Colonel Randolph Corlani of the Krieg 33rd Armoured Regiment was tearing into his staff officers. His roars pierced the walls, at times even briefly drowning out the incessant beeping of the communications equipment. By the time he finally calmed down for the moment, a new letter from the rebels had reignited his fury.
He took off his cap and hurled it heavily to the floor, then roared.
"Even Orks have more sense than those stuck-up little dandies! How dare they deploy without my orders? Look—look closely! That bastard not only wrote me a handwritten letter, he even thanked me for sending him tanks and armoured vehicles! God-Emperor, strike them dead with Your wrath!"
"Do you mean for the God-Emperor to strike down the rebels, or...?" one of the younger staff officers asked cautiously.
"Of course I mean those idiots who deserve to be dragged off by the lanky bastards and made into slaves!" Randolph cursed. "What can they do besides eat, drink, and play? They cannot even be bothered to put on a show most days. Nine times out of ten when I inspect their training grounds, they are nowhere to be found!
"Beasts, trash, scum! Ork shit! Even Glaxus Beasts are more useful than them—at least you can eat those!"
The staff officers exchanged looks, then burst out laughing. The one who had tentatively spoken up laughed especially hard, but he did not forget his duties. Before long, he made another suggestion.
"Headquarters has not issued any new orders for three hours, Colonel. Perhaps we should consolidate our forces... what do you think?"
"I think the people up top are a bunch of idiots too." Randolph ignored him and abruptly said this instead. "All they know how to do is lie around collecting money and pull strings everywhere to