shield."
"Furthermore, regarding the Adeptus Astartes... based on my combat experience, they are undeniably devastating when shattering defensive lines. However, this specific Ork Warboss is exceptionally cunning and veteran. The approaches to the Hive City have been engineered into a massive kill-zone. The mont any force pushes into it, they will be subjected to devastatingly precise, pre-sighted artillery barrages."
Yarrick paused for a mont before continuing, "Granted, with your reinforcents, breaching that outer periter is technically feasible. But what cos after?"
"The internal topography of a Hive City is a labyrinthine nightmare. We have zero intelligence on their internal defensive emplacents. Furthermore, we currently lack the highly specialized armored assets required to engage those damned Greenskins in brutal urban warfare."
"Our armored regint's current operational roster consists solely of Leman Russ battle tanks and Chira transports, alongside two relic Baneblades. And even these units are currently suffering from critical logistical shortages."
"We have no Hellhounds. No Stormswords. No Stormlords... Damn it all, those [Armageddon Expletive] bureaucrats in the Departnto Munitorum! We had absolutely zero intelligence that the Hive City had already fallen before we made planetfall!"
As he spoke, Yarrick's frustration began to bleed through as he vented his grievances.
But this ti, Rowan was the one to interrupt him, a confident smile spreading across his face: "Are you implying that so long as these specific tactical conditions are satisfied, conquering the Hive City becos a viable possibility? Is that correct?"
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