Lieutenant Marcone scribbled a handwritten note silently, the ink pen eliciting soft scratching noises as I waited impatiently. We rendezvoused five minutes ago, by my reckoning, but I had been under the impression he would have been ready to receive Morek and I immediately considering the blatant disorder of the troops and the near death of a handful of them. Whatever he was doing, I found it strange he did not have an aide to do it for him, or that he had not requisitioned a datapad, which might have made the task more expedient. 

Finally, with a flourish of his pen, he set the quill down and aired the parchments, before rolling it up and planting his seal on it. Very old fashioned, my father would appreciate a man of his tastes. Perhaps I could too, if he had not kept me waiting. 

"Now, as to the matter at hand." Marcone said, handing the parchment to his second, who had approached at just the right time to take it before leaving, as if they had been waiting, watching a picscreen just outside the door. "My apologies on the wait." 

"That's quite alright," I temporized, granting an amicable smile as Morek stood behind me, chewing on something as usual. After giving a small glance the squat's way, he looked squarely at me. "As you called the meeting, I assume you would like to speak first." 

"That would be acceptable," I said, clearing my throat. It was clear this Marcone was more of a desk officer, and so I appropriated a similar persona, holding myself with an air of professionalism. "At around 0618, there was an altercation in the barracks cordoned off to my platoon. I arrived at 0626, along with the Commissar, and halted the melee before it truly got out of hand. I am here to discuss how justice should be meted, and how we can avoid such conflict in the future, as we are all children of the emperor. We will be arriving to our destination in the matter of a month, and we must be unified before we land." I felt I had laid it out in plain terms, my words only partially dismantled by a soft belch from Morek.

"I agree completely," Marcone responded crisply. "We need to be united before we reach landfall." 

A smile bloomed on my face. "That is good to hear. It would not require much harsh punishment for your men, of course. I can provide lip service to my unit to make it seem less congenial." 

"My good man, it is your troopers that should be punished." Marcone said without a hint of irony. That stopped me in my tracks, and it took all of my willpower not to give a snort of derision or burst out laughing from the ridiculousness of the statement. I held myself well, leveling my gaze to meet his. 

"Lieutenant," I began, emphasizing every syllable. "It was my men that were asleep, when yours attacked. It was my barracks that was assailed. I fail to see how, in any way, shape, or form, my troopers are to blame in this specific scenario. I severely doubt a colonel would disagree with me, either." 

"On the surface, you are correct. However, in order to keep further conflict from arising, we must inquire upon the 'why.'" He responded, and cleared his throat. "Are you aware your men have taken more than their fair share of medpacks, equipment, munitions, and ammo?" 

"I am aware that we were at the forefront of the engagement with the xenos, and therefore acquired more wounded and lost more munitions, therefore we were more desperate need for resupply. I am also aware it was my deductions that saved the regiment from being blindsided by a waaagh of Orkoids." I reminded him, and Marcone took that as the proverbial nail in the coffin. He gestured, as if it was as plain as day. 

"That is precisely my point! It is your...reputation-" As he spoke, I could almost hear the word 'undeserved' during his brief pause. "-that has garnered your men to act so arrogantly. I hear you also disobeyed our Colonel in order to advance upon an enemy without proper reconnaissance." 

"We were the reconnaissance," I assured him. 

"And now your platoon has taken it upon themselves to requisition almost double what my platoon has received, bragging loudly whilst they do so. I have also received reports of your platoon's nickname." 

I glanced at Morek, who looked as neutral as ever, before turning my gaze back to eye Marcone. "So...because my men were wounded and had some bluster for saving the regiment and perhaps the planet, the answer to that is violently attacking them in their beds?" 

"The answer is discipline, Lieutenant."  

"I'd prefer you call me, 'my lord.'" I said, admittedly with more than a bit of petulance. Truth be told, I did not prefer that even in the best of moods, unless it helped me bed a woman or gain some advantage. However, I felt this man had a massive inferiority complex, and I thought it satisfying to make it worse. I saw Marcone's jaw tighten, and his nostrils flared gingerly. I made sure not to smile. 

"Discipline, my lord." He responded. 

"I completely agree," I assured him, taking my leave of my seat and clearing my throat, mirroring a number of his mannerisms from earlier. "I shall endeavor to make certain my men do not brag too loudly for their deeds of heroism, and I will do my best to make certain they conserve ammo and bleed less. And in return, I expect you to enact a new standard to your platoon, most notably to keep your men from acting like ravenous dogs. If not, I will put them down. Good day, Lieutenant." Without another word, though I could feel him glowering at my back, Morek and I walked out into the hall and made our way back to my office so I could ponder at this strange conversation.