Kommandos

When Iax reappeared, he carried a supply crate with a partially melted casing. He pried it open with force, spilling its contents across the ground.

Iax glanced over the scattered supplies bearing medical markings. Since he had no idea what the abbreviations on the medicines meant, he simply gathered them back into the crate and carried it toward the makeshift cover built from broken pieces of metal and fallen hull fragments.

The Apothecary looked somewhat taken aback by the medical supplies Iax thrust into his hands, then turned to Calando.

"Sir, these Mortals are too badly wounded. We have no time to treat them and care for them. Bringing along these burdens will slow our mission."

Calando glanced at the unconscious Mortals soldiers, then turned to Iax.

"How will treating these Mortals help our mission?"

"I need intelligence to fill the gaps in my data analysis. The landing craft's recorder was burned out, and none of its data survived. They can tell me exactly what they encountered."

Calando cast an impassive glance at the unconscious Mortals soldiers laid out on the gentle slope, then looked at the Apothecary beside him.

"Wake them. Once we have the intelligence, leave the remaining medicines here. We still have a mission to complete. If we succeed in achieving our objective, notify the ship on our way back and have it send a team to retrieve the survivors."

Iax gave the Ultramarines before him a strange look.

Even generals in ancient times would not lightly abandon the soldiers under their command.

These biologically enhanced warriors treated their own wounded comrades as burdens without the slightest compunction. It was not as though they were automated combat machines with limited intelligence.

Still, Iax had no intention of trying to understand how the Ultramarines thought.

All that mattered