The War for Durance

++THOUGHT OF THE DAY: IT IS BETTER FOR A MAN TO BE AFRAID THAN HAPPY++ Inquisitor [REDACTED], Pursuant to your request for background materials on the belligerents during the most recent troubles on Durance, I humbly submit the following documents. First, a brief overview of the Patriot Guard's indigenous vehicle designs with regard to their effect on the organization's war-making capabilities as a whole. It is unclear how our inquiry staff sourced the document or who authored it; the tone switches between a dry recitation of technical and historical facts and conversational, overly bold, even. It has been edited to omit irrelevant data, such as several digressions consisting primarily of complaints concerning the author's deployment to Durance. Secondly, an unofficial memorandum regarding overall Patriot Guard effectiveness from an outside perspective, specifically that of Sub-Castellan Jesenia Okowiscz of Kasr Skala. The missive is addressed to Acting Castellan Oswaldo Ha...

“Would you say this is better than the craftworld?” Arteban asked, as soon as he was finished vomiting. “Or worse?” Pranamin canted her head to one side, considering the question. She sat on the curved bow of the Wave Serpent, feet kicking back and forth as they dangled over the edge. “I’m having a wonderful time,” she said. Her guardian helm hid her expression, but Arteban could hear the aeldari’s smile. “The food here is good, no haunted skies full of daevas, and plenty of war machines to hunt with my new friend Sweet Pea.” Pranamin patted her stolen Imperial melta gun. “I could do without the radiation,” she admitted after a pause. Arteban groaned and wiped his mouth before replacing his own conscript helm. “You don’t know the half of it.” Exposure to baleful energy did not especially bother the Shades of Altansar. They had built a tolerance after thousands of years within the Eye of Terror. Arteban recalled an encounter with a disbelieving seer of Alaitoc who demanded to know how t...

 Djura already knew the shot was a good one. He snapped off the shot with a proficiency bordering on disdain. Thirty meters downrange, sparking along the edge of a hulking wraith-construct's shoulder and into the chest of the aeldari witch skulking behind them. Djura didn't bother to check the status of his target. It felt right, and there were plenty more witchbreed pirates that demanded his attention. For instance, the heavily armored things that seemed to have materialized on the Choir battlegroup's right flank. There were five of them, bulky for aeldari in their moss-green armor plate, their oddly elegant chainswords nearly silent. Djura wondered for a moment how the hell aeldari managed to field successful infiltration teams with such unsubtle equipment. Their leader gave an abrupt gesture with a clawed gauntlet and the group charged, directly at Micolash, the Choir's pre-eminent theologian, psyker and ranting madman. Before Djura could act, a blur manhandled Mic...

Pyotr offered the gray strip of meat to the Skitarius. "You folks eat, yeah? It's cinereoniger jerky. It's. Well. It's not good, exactly, but it's calorie dense, I guess." The Serberys raider and his mount turned their heads in unison. "Interrogative: What is cinereoniger?" "It's a big translucent slug, lives all over the exclusion zones. It's got some weird proteins that deactivate a lot of the worst isotopes from the engine leaks. Makes it the least radioactive critter in the zones. Turns out, if you flash-desiccate them, they don't taste that bad." The raider nodded, shadowed by the gargantuan canine he rode. "Inloaded. Thank you, but no. Further questioning: why is a volunteer insurgent so knowledgeable about the local fauna's resistance to radiation?" Pyotr laughed. "Camarada, the Choir is headquartered in the most radioactive place on the planet. You either learn this stuff, or all your hair falls out a...

The specimen annex was Dores' least favorite place, not just on the PRUDENTIA, but anywhere he had ever been. The annex, a cube two kilometers to a side, was suspended in a cavernous void deep within the innards of the PRUDENTIA. A lonely bridge, lit by a flock of lumen-cherubs endlessly chanting warding hymns, was all that connected the specimen annex to the rest of the Ark Mechanicus. This was a defensive measure; should invaders attempt to breach the annex, the melta charges placed along the underside of the bridge could be detonated to confound attackers. This same failsafe could also be used to isolate the annex should any experimental subjects pose a danger to the ship. Were it up to Dores, he'd blast the supports instead, and smash the whole hellish place to pieces. Another defensive measure, which Dores loathed, was that the specimen annex was completely info-quarantined. Reports were physically transcribed and delivered via servitor to the SANGUINE VETERIS PRUDENTIA at...

++FROM THE OFFICE OF ARBITRATOR SOPHIA RACZAK++ ++EXHIBIT 381, RE: WALDEMAR FEYN, MARSHAL-GENERAL, "PATRIOT GUARD," PLANETARY DEFENSE FORCE OF DURANCE++ ++SUPPORTING CHARGE OF WANTON DERELICTION OF DUTY++ What follows are more data recovered from the grand strategium. By this point the Patriot Guard was overwhelmed with calls for aid. While the extent of the conspiracy against Durance was not fully clear by this point, Marshal-General Feyn had perhaps the clearest view of what was happening. His failure to act decisively is self-evident. Exhibit 381 consists of an annotated map of Talionis Prefecture after the uprising's first major acts of sabotage and terrorism. Annotations are transcribed below, for the sake of clarity. I am authorizing the deployment of Patriot Guard infantry and light armor companies to support Civil Security in Talionis Prefecture. While the unrest elsewhere on Durance appears to stem from the usual pain points - work conditions, health care, potabl...