"I was worried you'd stop them from coming."
A deep, weathered voice reached Grot's ears as he silently watched the Krieg soldiers.
He heard the voice before seeing its owner, and smelled the smoke before hearing the voice.
Without even turning around, Grot knew who had arrived.
"Why were you so worried?" Grot asked.
Creed walked over to Grot's side and watched the reconnaissance survivors being strapped with explosives alongside him. After exhaling a puff of smoke, he said, "You know, you people always seem to have objections to this sort of thing... like how you send people to rescue abandoned squads from other Astra Militarum regiments."
"You might show a little humanity in situations like this."
"That's why I was worried."
After saying that, Creed took a deep draw on his cigar. Smoke drifted out with every syllable he spoke next. "My relationship with your Governor is like the relationship between Cadia and your sector. I have to keep an eye on his people, lest they get themselves into unnecessary trouble."
Grot slowly shook his head. "Yes, we do stand up for what is right, but we also follow every rule laid down by the sector. Those we aid must be calling for help, and those we help must want help—just like your Cadia."
Hearing this, the Castellan gave a slight nod.
"Since the Kriegers themselves can accept and willingly abide by such a harsh military system, what can outsiders possibly say? All we can do is offer our respect." Grot turned and left after saying this.
Creed pondered it for a moment, rubbing the neck that seemed almost nonexistent.
He was still watching the Kriegers.
The thought of fighting alongside the Death Korps next left Creed with nothing but a headache.
"Personnel numbered 17882 through 18233, assemble! You