L-VII-2084

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VII Legion, 47th Company; 517 Retribution Fleet


L-VII-2084
Legio VII Veteran Cataphractii.png
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Legio

Legio VII

Legio Name:

The Imperial Fists Legion

Designation:

L-VII-2084

Cognomen:

517 Retribution Fleet

Allegiance:

Loyalist

Owner:

User:Shaughnn

Loyalist.png


History

The thrum of the command barbican seeped through Command Marshal Innes Vanderholm’s hands as he gripped the rail overlooking the logistics gallery below. No human voices broke the even melody of cogitations and analysis in the numerous occupied lockers which ringed the operations arena. Through the panoramic display of the theater, the silhouette of the first minor planet of the Gollach system crept across the weak light of the distant sun, like an insect across a vast windowpane. The arrival, into the system, of the 517th Retribution Fleet had been clockwork perfect. His picket was distributed for effective interception with maximum opportunities of crossfire. Each of those captains authorized to initiate hostilities if threatened by xenos or heretic. Behind the pickets, the battle barges, carriers, haulers, forgeships and logistic vessels arrayed into their assigned proximities.

To his left, Lexico Arcanus Esagono Trill-7 loomed silently, but for the whisper of her augmentations. Vanderholm guessed at Esagono’s gender only for the sake of expediency. The Mago’s vocalizations were of a higher timber and its biological frame seemed to have been faintly feminine. But it was the delicate knuckles of Esagono’s right hand which influenced this choice. The dossier provided by the fledgling Ordos Mechinum made no mention of this detail and 280 years of collected reports likewise offered no indications of the hulking robed figure’s sex. Her loyalty to this mission was not suspect however. He had selected to include her in this campaign based upon those criteria alone.

On the Command Marshal’s right milled a scrum of starched jackets and highly-polished leather. High Commander Butough stood at the center of his entourage. Each exchanging dataslates between themselves as they discussed and debated the assignments to be issued to the distributed forces of Butough’s Solar Cohort, tens of thousands of foot soldiers and tonnes of ordinance which would be used to execute Vanderholm’s campaign. The traditional appellation of “Marshal Solar” had been stripped from him as soon as he had been assigned to the 517th Retribution Fleet, and the new title of High Commander Solar bestowed upon him in it’s place. “There will be but one Marshal in my fleet, High Commander”, is how Vanderholm had greeted him. And that is how it would be. Butough still chafed at its abruptness.

Below, in the Logistics Gallery paced Lord Admiral Zeddi Mous, too engaged in the precise assignments of the hundreds of vessels under his choreography to attend the meeting on the battlement far above him. Lord Marshal Vanderholm took one last sweeping assessment of the forces displayed before him and allowed himself a very slight smile of satisfaction. “Every stone in it’s place.”, he silently assured himself before turning to greet the figure whom he anticipated would arrive momentarily.

From down the long vestibule, the armored and cloaked figure of Centurion Adal Bhern approached. His stride strong and his eyes scanning the displays and screens of the barbican, drinking in the tactical data displayed across the theater, he entered the mezzanine as he approached his Preator. At Bhern’s side he wore the weapon which Innes Vanderholm himself had built for him, as a gesture of his ascension to the rank of Centurion. The barrel of the bolter and under-slung meltagun were clean and unadorned. Every remaining centimeter outside of these though was inscribed intricately with the events which had earned for Adal Bhern his command. These men had fought together for decades. And Bhern had never once faltered in his service of Vanderholm’s will. Now he stood before his High Marshal once more and executed a sharp salute with his armored left fist ringing against the center of his polished chestplate. “We have arrived at Sabreath, Adal. We have been tasked with taking control of an orbital base so that our legion brothers may cleanse the planet’s surface without undue distraction. You are my Delegatus. By the blood of Dorn, we shall topple what folly has erected. By the Emperor’s will, His truth will extinguish all doubt.” with that, High Marshal Innes Vanderholm handed a dataslate to Delegatus Consul Adal Bhern, and so began the ebbing of the Tides of the Corrupted.



Combat Reports for L-VII-2084

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