Aboard the transport, scores of warriors were performing the Crimson Tide Chapter's special version of postbattle prayers. Kazhaniv glanced at William beside him.
"William."
"Hmm? What is it, Brother Kazhaniv?"
"Has anyone ever told you that you're becoming more and more like the Chapter Master?"
"No... I think I'm doing all right..." William thought it over. His recent work had been decent, without any mistakes.
Was my bearing starting to resemble the Chapter Master's?
"Brother Kazhaniv, do you mean that the way I conduct myself is becoming more like a true Chapter Master's?"
"No." Kazhaniv shook his head and pointed at the half-eaten red fruit in William's hand. "Chapter Master Evan is the only person I've ever seen pack up even the fruit to take away after a meeting."
"..."
The other Astartes turned to look at Kazhaniv, astonished. Had their taciturn First Company Captain actually started cracking jokes?
The Chapter left this world behind. Perhaps its long historical record would one day note that the Crimson Tide Chapter had come to its aid and dealt with the Ork invasion. To the Chapter, however, it had been nothing more than an ordinary extermination campaign, one that had made the Adeptus Mechanicus wince a little at the supply costs.
No matter. They had ascended into machines. They had no flesh left to hurt.
The Chapter split up once again.
After rigorous discussions and a review of their experience, they found that ordinary Astartes and Chaos Warriors generally operated in groups of a company or half a company, roaming from battle to battle aboard a Strike Cruiser.
Recruits could handle an ordinary world. If it harbored unusual forces, such as Genestealers, a single company of warriors could easily deal with it.
Thus, working on the principle that each force should be able