"At present, the Legion has a total of five thousand one hundred and twenty-seven warriors on its rolls who are fit for deployment."
"They are not currently dispersed on independent assignments. All are accompanying the main fleet, on standby at the highest state of alert."
"Just over five thousand?" Turing's brow creased almost imperceptibly. His mismatched eyes turned toward Maccabeus, a glimmer of appraisal passing through them.
For a full Space Marine Legion, that number was decidedly thin.
"Why are there so few? I recall the records stating that the Eleventh Legion's initial strength was comparable to that of its other Brother Legions."
Maccabeus fell silent for a moment, then spoke again.
"We participated in the previous phase of the Rangdan Xenocides, Father. Although we could not reach the main battlefield to fight alongside the Legions of Lord Angron, Lord Curze, and Lord Lorgar, who joined them later, the Legion was ordered to conduct diversionary and cleansing operations in the flanking sectors in support of the main offensive."
"There, we encountered a large Rangdan Confederation Task Force and its attached ground legions that had not been fully tied down by the main campaign."
"During the fighting, the enemy employed psychic interference technology we did not fully understand. Over forty-seven standard days of back-and-forth fighting and surprise attacks, more than two thousand Legion brothers were confirmed dead, with a gene-seed recovery rate below forty percent. Several hundred more permanently lost their ability to fight due to neurological damage or irreversible injuries inflicted by unknown weapons. They have been transferred to the rear for limited mechanical replacement."
Two thousand Legion warriors. That number would have been a heavy blow to any Legion. For the already small Eleventh Legion, it had cut to the bone.
"Mm." After hearing him out, Turing merely gave