“Marvelous show! Marvelous! I must add.” the commissar was leaning on the tanks side clapping “Marvelous! Now, were to Captain Mace?” Horn turned to Mace as the evacuation ships with all the civilians and the rest of the army, including the 43rd company, where seen rocketting up past the thinning atmosphere of the dying planet.
“A ship! We need a Dammned ship, something small and fast. Minnver, Strogg and Sargeant Fritz!” “Yes Sir!” the three stood to attention. “Sargeant Fritz, take Minnver and Strogg, I want a quick recon over at the ruin junk heap other side of that building! Numbers Sargent, I want numbers.” “Sir!” Fritz jumped to attention, saluted and dissapeared amongst the smashed stone and junk followed by the merciless Strogg and a complaining Minnver.
Strogg was quite handy having around as he was a born pshycopathic killer, a born soldier so to speak. A bit like the Commissar. He was nicknamed Strogg after he brutally ambushed the infamous Ork Nob Strogg while he was rallying the Orks under the snipers deadly frightening fire. He was later found on the Nobs body cutting him to shreds over and over for no apparent reason. After the incident the nickname Strogg caught on.
“Piquets! Remaining four, 30 metre spread, Circle fomation around the tank, jump to it!”
The captain ordered.
Mace, Horn and the tank crew were left.
“Up and runnin, shortly!”
“Good, Good.” The pleased Commissar replied.
“So what may I ask are your plans Captain Mace?” Horn inuired.
“We need a dammed ship sir, something to get us the bloody hell out of here, sir.”
Short while later Sargent Fritz returned. “So?”
Fritz stood to attention “Captain Mace sir, a ship, Imperial ship but looted by the 'skins sir.
In working order, space for the tank too sir. Thirty outside, less than five inside, sir.”
“Good work Fritz. Right, call up the Piquets, Hows the tank?”
“Wont explode if thats what you mean.” The commanders voice came from inside the tank.
“Right. We are going to pay a little visit to our green skinned friends. Snipers! Pin the Bastards, Skirmish order, we come from the flank. Commissar Horn, if sir doesn't mind, your highness will accompany the Hellhound in its glorious charge.”
“The pleasure is but mine” the Commissar replied while getting up onto the tank.
Alle's Klar? Herr Kommissar