Brytnoth nodded and noted again.
'I'm sure your chapter's experience and specialised sensor equipment will be a match for it/ put in Madorthene. 'Myself, I'm worried about the guard. They'll be the mainstay of this action/
'They've all seen the preliminary briefing simulations/ Brytnoth murmured.
'With respect, I have too and they hardly do justice to the places we will find ourselves in.' I looked across the table into Brytnoth's face. His rugged features were sunken and colourless, the common trait of one who spends most of his life hidden within a combat helmet. His hooded eyes regarded me with interest. What wars, what victories, had those eyes witnessed, I wondered. What defeats?
'What do you suggest?' Brytnoth asked.
'Adverse cross-training,' I replied. I'd thought about it long and hard. 'Olm here knows I'm no military man, brother-librarian, but that's the way it seems to me. Make the troops practise overburden and off-balance. Blindfold them in some exercises, cuff them in others, alter gravity in the training vaults. Make the weighted packs they carry off centre and awkward. Switch light levels without warning. Crank the temperature and air pressure up and down. Simply make it hard for them. Train them to run, cover, shoot and reload in off-putting extremes. Make them learn all their essential combat procedures so well they can do them anywhere, under any circumstances. When they hit the ground at 56-Izar, let the fight be all they worry about. Everything else should be instinctive.'
Madorthene smiled confidently. 'The infantry forces at our disposal are primarily navy troopers and Mirepoix light elite from the Imperial Guard, seasoned soldiers all, unlike the poor Gudrunite foundees you had to nursemaid, Gregor. We'll put them through the hoops and raise their game for the big push. They've got the combat hours and the balls to do it.'
'Don't stint,' I warned Madorthene. 'And those foundees you refer to –Sergeant Jeruss and his men. I want them with me when I go in.'
'Gregor! We can give you a crack squad of Mirepoix who-'
'I want the Gudrunite survivors.'
'Why?' asked Brytnoth.
'Because whatever their combat inexperience, they've seen a tetrascape. Those are the men I want at my side.'
Madorthene and Brytnoth exchanged glances, and the procurator shrugged. As you wish.'
As for the others, like I said, don't stint on the training regime.'
'We won't!' he chuckled, mock-outraged at the idea. The drill masters will work the regiments so hard, they'll yearn for real battle.'
'I'm serious/ I said. 'Every man that deploys on to 56-Izar – the venerated Deathwatch chapter included, Emperor bless them – should be ready to lose control of his senses, his judgment, his fortitude and even his basic mental faculties. They're going to be hit hard, but in an insidious way. I don't care if every man jack of them forgets his own mother's name and wets himself, they must still know how to hold a line, fire and reload, adore the Emperor and respond to orders/
'Succinctly put/ Brytnoth said. 'I will, of course, temper your proposals before I put them to my battle brothers/
'I don't care what you tell them/ I chuckled, 'as long as you don't let on who it came from/
'Your anonymity is assured/ He smiled. A wonder, that. I consider myself one of the very few mortals to have made a librarian of the Adeptus Astartes smile. To have seen a librarian of the Adeptus Astartes smile even.
Brytnoth pushed his slate and stylus aside and looked over at me with curiosity. 'Mandragore/ he said.
The bastard child of the Emperor? What of him?'
'I'm told you killed him yourself. In single combat. Quite a feat for one such as you – and I mean no disrespect/
'No disrespect is taken/
'How did you do it?' he asked frankly.
I told him. I kept it simple. Brytnoth made no reaction but Madorthene was quietly agog.
'Brother-Captain Cynewolf will be fascinated/ Brytnoth said. 'I promised him I'd find out the details. He was dying to ask you about it, but he didn't dare/
Now that was funny.
