ReedeThe23rd

CONTAINMENT

You can count me on board as well.

Warhammer 40k: It's A Wonderful Life! An Imperial Guard (40K) RP

@Irredeemable@Reia

---

Deep into the ever-growing festivities, Mordecai had completely lost track of his brothers-in-arms. Not that it mattered much, he supposed. As long as they were enjoying themselves, he could rest easy knowing they'd managed to get a proper sendoff for their longstanding friend. In a way, the lack of their presence was in and of itself a farewell. It was certainly something he'd have to get used to, not having Henry and Felton stapled to either side. Mordecai shrugged, perhaps this was all part of some plan the God-Emperor was arranging. Only time would tell.

Tucking away his gift from the Major, Mordecai set about wandering alone through the throng of celebrating Guardsmen. People passing around lho-sticks and bottles of every shape and size, rations and foodstuffs of all types being worked into far more edible stews and soups, and gambling as far as the eye could see. Despite this massive aura of celebration and enjoyment, the general sense of foreboding would not leave Mordecai's mind. Perhaps that's why, instead of continuing to drink and sing with the various rowdy folk, he chose to sit down at a hearty campfire, chiefly occupied by a band of tribals, but also an odd fellow dressed in a ramshackle assortment of armor and clothing, as well as what looked to be a Cadian private so small, Mordecai wasn't sure they could have passed for a Whiteshield, let alone a fully-trained soldier.

Sidling up to the fire and taking a seat, he offered the tribals a wave. "Hope you lads don't mind, been looking for a place to rest my feet." The odd man out was chatting with the Cadian, who Mordecai noted seemed to be younger gal rather than the scrawny teenager in disguise he'd expected. The walking patchwork quilt of a man was finishing up speaking, his strange accent wreaking havoc on Mordecai's already lesser hearing. He did manage to make out that the man was offering a hand of cards, though the name of the game, Voiddin, wasn't one he was familiar with.

"I'm up for a game, can't say I'm familiar with that one, but in the end cards is cards. Name's Mordecai, by the way. Mordecai Tharn."

He'd offer a firm hand to Telaci, the other giving Charlene a mock salute with the first two fingers. "It's good to see another grunt of Cadia, miss. You from the homeworld proper, or a Regiment on tour?"

Warhammer 40k: It's A Wonderful Life! An Imperial Guard (40K) RP

The last firing order had not come in from the vox in roughly half an hour, and the echo from the other guns in the regiment had stopped at roughly the same time. In order to replace the smell of diesel fumes with something a bit more palatable, such as gunpowder and cannon smoke, Mordecai had clambered out of the driver compartment of his Basilisk and onto the firing deck of the conjoined Earthshaker cannon. He wasn't concerned about missing any essential orders, having long ago learned how to patch the vox-feed into his personal micro-comm. Instead he took the lull in orders as an opportunity to 'shoot the shit', as it were, relaxing in the high sun with his crewmates.

Officially the gunner and loader, Privates Henry Vael and Felton Kent were easily Mordecai's closest comrades and only true friends. As Mordecai hefted himself onto the firing deck, one arm wrapped around the railing bar, one leg dangling over the edge and the other propped up on the metal platform, the two gave him a casual salute with their first two fingers.

"So Mordo, any news from the brass?"

"No word on anything yet, but I ain't complaining. More time to kick back and take it easy. You dealing, Kent?"

Felton nodded, shuffling up a deck of playing cards before dealing out proper hands for a game of Suicide Kings. The lads didn't have much in the way of actual substance to gamble with, they tended to share most everything anyway, so their games were more a way to pass the time and occupy their hands while talking. Roughly two hours of this passed, Mordecai and his crewmates having slipped back inside the crew compartment of the Basilisk to shade themselves from the beating sun overhead. Having grown bored with the endless hands of Suicide Kings, the men had rigged together makeshift napping alcoves by stretching out across empty crates and containers, fatigue tops balled up as pillows. Mordecai's rest was broken when a call over the vox-comm startled him awake, his sudden alertness rousing the others.

"This is an open call to all members of the Cadian 232nd. The battle for Vernum City is officially over, with a resounding Imperial victory. All surviving members of the Imperial Guard are to report for the final victory speech and ceremony of commendations, effective immediately."

With this, Mordecai snapped his fingers twice in quick succession, rousing the lads to quickly take their places for moving inward towards the city. Mordecai hoped this ceremony would end with a much-needed break. While he liked the Basilisk, you can only spend so much time in a tin can without it becoming a hassle. The smell had started to get to him, too...

---

As the General-Militant droned on with his speech, Mordecai found himself reciting the simple-yet-important mantra of Don't let the knees lock...Don't let the knees lock..., his focus leading to him almost completely drowning out the General with the tinnitus developed over years of working around the massive Earthshaker cannon and the roar of the Chimera chassis engine. Finally, the General finished, the only commendation given to the non-officers of the 232nd was a campaign ribbon representing service in the Vernum Crusade, pinned alongside similar "participation" ribbons from service in a smattering of minor campaigns Mordecai had found himself in since his appointment as a Whiteshield.

Just as quickly as they had been ushered in at the start of the ceremony, they were ushered out, Mordecai and the others of the 232nd sent to the Munitorum headquarters to account for their various vehicles and heavy munitions, before reporting to their assigned prefabricated barracks. Finally, a bit of real R&R at last...

---

Shacking up with some of the other vehicle crews in the 232nd's barracks, Mordecai, Henry, and Felton quickly helped make the place as much of a home as they could. Ration packs were pooled together and divided out in a makeshift banquet, smuggled and stolen Amasec passed around in anything that could vaguely pass as a cup, and even the scent of lho-sticks hung heavy in the air, despite the best efforts of their users to exhale out the ventilation shafts and cracked-open windows.

Mordecai, as the closest thing passing for a "real" NCO in the bunk room-turned party hall, was careful not to overindulge on much of anything, lest some hasty explaining be required thanks to a surprise appearance by the Commissar. Luckily it wasn't a commissar that arrived, but one of the more recent Whiteshields to be bequeathed by the Emperor to the regiment, currently acting as the Major's courier, a role Mordecai was all too familiar with. The boy shuffled in and was met by the door to the bunks by Mordecai, who seemed a bit surprised to find the Major's errand-boy at his doorstep.

"Letter for you, sir! Straight from the Major 'imself! Addressed to a... 'Corpsal Tarn' I think it says."

"Right, thanks lad. Dismissed."

The Whiteshield popped off what could be called a salute as Mordecai unfolded and skimmed the brief letter. Seems the Major wants to speak with him personally about something. Rather surprising, given the last time they spoke was when they were both about ten-odd years younger. Hollering back to the party boys to keep their noses clean, but not too clean, he stepped out the door and began the trek to the officers' bunks to have a chat with the man in charge. The moment he was out from blocking the doorway, the feast-turned-party quickly breached the gap and spilled out into the open-air space between hab-blocks. Mordecai shook his head and hollered out "Save something for me when I get back!"

The officers' quarters were far more calm than the hab-blocks holding the grunts and treadheads, and it was pretty easy for Mordecai to make his way to the Major, showing the letter to anyone questioning him being there. Snapping a salute and showing the letter to the door guard, he stepped into the makeshift office and quarters of the senior officer of the 232nd Cadian. The Major, he had a name but nearly everyone just called him the Major, was an older man, greying hair, a trimmed beard, and wrinkles and creases across his face. He shared a salute with Mordecai before gesturing to a second chair next to an end table currently serving as a desk. "Have a seat, son."

The Major popped the cork on on a fine bottle of liquor, finer than any Mordecai had seen this close, and poured around two fingers each into a pair of sipping glasses, handing one to Mordecai.

"Savor it, son. I didn't exactly call you in here for a jamboree."

"Sir? So this letter isn't exactly good news, then?"

"No, its not. This isn't exactly something you're supposed to know yet, even I don't have the full information...but you're being transferred."

"Transferred? Are me and the boys being attached to another regiment?"

"No. It's just you. I don't have all the details, but you're being pulled into some kinda mashup regiment once everyone starts being rounded-up for redeployment. I figured it best to tell you before you got caught up in all the festivities that are bound to happen."

Mordecai turned red, then pale, then a sickly green. Quickly knocking back a large swig of the hard drink, a bit of the color returned to his face. He didn't know what to really think of the situation, but he knew it wouldn't be good. The Major gave him a pat on the back with a firm hand.

"Just keep your head up high, give it your best, and hold the Emperor in your heart." Sliding the fine drink bottle to Mordecai, he winked and said "Try to share a bit, yeah? I'm sure Vael and Kent'll miss ya."

Mordeciat gave a nod and a casual salute, tucking the bottle away for his trek back to the grunt barracks. When he made it back, he trawled through the partying masses, which had grown considerably during his time away. Eventually, he was able to round up Henry and Felton, and break the news to them. It was a pinpoint of solemn sorrow in a sea of raucous joy. The men took the fine liquor bottle from the major, poured three cups, and pressed the glasses together.

"To the 232nd, our best mates, and the Emperor!"

The men knocked their glasses back, let out a cheer as they embraced each other, and then waded out into the throng of fellow guardsmen, joining the celebration that seemed to grow every minute.

Warhammer 40k: It's A Wonderful Life! An Imperial Guard (40K) RP

Corporal Mordecai Tharn

Name: Corporal Mordecai Tharn, listed on transfer papers as “Corporal Tharn, Servan”

Age: 21

Gender: Male

Approximate Height & Weight: 5’11” and 85kg

Former Regiment: 232nd Cadian Mechanized Artillery, listed on transfer papers as “223rd Cadian Mechanized Infantry.”

Speciality: Basilisk Artillery Tank Operator, listed on transfer papers as “Infantry Weapons Specialist.”

Appearance: Time as a vehicle crewman far from the frontlines has left Mordecai a little lax in keeping up proper appearance as a guardsman. Beyond the physical standards expected of every single position no matter their role, he leaves much to be desired. His ruddy brown hair is often more disheveled than it should be, the outline of protective goggles is permanently formed around his face from countless hours of sun and residue, framing his striking violet eyes(a natural Cadian abnormality). His forearms are sharply more tanned and colored than the rest of his fair complexion and naturally paled color, detailing his penchant for rolling up his fatigue sleeves to combat the heat of the tank and its main cannon. Other than the occasional burn scar from freshly-ejected shells or hot machine parts from the tank, his body is free of cuts, bruises, scrapes and other unnatural blemishes. While not visibly noticeable, his time operating the vehicle carrying a massive Earthshaker cannon has left him both somewhat unphased by the loud sounds of war, as well as suffering from notable hearing loss, which can make casual conversation in quiet conditions more than a bit frustrating for both parties.

Uniform: The standard Cadian fatigues, newly issued in the colors of the 87th Combined, paired with black combat boots, light vehicle crewman flak armor, a light flakweave field cap for head protection, knee pads, and thick operator gloves. A pair of protective goggles are generally kept wrapped around his head or headgear when not being worn over his eyes, and a personal micro-comm ear and mouth set dons the left side of his face. A secondary dress uniform is kept for parade and inspection, consisting of an olive drab single-breasted coat with a high collar and formal, tailored pants tucked into black jackboots. The coat features thin epaulets with a solid red stripe lining the edge, denoting the wearer as an artillery regiment member.

Armament: As the vehicle commander of his original Basilisk crew, Mordecai was issued a standard Cadian M36 Kantrael lasgun, but with many of the redundant and non-load bearing aspects of the weapon removed to decrease the size and weight, while still maintaining a higher range and power than the standard lascarbine. However, this has since been replaced with a stock MG Kantrael "Short" pattern lasgun, which is a fair bit bulkier than he'd grown accustomed to. He also keeps the standard combat knife bayonet on hand, with it having commonly doubled as a screwdriver, hammer, or prybar during his time in the Basilisk. An autopistol with a single twenty round magazine is generally tucked into a small holster in his field uniform, serving as a quickly-reached sidearm in a dire situation.

Personality/Demeanour: His time in the rear, and in a semi-isolated vehicle crew at that, has made Mordecai complacent, and it very much shows. Much more of a slacker and layabout than one would expect for someone raised Cadian, his casualness is bound to get him put at the wrong end of some disciplinary reports soon. He’s very amicable, having enjoyed the closeness and camaraderie once shared with his former crewmen, but can be a bit annoying in his constant attempts to break up the quiet with chatter and small talk. He also seems to lack the proper mindset for how to behave around superiors, having forgotten much of the proper etiquette for interacting with a senior officer face-to-face.

In combat, Mordecai cracks, and he cracks hard. It’s been years since he had to properly make up part of a firing line, and even that was at simple training targets. He cowers, blubbers, panics, and prays more than he shoots his gun, and it’ll be a miracle if the commissar or an officer doesn’t use him for bolt pistol practice. His one saving grace is that he can shrug off the sounds of explosions, gunfire, cannons, and screaming, having grown accustomed to spending hours directly next to one of the loudest noises known to the Guard.

Greatest Ambition: To survive long enough to be officially discharged and able to retire with a home, a family, and perhaps even a nice pension for service.

Greatest Hatred: Quiet. When there’s too much...nothing in the air. No sounds, just the tension hanging, waiting to be broken...it drives him mad.

Skills: Although he had served as the tank’s commander, during his time with his Basilisk, every member of the crew took equal turns driving the tank, sighting and firing the main gun, and loading it, so he has a quality level of experience in driving tracked vehicles, as well as in operating indirect fire weapons. He can also make a decent optics spotter and vox-operator in a pinch, as both were tools commonly used by him and his crew. Lastly, while nowhere near the levels of even a minor ordained member of the Machine Cult, he’s a decent handyman when it comes to keeping vehicles up and running in the field.

History: Mordecai was born to a Cadian regiment on deployment, so while not raised on the homeworld, he received as close a facsimile as one could muster in the field, though it was far from par, given artillery regiments like the 232nd weren’t known for the quality of their infantry. Having been one of only three children born to the regiment, his training in proper Cadian marching and firing formations was...mediocre, to say the least. Had training conditions been more ideal, he likely would have been drummed out into a cannon fodder conscript regiment within the first few months. But, he managed to make it to his teen years, and was thus appointed a Whiteshield member of the 232nd. With this distinguished title came the honor, nay, the privilege of lugging about artillery shells and spare parts, standing firewatch over the barracks for eight hours straight, and even spending a month as the aide-de-camp of the regimental Major.

By the time he reached proper maturity to be regarded as an adult, someone somewhere must have thought him worth a damn, as they placed him in a new Basilisk as a crewman, alongside the other two former Whiteshields he had trained with as a youth. Being the best-performing of the three, which wasn’t saying much, he was given the position of the crew’s commander, and the rank of Corporal so that command would know he was at least slightly worth interacting with on the vox. Being the closest thing to classmates as one gets with Cadians, the three got on like a house on fire, quickly becoming steadfast comrades in the face of adversity both foreign and domestic. Although frowned upon by command, the three would commonly rotate between the driver, gunner, and loader positions of the tank, giving them all a familiarity with the vehicle few others had.

Shortly after his 20th birthday, the 232nd were attached as artillery support to the Cadian 223rd Mechanized Infantry, and thrown into the last big push against Ork Warboss Thrakta. Mordecai had never really seen any of the Imperium’s foes, xeno or otherwise, so his knowledge of Orks came solely from the information published in the Uplifting Primer. To Mordecai, the final victory consisted of chugging along in his tank, flinging heavy firepower at what he believed to be stumpy, pudgy blobs of green alien dimwits, and simply having a grand old time. If this is what war was, then Mordecai never wanted it to end.

But in the end, it did. Eventually the attack orders dwindled, before stopping entirely. The crew were ordered to the regimental HQ for debriefing, and Mordecai was blindsided by being taken directly to the Major’s office. Told to take a seat, Mordecai was even more taken aback at the Major seeming just as puzzled as he was. Apparently, he’d received orders to transfer a “Corporal Tharn” to a newly-formed composite infantry regiment. Despite this making no sense whatsoever, the Major had no ability to appeal or request clarification, the orders having come as part of a Departmento Munitorum debriefing pamphlet. With a pit in his stomach large enough to rival the Eye of Terror, Mordecai shipped out to report for initial formation and inspection.

Upon arrival, he would learn exactly what had happened, and why even the Major had been so bewildered. The courier had been meant to deliver the package to the 223rd Cadian Mechanized Infantry, with a Corporal Servan Tharn being the intended recipient of the transfer orders. Upon learning this, Mordecai requested an immediate transfer back to his old regiment, and that this Servan Tharn properly take his place. However, the 223rd had already been folded in their entirety into another regiment, and all official records stated that a “Corporal Servan Tharn” had already been transferred here instead. With no official way out, Mordecai swallowed his fear, and took his place with the other new arrivals to the composite regiment, just in time for the victory parade.

Miscellaneous: He keeps a heavily-modified Screamer proximity alarm rigged to hum at a much lower volume to use as a white noise machine for when he sleeps in quiet places, having gotten used to sleeping alongside an idling engine during his field deployments in the basilisk.

Chronicles of the Grim Crusade - Warhammer 30000 RP Side Thread

Event Name: Unveiling of technical readouts for the Wolfram Battle Tank and accompanying modified variants, derived from the STC fragment of a 'modular battle tank' captured by the Imperial Star League during the liberation of Nova Borilia

Location: Datastream broadcast originating from Mars, Sol System, Sector Solar, Segmentum Solar

Date: Initial broadcast started 1.773.850.M30

Parties Involved: Technical readouts drafted by Cult Mechanicum Artisans, aided by tactical and strategic input from Wolfram of Parrisan and the Imperial Star League.

The following is a series of technical readouts and pertinent information regarding the Wolfram Modular Battle Tank, and its accompanying Cult Mechanicum-approved variant models, the designs of which have been influenced with military tactical and strategic input provided by the machine's namesake Primarch, Wolfram of Parrisan, and the Astartes Legion responsible for the recovery of the STC fragment, the Imperial Star League.

Note: All production models of the Wolfram Modular Battle Tank incorporate the following: Internal Crew Comms Equipment, External Vox-relay Comms Equipment, Smokescreen Launchers, and a Manually-Operated Searchlight. Let it also be known that the Cult Mechanicum has authorized the Rite of Field Adaption, permitting damaged or unsupportable weaponry to be temporarily replaced with an available alternative resembling one found in a variant model, until a functional version of the original armament can be supplied.

Wolfram Modular Battle Tank

Vehicle Name: Wolfram Modular Battle Tank
Forge World of Origin: Mars
Known Patterns: I
Crew: Commander, Driver, Gunner, Loader, Two Sponson Gunners
Powerplant: HL230 V12 Multi-Fuel
Weight: 60 Tonnes
Length: 7.08m
Width: 4.86m
Height: 4.42m
Ground Clearance: 0.45m
Max Speed - On Road: 35kph
Max Speed - Off Road: 21kph

Main Armament: 120mm Smoothbore Battle Cannon
Secondary Armament: Forward Hull-mounted Heavy Bolter
Tertiary Armament: Symmetric Sponson-mounted Heavy Bolters on each flank
Main Ammunition: 40 Rounds
Secondary Ammunition: 600 Rounds

Superstructure Thickness: 180mm
Hull Thickness: 150mm
Gun Mantlet Thickness: 100mm
Turret Thickness: 200mm

Vehicle Designation: 0427-941-1876-WR657/514

Notes:
"This is the stock production model provided by the STC fragment, alongside details essential in constructing the following variants. This model was designed to be a generalist Battle Tank, able to provide armored support for infantry in any situation. The primary power supply, the Hl230 V12 Multi-Fuel Engine is capable of running off of nearly any combustible liquid. Every single armament on the vehicle is able to be exchanged with equivalents from the standard array of Imperial vehicle-borne weaponry, and the overall construction of the tank is simple enough that the stock variant is able to be built on most modernized Imperial worlds, let alone nearly every single Forge World. In essence, this is the perfect tank for a rapidly-expanding military such as the Imperium's." - Wolfram of Parrisan

Wolfram Alpha Battle Tank

Vehicle Name: Wolfram Alpha Battle Tank
Forge World of Origin: Mars
Known Patterns: I
Crew: Commander, Driver, Gunner, Loader, Two Sponson Gunners
Powerplant: HL230 V12 Multi-Fuel
Weight: 63 Tonnes
Length: 7.08m
Width: 4.86m
Height: 4.42m
Ground Clearance: 0.45m
Max Speed - On Road: 34kph
Max Speed - Off Road: 24kph

Main Armament: Conquerer Light Battle Cannon with Co-Axial Storm Bolter
Secondary Armament: Forward Hull-mounted Heavy Bolter
Tertiary Armament: Symmetric Sponson-mounted Heavy Bolters on each flank
Main Ammunition: 46 Rounds
Secondary Ammunition: 1000 Rounds

Superstructure Thickness: 180mm
Hull Thickness: 150mm
Gun Mantlet Thickness: 100mm
Turret Thickness: 200mm

Vehicle Designation: 0427-941-2002-WR0085

Notes:
"The Alpha Variant is intended for use by the Tank Commander of an armored squadron of Wolfram tanks, specifically ones consisting of the stock model, but the modular design can allow the tank to adopt the sponsons of whatever variant they might be commanding. The lighter cannon coupled with the co-axial tracer gun ensure more accurate firing, as well as providing a line of sight to the target for the others in the squad. The smaller ammunition caliber for the Conquerer Light Battle Cannon not only allows a larger ammo supply for the secondary ammunition, but also enables the inclusion of command-level vox-relay equipment. The lighter gun also allows for faster movement when travelling off-road. All in all, its a quality universal command tank." - Wolfram of Parrisan

Wolfram Lupus Tank Hunter

Vehicle Name: Wolfram Lupus Tank Hunter
Forge World of Origin: Mars
Known Patterns: I
Crew: Commander, Driver, Gunner, Loader, Two Sponson Gunners
Powerplant: HL230 V12 Multi-Fuel
Weight: 63 Tonnes
Length: 7.08m
Width: 4.86m
Height: 4.42m
Ground Clearance: 0.45m
Max Speed - On Road: 32kph
Max Speed - Off Road: 19kph

Main Armament: Vanquisher Anti-Armor Battle Cannon
Secondary Armament: Forward Hull-mounted Lascannon
Tertiary Armament: Symmetric Sponson-mounted Lascannons on each flank
Main Ammunition: 28 Rounds
Secondary Ammunition: Unlimited, Drawn from the vehicle's power supply.

Superstructure Thickness: 180mm
Hull Thickness: 150mm
Gun Mantlet Thickness: 100mm
Turret Thickness: 200mm

Vehicle Designation: 0427-941-1880-WR0066

Notes:
"The Wolfram Lupus is the quintessential Tank Hunter model in the lineup. The Vanquisher Battle Cannon fires a specialized anti-tank round capable of penetrating the armor of even certain Titan classes, but in a pinch can also utilize the 120mm round of the standard Battle Cannon. However, the cannon suffers from a lower fire rate, and so is supplemented by a trio of lascannon mounts to assist with multiple targets. The most common deployment of these vehicles is in dedicated anti-tank formations, affectionately nicknamed "wolfpacks" by many of the crewmen involved. These formations traverse the flanks of the battle, picking off enemy armor columns. If logistical issues with the specialized ammunition arise, consider replacing the cannon with the twin-linked lascannon setup found on the Wolfram Geri as an approved battlefield conversion." - Wolfram of Parrisan

Wolfram Lycan Siege Tank

Vehicle Name: Wolfram Lycan Siege Tank
Forge World of Origin: Mars
Known Patterns: I
Crew: Commander, Driver, Gunner, Loader, Two Sponson Gunners
Powerplant: HL230 V12 Multi-Fuel
Weight: 62 Tonnes
Length: 7.08m
Width: 4.86m
Height: 4.42m
Ground Clearance: 0.45m
Max Speed - On Road: 28kph
Max Speed - Off Road: 17kph

Main Armament: Demolisher Siege Battle Cannon
Secondary Armament: Forward Hull-mounted Multi-Melta
Tertiary Armament: Symmetric Sponson-mounted Multi-Meltas on each flank
Main Ammunition: 25 Rounds
Secondary Ammunition: Unlimited, Drawn from the vehicle's power supply.

Superstructure Thickness: 200mm
Hull Thickness: 180mm
Gun Mantlet Thickness: 120mm
Turret Thickness: 200mm

Vehicle Designation: 0427-941-1877-WR0297

Notes:
"The Wolfram Lycan is a dedicated anti-fortification vehicle, designed to act as a battering ram to bring down even the most stubborn and enduring of enemy fortifications. The heavy Demolisher Siege Battle Cannon is an overwhelming gun, and easily the largest the chassis of the Wolfram tank can mount. As such, the vehicle is much slower due to the gun and its ammunition, and therefore should be brought to bear during a siege or other assault on urban and fortified locations. The triple Multi-Melta arrangement is designed to supplement this anti-fortification doctrine by cutting swaths through both enemy-occupied buildings and counter-attacks alike. Ultimately, this is not a tank meant for mobile operations, it is one that should be kept in reserve until an assault on an enemy stronghold is to be prepared, where it can be the battering ram that opens the door for the greater forces." - Wolfram of Parrisan

Wolfram Cerberus Anti-Biomass Tank

Vehicle Name: Wolfram Cerberus Anti-Biomass Tank
Forge World of Origin: Mars
Known Patterns: I
Crew: Commander, Driver, Gunner, Loader, Two Sponson Gunners
Powerplant: HL230 V12 Multi-Fuel
Weight: 62 Tonnes
Length: 7.08m
Width: 4.86m
Height: 4.42m
Ground Clearance: 0.45m
Max Speed - On Road: 28kph
Max Speed - Off Road: 17kph

Main Armament: Eradicator Nova Battle Cannon
Secondary Armament: Forward Hull-mounted Heavy Flamer
Tertiary Armament: Symmetric Sponson-mounted Heavy Flamers on each flank
Main Ammunition: 25 Rounds
Secondary Ammunition: 30 Promethium Canisters

Superstructure Thickness: 200mm
Hull Thickness: 180mm
Gun Mantlet Thickness: 120mm
Turret Thickness: 200mm

Vehicle Designation: 0427-941-1877-WR0111

Notes:
"The Wolfram Cerberus is, frankly, a horrifying weapon. The Eradicator cannon fires an irradiated cannon shell that explodes in a small-scale nuclear detonation, annihilating the animate and inanimate alike. Coupled with the trio of Heavy Flamers, and this tank becomes anathema to nearly all biological life on the field of battle. As such, the recommendation is that this tank be reserved almost exclusively for battles against nonhuman forces. In particular, the Cerberus has been shown to prove sufficiently effective against Ork Greenskin hordes, not only destroying their troops, but the reproductive spores expelled upon their death as well. The prime danger in using this tank is that the nuclear-charged munitions, coupled with the large replacement canisters of promethium fuel for the flamers, makes this vehicle a moving deathtrap if something causes it to detonate. Take caution when utilizing the Wolfram Cerberus in any capacity." - Wolfram of Parrisan.

Wolfram Fenrir Skirmisher Tank

Vehicle Name: Wolfram Fenrir Skirmisher Tank
Forge World of Origin: Mars
Known Patterns: I
Crew: Commander, Driver, Gunner, Loader, Two Sponson Gunners
Powerplant: HL230 V12 Multi-Fuel
Weight: 60 Tonnes
Length: 7.08m
Width: 4.86m
Height: 4.42m
Ground Clearance: 0.45m
Max Speed - On Road: 35kph
Max Speed - Off Road: 21kph

Main Armament: Exterminator Twin-Linked Autocannon
Secondary Armament: Forward Hull-mounted Heavy Bolter
Tertiary Armament: Symmetric Sponson-mounted Heavy Bolters on each flank
Main Ammunition: 500 Rounds
Secondary Ammunition: 1000 Rounds

Superstructure Thickness: 180mm
Hull Thickness: 150mm
Gun Mantlet Thickness: 100mm
Turret Thickness: 200mm

Vehicle Designation: 0427-941-1876-WR1643

Notes:
"This variant is built for smaller battles, where armored support is still a valuable asset, but enemy resistance is expected to consist chiefly of infantry and light vehicles. The twin autocannons are the chief showcase of this, allowing the tank to levy overwhelming fire upon both infantry units and light armor support, and even aircraft if the main gunner feels daring and confident enough in their accuracy. The Exterminator turret can quickly be removed in place of a standard Battle Cannon if the need for heavier support arises, easily making this the most economical variant of the Wolfram Battle Tank." - Wolfram of Parrisan

Wolfram Howler Anti-Infantry Tank

Vehicle Name: Wolfram Howler Anti-Infantry Tank
Forge World of Origin: Mars
Known Patterns: I
Crew: Commander, Driver, Gunner, Loader, Two Sponson Gunners
Powerplant: HL230 V12 Multi-Fuel
Weight: 60 Tonnes
Length: 7.08m
Width: 4.86m
Height: 4.42m
Ground Clearance: 0.45m
Max Speed - On Road: 35kph
Max Speed - Off Road: 21kph

Main Armament: Punisher Gatling Cannon
Secondary Armament: Forward Hull-mounted Heavy Bolter
Tertiary Armament: Symmetric Sponson-mounted Heavy Bolters on each flank
Main Ammunition: 5000 Rounds
Secondary Ammunition: 1000 Rounds

Superstructure Thickness: 180mm
Hull Thickness: 150mm
Gun Mantlet Thickness: 100mm
Turret Thickness: 200mm

Vehicle Designation: 0427-941-1876-WR0920

Notes:
"The ultimate anti-infantry tank. The triple Heavy Bolters and the rapid-firing Punisher Gatling Cannon will chew through even the largest swarms of enemy forces with little trouble, but is almost utterly ineffectual against anything else. In trench warfare, its the perfect for a grinding counter-attack to cut swaths through the enemy line infantry. If paired with the Wolfram Cerberus, Greenskin hordes will cease to exist. In a fight where armor is a certainty however, this tank cannot stand on its own. And the sheer amount of ammunition this vehicle utilizes will put a strain on even the hardiest of supply lines if overused or relied upon too much. If you need to cut down foes on foot, this is the tank to call upon." - Wolfram of Parrisan

Wolfram Geri Laser Destroyer

Vehicle Name: Wolfram Geri Laser Destroyer
Forge World of Origin: Mars
Known Patterns: I
Crew: Commander, Driver, Gunner, Loader, Two Sponson Gunners
Powerplant: HL230 V12 Multi-Fuel
Weight: 60 Tonnes
Length: 7.08m
Width: 4.86m
Height: 4.42m
Ground Clearance: 0.45m
Max Speed - On Road: 35kph
Max Speed - Off Road: 21kph

Main Armament: Annihilator Twin-Linked Lascannon
Secondary Armament: Forward Hull-mounted Lascannon
Tertiary Armament: Symmetric Sponson-mounted Lascannons
Main Ammunition: Unlimited, Drawn from the vehicle's power supply
Secondary Ammunition: Unlimited, Drawn from the vehicle's power supply

Superstructure Thickness: 180mm
Hull Thickness: 150mm
Gun Mantlet Thickness: 100mm
Turret Thickness: 200mm

Vehicle Designation: 0427-941-1876-WR5643

Notes:
"While there may appear to be some overlap between this tank and the Lupus variant, the usage of five lascannons gives this tank an anti-fortification element the Lupus simply lacks. This tank is the knockout uppercut when going up against heavily-defended positions, able to obliterate nearly any opposing armor or structure in the end. The usage of pure energy weapons also eliminates the need for ammunition resupply, with the rechargeable power packs able to be restored to full capacity in transit between combat deployments. However, this is one of the two most expensive variants to produce, as the pure energy focus puts a strain on maintenance and repairs. The Geri variant is best used as the core of a varied and broad squadron of Wolfram variants, in the end." - Wolfram of Parrisan.

Wolfram Freki Plasma Tank

Vehicle Name: Wolfram Freki Plasma Tank
Forge World of Origin: Mars
Known Patterns: I
Crew: Commander, Driver, Gunner, Loader, Two Sponson Gunners
Powerplant: HL230 V12 Multi-Fuel
Weight: 60 Tonnes
Length: 7.08m
Width: 4.86m
Height: 4.42m
Ground Clearance: 0.45m
Max Speed - On Road: 35kph
Max Speed - Off Road: 21kph

Main Armament: Executioner Plasma Cannon
Secondary Armament: Forward Hull-mounted Plasma Cannon
Tertiary Armament: Symmetric Sponson-mounted Plasma Cannons on each flank
Main Ammunition: 10 Photonic Fuel Cells
Secondary Ammunition: 30 Small Photonic Fuel Cells

Superstructure Thickness: 180mm
Hull Thickness: 150mm
Gun Mantlet Thickness: 100mm
Turret Thickness: 200mm

Vehicle Designation: 0427-941-1876-WR2243

Notes:
"Easily the most expensive variant of the Wolfram tank, the Wolfram Freki model is a destructive force to be reckoned with for any foe. The explosive molten plasma projectiles will vaporize nearly anything they come into contact with, and can chew holes through buildings and enemy armor alike. The drawback is the volatile nature of the weapons themselves, with the risk of overcharging the plasma weapons potentially leaving the tank critically damaged and unarmed, or even destroyed. The weapons will also strain supply and maintenance, as they're one of the most expensive vehicle armaments the Imperium has available. If money and resources are no object, and the enemy needs to be hit with overwhelming fire at all costs, this is one of the best generalists tanks we have." - Wolfram of Parrisan

Chronicles of the Grim Crusade - Warhammer 30000 RP Side Thread

Event Name: Unveiling of technical readouts for the Wolfram Battle Tank and accompanying modified variants, derived from the STC fragment of a 'modular battle tank' captured by the Imperial Star League during the liberation of Nova Borilia

Location: Datastream broadcast originating from Mars, Sol System, Sector Solar, Segmentum Solar

Date: Initial broadcast started 1.773.850.M30

Parties Involved: Technical readouts drafted by Cult Mechanicum Artisans, aided by tactical and strategic input from Wolfram of Parrisan and the Imperial Star League.

Star Trek: The New Order

From his position at the science station, Lt. Commander Clarke watched the scene in the bridge play out, one hand clasping his opposing wrist, fingers gently rapping against it as a look of faint contempt washed over his face. Peacekeeping. They keep using that word. I don't think it means what it think they means. Mark my words, by the end of the year, they'll have chopped up Romulan space between us and the Klingons faster than you can say "To hell with the Prime Directive!"

Clarke had spent most of his adult life studying what small peaks into the cultural, biological, and evolutionary history of Romulan Space the Star Empire had allowed the Federation to glimpse through his original team's expeditions back on Science Station D-4, near the trinary border and the former united colony effort between the Klingons, Romulans, and Federation at Nimbus III. His career had been modeled on the stories and reports of Starfleet's exploits prior to the Dominion Wars, when the organization was about exploration, learning, and growing peaceful coexistence.

But that was all in the past. The warhawks, arms dealers, and would-be generals had gotten their way, and now Starfleet had more in common with its history as the United Earth army and navy than it did in the days gone by. Violating the rights of foreign sentients in the name of "policing" and "security" is not what Starfleet should be about, and it went against the very fiber of everything Clarke had been taught and had done since his first day at Starfleet Academy. But yet here he was, hoping that in some twisted way he could bring that sense of peace and learning back by being at the forefront of this excursion. And so he grimly paid attention to the speech being made, and played out his duties as the ship prepared for its full departure with the rest of the fleet vessels crossing the Neutral Zone.

The Grim Crusade - A Warhammer 30000 RP

Primarch Wolfram of Parrisan

Name: Wolfram of Parrisan

Gender: Male

Homeworld: The Hive City World of Parrisan. Unlike other Hive Cities found on human worlds, the single megacity of Parrisan, known as the World-City, is a vast horizontal urban sprawl covering much of a world bearing terrain similar to 3rd Millennium-era Terra, opposed to the general design of enormous spire cities. The main source of conflict, strife, and danger came not from the world itself, but from the nearby locations in the void of space, for at the time of his arrival, Parrison was a minor spacefaring multi-world nation, bent on its own claims to undiscovered human worlds and technology.

Appearance: Wolfram resembles the common flavors of ancient North Europe stock, fair skin and hair, with a brighter verdant green eye color. In physical build and height, Wolfram is the best example of what would be the closest to a ‘stock Primarch’ were there ever such a thing. He stands at roughly 11 feet tall, with a build that towers over others, but with proportions more in line with one who does not actively serve in combat and instead keeps fit through physical regimens. When it comes to the armored battle regalia of a Primarch, Wolfram is as much an outlier as he is militarily, favoring a lighter suit of custom powered armor more resembling a souped-up suit of Astartes Scout armor rather than the standard large battle armor donned by the frontline fighters of the Imperium. He also bears a power sword resembling the depictions of the ancient Terran mythological sword Excalibur, a traditional English longsword with a golden rectangular crossguard and matching rounded pommel, with his sidearm being a Bolt Pistol that to the untrained eye would seem to match those carried by all other Astartes officers, but is carefully engraved with lines resembling the travel layout of the entire World-City of Parrisan.

Personality: Wolfram is quiet. Eerily quiet. He is the bookkeeper that stands just alongside the mob boss in his chair. The financier next to the CEO at a board meeting. The adviser who speaks only in whispers in the king's ear. The trusted first officer always at the side of the naval captain. In a galaxy of generals, statesmen, warmongers, tyrants, and heroes, Wolfram is the 'man behind the throne' often found throughout the history of mankind. As such, in meetings between his siblings, their father, and others of importance in the Imperial government and military, Wolfram is often the only attendant who almost never speaks, answering questions and making statements in the most direct way possible, with no fanfare or righteous anger. When he reports of conflict, everything is presented akin to statistics on a clipboard, or data in a spreadsheet. This often puts him at odds with those who see the Crusade as a righteous quest or a grandiose adventure. To Wolfram, it is not. It is war, and war is not heroic, it is cold and impersonal. And Wolfram knows that understanding this is vital to uniting the galaxy under human rule. In his mind, the purpose of the Astartes is to fight, bleed, and die for the common people of mankind. This war is not for the sake of the superhuman beings leading its charge, but in the name and defense of those who are not able to fight this battle themselves.

Skills: Some of his siblings are warrior-tacticians, champions who lead their armies into battle from the tip of the frontline. Others are statesmen and politicians, world builders who fight to preserve the conquest for the Imperium of the future. Wolfram is neither of these things. First and foremost he is a master of logistics and broad strategy, the movement and planning of an entire front, directing entire army groups across fronts spanning an entire continent, armadas patrolling an entire subsector. Though he carries arms and armor, they are not his true tools of battle. His weapon is the pen of a cartographer, his shield the map of a war theater, his armor the order directing distribution of forces, supply, and relief. While his siblings win personal glory and bring back trophies and tales of their accomplishments, Wolfram simply brings statistical reports of worlds reclaimed, supplies and forces lost, assets captured, and future plans. While he has the same natural aptitude and inherent talent for physical combat as all other Primarchs, in terms of proficiency, the more intimate the fight becomes, the harder it becomes for Wolfram to comprehend. His mind is not build to lead a squad, a single division, or a system fleet. It is honed and trained to direct the men and women that do, to ensure they are able to operate at their peak in their chosen field of engagement. In times of politicking and social networking, empire-building and leadership, Wolfram is the man tracking public opinion. He's the campaign manager to the man running for office. He abhors the public spotlight, as statistics and charts simply bore the common man, while a rousing speech can make parades out of the deaths of millions.

Assignment Grade: Kappa level, generally manifesting itself as a natural intuition or 'gut feeling' in how, when, and where to deploy assorted assets, units, and supplies. He has found that his seclusion of emotions tend to cause more intense manifestation of these 6th sense predictions, and he fears this is the herald of something more fierce to come.

Biography: The citizenry of Parrisan were one of the lucky human colony worlds that remained relatively unscathed by the fall of Pre-Imperium Humanity. Thus, when the incubation pod containing the lost Primarch crash-landed upon the world, near the center of the vast city, scientific and engineering research teams quickly arrived to investigate. Upon discovering the young Primarch, even their rudimentary(compared to the Imperium) equipment could see the vast power he carried. He was given to the Parrisanian government to be raised as a future head in the effort to rediscover nearby lost human colony worlds. Over time, both the young man dubbed Wolfram of Parrisan and his superiors and trainers saw that his mental intuition for force organization, supply line arrangement, and the broad front deployment of large-scale units was the only thing that rivaled his superhuman physique. In no time at all, the Parrisanian Star League expanded from a small pocket of three star systems to nearly the size of an entire modern Imperial Sub-Sector.

But with expansion comes conflict, and not all of it human. With the expansion of Parrisanian territory, the antiquated human war vessels came into contact with minor, yet devastating, Xenos races in several sections of their Rimward frontier. After a series of grueling campaigns in a multi-front war, and some expert maneuvering of forward fleets to keep the Xenos divided enough to prevent a united front, the war would be whittled down to the beleaguered Parrisanian Star League and the most prominent and successful Xenos force, known as the Lannoth. For much of the direct campaign against the Lannoth, even Wolfram's expert organization of the Parrisanian Armada could not prevent the front from steadily collapsing as their ships were forced to either pull back or win unstable Pyrrhic victories which would never last. The fortunes finally began to reverse when some of the most powerful vessels in the Lannoth fleets began to be withdrawn deep into their territory, giving Wolfram the perfect opportunity to break through, overwhelming their forces in the confusion of what Wolfram's intelligence determined was the arrival of another Human force to the Xenos' opposing flank.

Now caught in a two-front engagement, they would eventually collapse, with the two human forces with no prior contact finally meeting as they laid ground siege to the capital planet of the Xenos. The top commanding officer of the unknown Human forces made contact with the Parrisanian Star League, requesting a parlay between Wolfram and himself. Their smallest ships of the line were enough to obliterate even the most sophisticated of Parrisan's vessels, so the agreement was made almost immediately. The two met in orbit around the planet, via docking two shuttlecraft together in order to form a neutral meeting location. As soon as Wolfram met with the other force commander, he understood that it was not just their superior vessels that enabled this strange armada to annihilate the alien military.

The man exuded an intense aura of awe and wonder, despite simply appearing as a simple human man garbed in the standard military officer's uniform of his accompanying staff officers. However, the man was clearly the most brilliant leader not just in his nation, but likely within the entire galaxy. This man made it clear that he was not just the officer in charge of this theater of his war, but the supreme leader of the entire nation he hailed from, the Imperium of Man, ruler of the ancient human homeworld of Terra. Wolfram was more than accustomed to dealing with pompous political leaders who made far more grandiose claims than this, as he had served under far too many of them in his extended superhuman life as the chief military official within Parrisan. But unlike the others, this man was far more than all talk. His stance, his walk, and his voice carried himself as everything he claimed to be, and more.

A non-aggression agreement was made, with a further political discussion being planned after the mutual defeat of the last Xenos holdouts. The Emperor insisted on combining the ground forces of his Imperial Navy with the Parrisanian Star League Marines, so that Wolfram and himself could learn more about each others' strategic acumen on the ground as well as in the void.

After the defeat of the Lannoth, The Emperor requested that Wolfram direct him to the Chancellor of the World-City, who was convinced to abdicate his position to Wolfram almost immediately. Upon questioning why the Emperor had desired this, he made it all clear to Wolfram of Parrisan. He was one of the Emperor's Sons, the 20 Primarchs created specifically to lead mankind's most elite forces, that had been scattered across the galaxy by villainous enemies of mankind many years ago, and he had been gathering them ever since, while also seeking to reunite the scattered worlds of humanity. He desired Wolfram to join him in this war, and after much internal deliberation, Wolfram agreed. To Wolfram, this was a way to help ensure the broader protection of not just the people of the Parrisan Star League, but other people in both similar and less beneficial situations across the galaxy.

When reunited with his Legion of Astartes warriors and their Imperial Army contingents, Wolfram set about redesigning their force organization to better suit their equipment. The Astartes divisions would serve as the steel bone structure to the softer, more mortal forces of the Army in ground combat, while Astartes space vessels would act as command ships for Imperial fleets under his command. One of the gifts accompanying his Legion was his own Imperial flagship vessel, which he christened the Astra Urba, or Star City, as a counterpart to the World-City of his adopted homeworld.

In honor of the military force which he served with for years, his Legion would become dubbed the Imperial Star League, with the Parrisan Star League becoming the name of the Imperial Army units raised from his homeworld. In a bizarre decision that, like others, set Wolfram apart from his siblings, he made the executive decision to supply and recruit for the Imperial Star League as he had done with his former forces, by operating entirely from aboard voidships and drawing supplies and recruits for both the Army and the Astartes from Compliant worlds. The Astra Urba would operate as the primary field command center for controlling the entire front of his legion.

With this, much of Wolfram's actions in the subsequent crusade would see his entire Legion and their contingents operating in the same broad front, battling the same enemy in the same theater of war, overseen in the broadest strokes by the Primarch and carried down the chain of command. As such, Wolfram does not tell stories of scaling enemy super cannons or dueling Ork warbosses in a multi-hour hand to hand battle. Instead he simply provides progress reports on his divisions, offers and asks for suggestions on future courses of action, and confers with his siblings and father on how to manipulate his theater to assist the others.

This leaves Wolfram himself feeling much more at home with his cadre of Legionnaire staff officers and their Imperial Army counterparts, as they operate much in the same fashion, while subsequently isolated from many of the only beings that near him as an equal in any fashion. But there is a time for heroics in war, and a time for efficiency. It is better to leave the charges and speeches to those properly suited for it, while those with the mind for high-level command at the back where they can direct the wider-scale engagement.

The Meeting: The Parrisanian shuttle locked docking walkways with its far larger counterpart from the unknown fleet that had aided them against the aliens. The moment the vessels locked into place, Wolfram felt...small. Not just physically, but mentally, as though someone aboard the other vessel was watching him directly. Stepping into the airlock doorway as it hissed open in time with its counterpart on the other ship, this ethereal pressure grew more and more immense upon his mind. As they were directed through the halls by armed men far better equipped than the Parrisan Star League Marines. They escorted Wolfram and his small cadre of general staff officers to the bridge of the far more expansive shuttlecraft, inside which stood a trio of men, one of which simply radiated with the mental weight Wolfram had felt. This man is the one that addressed him.

“Ah, now the survival of your forces makes sense. You must be the mastermind of this conflict’s success on your end.”

Wolfram nodded slowly and carefully stepped forward a bit. This man’s presence seemed familiar. And Wolfram would swear the man grew in physical stature the more he glanced between him and the environment. Simultaneously both eager and fearful of learning more about this bizarre presence, he would extend a hand to the official. “Yes, I am Wolfram of Parrisan, Alpha Commander of the Parrisan Star League, sworn to service under the Chancellorship of the World-City.”

The unknown commander clasped Wolfram’s hand and shook it vigorously, and Wolfram noted that by this point, the hand was nearly as large as his own. For some reason, this did not strike Wolfram as nearly as unusual or questionable as it should have been, and no one else in the room seemed bothered by this man at all.

“Now, it's time I introduced myself and those under me. I battle in the name of the Imperium of Man, whose destiny it is to reunite all humans under one banner once again. Mine. I am the ruler of Terra, also known to many as Earth, the ancient homeworld of our race. I am the Emperor of Man.”

Wolfram could tell that this man was not like most who made such broad and elaborate claims. His words spoke true, not just in their literal meaning, but in the very fiber of his being, and it radiated from him and overwhelmed all before him like a tidal wave.

“I see. Well, Emperor, I am most pleased to meet another of similar ilk. I’m sure our respective nations would be more than eager for a beneficial agreement to arise between us.”

“True enough, Commander Wolfram. Let us conclude the matter at hand first, however. The last of these aliens are holed up in the planet below. Let’s command our forces side-by-side and wipe them from our galaxy.”

The campaign against the Lannoth ended in a complete victory for the sudden alliance of the Imperium of Man and the Parrisan Star League, with the world completely wiped of all sentient alien forces. After this total victory, the Parrisan Naval forces would escort those from the Imperium to the homeworld of Parrisan, ushering them down to the World-City below.

Wolfram and the Emperor would enter City Center, the capitol building and home to the Chancellor of Parrisan, currently a man known as Varis Quinten. Stopping outside the doorway to the Chancellor’s office, the Emperor turned to speak one last time to Wolfram before his personal meeting with Varis.

“Commander, you should know that I intend to have Parrisan sworn into loyalty within the Imperium, by force if absolutely necessary. From your character and our time together so far, I feel you will not object to such intentions, but should you wish to, make it known now and we will settle it with a fair challenge.”

Wolfram watched as the previously pleasant and welcoming look adorning the Emperor’s face since their initial meeting had shifted with the very air around them, growing stern and direly serious. With a solemn stare matching the Emperor’s own, he simply replied “I will not contest your claim. Make your proposal to the Chancellor, and all shall see the results.”

After this discussion, the Emperor gracefully entered the office, and with less than ten minutes of near silence coming from the office, exited with a much calmer and more welcoming look once again adorning his visage.

“The Chancellor has agreed to secede his condition to you, as long as you were to swear Parrisan and its surrounding worlds to fealty under the Imperium and myself. Do you accept these terms, Commander?”

Wolfram looked to the imposing figure before him, before slowly and carefully falling to one knee. Bowing his head, he spoke.

“I, Alpha Commander Wolfram of the Parrisan Star League do hereby swear myself and the worlds under my command into the service of the Imperium of Man and its Emperor of Mankind.”

“Rise, Wolfram of Parrisan, for there is more I must tell you.”

As he rose Wolfram’s eyebrow cocked in curiosity, and he could help but to speak.
“What else could there be, lord?”

“As I’m sure you’ve become aware at this point, there are unique circumstances of life surrounding myself, yourself, and our meeting. You’ve likely wondered about the origins of your immense stature and superior mental and physical aptitudes. These are my doing. Long ago I created 20 elite beings engineered from aspects of myself, but powers working against Mankind stripped me of them and scattered their infantile forms across the stars. However, from their design, I was able to derive warriors intended for my creations, my children, to lead as part of my conquest of the galaxy. You are one such creation, Wolfram of Parrisan. You are one of my lost sons, and at last I have found you.”

The Imperial Star League

Legion Name: Formerly dubbed by the Emperor as the Steel Angels, They were quickly renamed to the Imperial Star League by their Primarch as an homage to the original force he led, and their status as an extension of the Imperial Army and garrison forces from that world.

Legion Number: IV

Legion Strength: 100,000 Astartes

Armour Appearance:

Warcry: "For All Mankind!"

Dramatis Personae: The primary top members within the legion form what Primarch Wolfram refers to as his 'Star League General Staff', a tradition carried from the original Parrisan Star League. They consist of the single most skilled and senior officer or representative from each of the following Legion-affiliate organizations: The Astartes Ground Forces, Astartes Naval Forces, Imperial Army Ground Forces, and Imperial Army Naval Forces. They are as follows.

Marine General Germaine Varr: The top officer in command of the 4th Legion's Astartes ground divisions, and one that has been with the Legion longer than its own Primarch. He served as the Legion Master in the years before Wolfram's discovery, and thus has the most understanding of the Legion's force capabilities out of every member of the General Staff. He will not hesitate to cite this personal experience when recommending a different course of action to the Primarch, and often Wolfram will at least partially incorporate his suggestions every single time.

Marine Admiral Bethar Andaris:Easily the most experienced naval strategist bar the Primarch himself, and once a mortal serving alongside Wolfram as the Star Admiral of the Parrisan Star League Navy. Bethar was luckily youthful enough to survive conversion to a full and proper Astartes, though his experience serving alongside Wolfram prior to his discovery by the Emperor has honed his mind in line with that of a staff officer. Much like Wolfram himself, the man excels far more as a strategic mind at the bridge of an operation's flagship than leading the ground battle, despite being physically an Astartes rather than a normal human. He's easily Wolfram's most trusted adviser and comrade, and would likely take his place as a new Legion Master should the Primarch have to leave the Legion for an extended period.

Imperial General Ophiel Santar: Germaine's mortal counterpart, and the best infantry senior officer the 4th Legion could get its hands on. During his service as a commissioned member of the Imperial Army, he's been shuffled around between Legion attachments to gather experience in commanding such large troop deployments, before eventually finding a permanent home as the head of the Imperial Army's ground attachment to the Star League. He's heavily focused on cooperation with Germaine, as the Legion's tactics involve the Astartes ground forces to serve as the solid frame the Army divisions are formed up around. He frequently doesn't have much to add to staff meetings himself, preferring to bring reports and defer to the wisdom of the ageless Astartes and their Primarch.

Imperial Admiral Michael Kyrax: Originally the Imperial Naval Liaison aboard Bethar's flagship, when Bethar was elevated to the General Staff upon its formalized creation, Michael came with him. Where Bethar is the aggressive spearhead of the Star League's fleet battleplans, Michael is the tempered shield, ensuring the battlegroups do not advance too far to stretch the supply lines or risk being cut off without their screening support. He's renowned in both the Imperial and Astartes ranks as one of the few mortals who can talk down the fiery passion of an Astartes.

Favored Tactics/Battlefield Role: When the Legion deploys, it is always in a mix of Marine and Imperial forces. Marine Divisions or Naval vessels are used as firm puncturing formations to pierce the opposing front while being screened in its advance by heavy Imperial ground and Naval forces respectively. Astartes and Imperial ground forces both deploy as Heavy Mechanized Infantry, utilizing heavily armed and armored infantry fighting vehicles supported with heavy tanks and self-propelled artillery. In naval engagements, the Astartes vessels are heavy battleships designed solely to fight ship-to-ship, with the Imperial screens meant to provide voidfighter cover and longer-range anti-armor fire. Airfighters are used to deny enemy air superiority when it is an issue, but are otherwise dedicated to bombing strategic military targets prior to an advance from the Legion's lines. Orbital strikes and other 'superweapon' attacks are frowned upon unless it is assumed that the world cannot be reclaimed, then all possible assets and personnel are withdrawn and the entire naval presence in orbit commences bombardment.

Legion Characteristics/Ideology: When a world has reached acceptable levels of Compliance or is otherwise garrisoned by members of the legion, every member capable of doing so actively assists in reconstruction and relief efforts. A Marine in the legion can transition from firing on rebelling militias to helping the survivors of an airbombing rebuild their homes at a moments notice. The founding philosophy of the Legion is that of the belief that if they do not help the victims of war, then no one will, and that the latter is an unacceptable failure of the Imperium's duty to defend humanity. To the Star League, the Crusade is first and foremost a quest to reunify and consolidate the human race, and ensure their safety and security among the stars. As such, when combating human rebellions, they focus their efforts onto military targets as much as possible, and are far more concerned about civilian casualties and defending refugees than ensuring a rapid victory. In the mind of a member of the Star League, maximizing surviving loyalist innocents is more important than any other aspect of the war, and as such the first thing ever included in a battle report is the number of civilians and loyalist local defense units rescued. In engagements with Xenos forces, rescuing humans takes even more of a precedent, with the goal being to defend their escape and ensure their complete evacuation off-planet above all else. Their dedication is best embodied with a large plaque monument found within their flagship, the Astra Urbe, which contains carvings of the name of every single being killed or presumed dead in service to the legion, both Astartes and mortals alike. The Astartes believe their conversion is a gift given to the Legions to defend those not able to do so themselves, a belief best embodied in their motto and warcry “For all mankind!”

Relationships: Because the Star League heavily integrate ground and space forces from the Imperial Army into their regular combat formations, many in their legion detachments and even those having temporarily served with them in command have come to view them as more "like the grunts" than expected, and casual conversations between Marines and Imperial Army personnel stationed together is very common. Given their penchant for recruiting and training reinforcements from worlds being garrisoned before they depart, many of the Astartes and Army members within the Legion come from a largely diverse set of cultural and ethnic backgrounds, giving the 'camp culture' on both their vessels and on-planet a distinct variety and uniqueness. Their reliance on heavy usage of space travel means they have many contacts and connections with the Navigator families and the Astra Telepathica as well.

The Grim Crusade - A Warhammer 30000 RP

Figured this revision had taken me long enough for it to be its own post, hopefully everything with this version works out!
EDIT: Hopefully this is the last of the typo proofreading needed.

Primarch Wolfram of Parrisan

Name: Wolfram of Parrisan

Gender: Male

Homeworld: The Hive City World of Parrisan. Unlike other Hive Cities found on human worlds, the single megacity of Parrisan, known as the World-City, is a vast horizontal urban sprawl covering much of a world bearing terrain similar to 3rd Millennium-era Terra, opposed to the general design of enormous spire cities. The main source of conflict, strife, and danger came not from the world itself, but from the nearby locations in the void of space, for at the time of his arrival, Parrison was a minor spacefaring multi-world nation, bent on its own claims to undiscovered human worlds and technology.

Appearance: Wolfram resembles the common flavors of ancient North Europe stock, fair skin and hair, with a brighter verdant green eye color. In physical build and height, Wolfram is the best example of what would be the closest to a ‘stock Primarch’ were there ever such a thing. He stands at roughly 11 feet tall, with a build that towers over others, but with proportions more in line with one who does not actively serve in combat and instead keeps fit through physical regimens. When it comes to the armored battle regalia of a Primarch, Wolfram is as much an outlier as he is militarily, favoring a lighter suit of custom powered armor more resembling a souped-up suit of Astartes Scout armor rather than the standard large battle armor donned by the frontline fighters of the Imperium. He also bears a power sword resembling the depictions of the ancient Terran mythological sword Excalibur, a traditional English longsword with a golden rectangular crossguard and matching rounded pommel, with his sidearm being a Bolt Pistol that to the untrained eye would seem to match those carried by all other Astartes officers, but is carefully engraved with lines resembling the travel layout of the entire World-City of Parrisan.

Personality: Wolfram is quiet. Eerily quiet. He is the bookkeeper that stands just alongside the mob boss in his chair. The financier next to the CEO at a board meeting. The adviser who speaks only in whispers in the king's ear. The trusted first officer always at the side of the naval captain. In a galaxy of generals, statesmen, warmongers, tyrants, and heroes, Wolfram is the 'man behind the throne' often found throughout the history of mankind. As such, in meetings between his siblings, their father, and others of importance in the Imperial government and military, Wolfram is often the only attendant who almost never speaks, answering questions and making statements in the most direct way possible, with no fanfare or righteous anger. When he reports of conflict, everything is presented akin to statistics on a clipboard, or data in a spreadsheet. This often puts him at odds with those who see the Crusade as a righteous quest or a grandiose adventure. To Wolfram, it is not. It is war, and war is not heroic, it is cold and impersonal. And Wolfram knows that understanding this is vital to uniting the galaxy under human rule. In his mind, the purpose of the Astartes is to fight, bleed, and die for the common people of mankind. This war is not for the sake of the superhuman beings leading its charge, but in the name and defense of those who are not able to fight this battle themselves.

Skills: Some of his siblings are warrior-tacticians, champions who lead their armies into battle from the tip of the frontline. Others are statesmen and politicians, world builders who fight to preserve the conquest for the Imperium of the future. Wolfram is neither of these things. First and foremost he is a master of logistics and broad strategy, the movement and planning of an entire front, directing entire army groups across fronts spanning an entire continent, armadas patrolling an entire subsector. Though he carries arms and armor, they are not his true tools of battle. His weapon is the pen of a cartographer, his shield the map of a war theater, his armor the order directing distribution of forces, supply, and relief. While his siblings win personal glory and bring back trophies and tales of their accomplishments, Wolfram simply brings statistical reports of worlds reclaimed, supplies and forces lost, assets captured, and future plans. While he has the same natural aptitude and inherent talent for physical combat as all other Primarchs, in terms of proficiency, the more intimate the fight becomes, the harder it becomes for Wolfram to comprehend. His mind is not build to lead a squad, a single division, or a system fleet. It is honed and trained to direct the men and women that do, to ensure they are able to operate at their peak in their chosen field of engagement. In times of politicking and social networking, empire-building and leadership, Wolfram is the man tracking public opinion. He's the campaign manager to the man running for office. He abhors the public spotlight, as statistics and charts simply bore the common man, while a rousing speech can make parades out of the deaths of millions.

Assignment Grade: Kappa level, generally manifesting itself as a natural intuition or 'gut feeling' in how, when, and where to deploy assorted assets, units, and supplies. He has found that his seclusion of emotions tend to cause more intense manifestation of these 6th sense predictions, and he fears this is the herald of something more fierce to come.

Biography: The citizenry of Parrisan were one of the lucky human colony worlds that remained relatively unscathed by the fall of Pre-Imperium Humanity. Thus, when the incubation pod containing the lost Primarch crash-landed upon the world, near the center of the vast city, scientific and engineering research teams quickly arrived to investigate. Upon discovering the young Primarch, even their rudimentary(compared to the Imperium) equipment could see the vast power he carried. He was given to the Parrisanian government to be raised as a future head in the effort to rediscover nearby lost human colony worlds. Over time, both the young man dubbed Wolfram of Parrisan and his superiors and trainers saw that his mental intuition for force organization, supply line arrangement, and the broad front deployment of large-scale units was the only thing that rivaled his superhuman physique. In no time at all, the Parrisanian Star League expanded from a small pocket of three star systems to nearly the size of an entire modern Imperial Sub-Sector.

But with expansion comes conflict, and not all of it human. With the expansion of Parrisanian territory, the antiquated human war vessels came into contact with minor, yet devastating, Xenos races in several sections of their Rimward frontier. After a series of grueling campaigns in a multi-front war, and some expert maneuvering of forward fleets to keep the Xenos divided enough to prevent a united front, the war would be whittled down to the beleaguered Parrisanian Star League and the most prominent and successful Xenos force, known as the Lannoth. For much of the direct campaign against the Lannoth, even Wolfram's expert organization of the Parrisanian Armada could not prevent the front from steadily collapsing as their ships were forced to either pull back or win unstable Pyrrhic victories which would never last. The fortunes finally began to reverse when some of the most powerful vessels in the Lannoth fleets began to be withdrawn deep into their territory, giving Wolfram the perfect opportunity to break through, overwhelming their forces in the confusion of what Wolfram's intelligence determined was the arrival of another Human force to the Xenos' opposing flank.

Now caught in a two-front engagement, they would eventually collapse, with the two human forces with no prior contact finally meeting as they laid ground siege to the capital planet of the Xenos. The top commanding officer of the unknown Human forces made contact with the Parrisanian Star League, requesting a parlay between Wolfram and himself. Their smallest ships of the line were enough to obliterate even the most sophisticated of Parrisan's vessels, so the agreement was made almost immediately. The two met in orbit around the planet, via docking two shuttlecraft together in order to form a neutral meeting location. As soon as Wolfram met with the other force commander, he understood that it was not just their superior vessels that enabled this strange armada to annihilate the alien military.

The man exuded an intense aura of awe and wonder, despite simply appearing as a simple human man garbed in the standard military officer's uniform of his accompanying staff officers. However, the man was clearly the most brilliant leader not just in his nation, but likely within the entire galaxy. This man made it clear that he was not just the officer in charge of this theater of his war, but the supreme leader of the entire nation he hailed from, the Imperium of Man, ruler of the ancient human homeworld of Terra. Wolfram was more than accustomed to dealing with pompous political leaders who made far more grandiose claims than this, as he had served under far too many of them in his extended superhuman life as the chief military official within Parrisan. But unlike the others, this man was far more than all talk. His stance, his walk, and his voice carried himself as everything he claimed to be, and more.

A non-aggression agreement was made, with a further political discussion being planned after the mutual defeat of the last Xenos holdouts. The Emperor insisted on combining the ground forces of his Imperial Navy with the Parrisanian Star League Marines, so that Wolfram and himself could learn more about each others' strategic acumen on the ground as well as in the void.

After the defeat of the Lannoth, The Emperor requested that Wolfram direct him to the Chancellor of the World-City, who was convinced to abdicate his position to Wolfram almost immediately. Upon questioning why the Emperor had desired this, he made it all clear to Wolfram of Parrisan. He was one of the Emperor's Sons, the 20 Primarchs created specifically to lead mankind's most elite forces, that had been scattered across the galaxy by villainous enemies of mankind many years ago, and he had been gathering them ever since, while also seeking to reunite the scattered worlds of humanity. He desired Wolfram to join him in this war, and after much internal deliberation, Wolfram agreed. To Wolfram, this was a way to help ensure the broader protection of not just the people of the Parrisan Star League, but other people in both similar and less beneficial situations across the galaxy.

When reunited with his Legion of Astartes warriors and their Imperial Army contingents, Wolfram set about redesigning their force organization to better suit their equipment. The Astartes divisions would serve as the steel bone structure to the softer, more mortal forces of the Army in ground combat, while Astartes space vessels would act as command ships for Imperial fleets under his command. One of the gifts accompanying his Legion was his own Imperial flagship vessel, which he christened the Astra Urba, or Star City, as a counterpart to the World-City of his adopted homeworld.

In honor of the military force which he served with for years, his Legion would become dubbed the Imperial Star League, with the Parrisan Star League becoming the name of the Imperial Army units raised from his homeworld. In a bizarre decision that, like others, set Wolfram apart from his siblings, he made the executive decision to supply and recruit for the Imperial Star League as he had done with his former forces, by operating entirely from aboard voidships and drawing supplies and recruits for both the Army and the Astartes from Compliant worlds. The Astra Urba would operate as the primary field command center for controlling the entire front of his legion.

With this, much of Wolfram's actions in the subsequent crusade would see his entire Legion and their contingents operating in the same broad front, battling the same enemy in the same theater of war, overseen in the broadest strokes by the Primarch and carried down the chain of command. As such, Wolfram does not tell stories of scaling enemy super cannons or dueling Ork warbosses in a multi-hour hand to hand battle. Instead he simply provides progress reports on his divisions, offers and asks for suggestions on future courses of action, and confers with his siblings and father on how to manipulate his theater to assist the others.

This leaves Wolfram himself feeling much more at home with his cadre of Legionnaire staff officers and their Imperial Army counterparts, as they operate much in the same fashion, while subsequently isolated from many of the only beings that near him as an equal in any fashion. But there is a time for heroics in war, and a time for efficiency. It is better to leave the charges and speeches to those properly suited for it, while those with the mind for high-level command at the back where they can direct the wider-scale engagement.

The Meeting: The Parrisanian shuttle locked docking walkways with its far larger counterpart from the unknown fleet that had aided them against the aliens. The moment the vessels locked into place, Wolfram felt...small. Not just physically, but mentally, as though someone aboard the other vessel was watching him directly. Stepping into the airlock doorway as it hissed open in time with its counterpart on the other ship, this ethereal pressure grew more and more immense upon his mind. As they were directed through the halls by armed men far better equipped than the Parrisan Star League Marines. They escorted Wolfram and his small cadre of general staff officers to the bridge of the far more expansive shuttlecraft, inside which stood a trio of men, one of which simply radiated with the mental weight Wolfram had felt. This man is the one that addressed him.

“Ah, now the survival of your forces makes sense. You must be the mastermind of this conflict’s success on your end.”

Wolfram nodded slowly and carefully stepped forward a bit. This man’s presence seemed familiar. And Wolfram would swear the man grew in physical stature the more he glanced between him and the environment. Simultaneously both eager and fearful of learning more about this bizarre presence, he would extend a hand to the official. “Yes, I am Wolfram of Parrisan, Alpha Commander of the Parrisan Star League, sworn to service under the Chancellorship of the World-City.”

The unknown commander clasped Wolfram’s hand and shook it vigorously, and Wolfram noted that by this point, the hand was nearly as large as his own. For some reason, this did not strike Wolfram as nearly as unusual or questionable as it should have been, and no one else in the room seemed bothered by this man at all.

“Now, it's time I introduced myself and those under me. I battle in the name of the Imperium of Man, whose destiny it is to reunite all humans under one banner once again. Mine. I am the ruler of Terra, also known to many as Earth, the ancient homeworld of our race. I am the Emperor of Man.”

Wolfram could tell that this man was not like most who made such broad and elaborate claims. His words spoke true, not just in their literal meaning, but in the very fiber of his being, and it radiated from him and overwhelmed all before him like a tidal wave.

“I see. Well, Emperor, I am most pleased to meet another of similar ilk. I’m sure our respective nations would be more than eager for a beneficial agreement to arise between us.”

“True enough, Commander Wolfram. Let us conclude the matter at hand first, however. The last of these aliens are holed up in the planet below. Let’s command our forces side-by-side and wipe them from our galaxy.”

The campaign against the Lannoth ended in a complete victory for the sudden alliance of the Imperium of Man and the Parrisan Star League, with the world completely wiped of all sentient alien forces. After this total victory, the Parrisan Naval forces would escort those from the Imperium to the homeworld of Parrisan, ushering them down to the World-City below.

Wolfram and the Emperor would enter City Center, the capitol building and home to the Chancellor of Parrisan, currently a man known as Varis Quinten. Stopping outside the doorway to the Chancellor’s office, the Emperor turned to speak one last time to Wolfram before his personal meeting with Varis.

“Commander, you should know that I intend to have Parrisan sworn into loyalty within the Imperium, by force if absolutely necessary. From your character and our time together so far, I feel you will not object to such intentions, but should you wish to, make it known now and we will settle it with a fair challenge.”

Wolfram watched as the previously pleasant and welcoming look adorning the Emperor’s face since their initial meeting had shifted with the very air around them, growing stern and direly serious. With a solemn stare matching the Emperor’s own, he simply replied “I will not contest your claim. Make your proposal to the Chancellor, and all shall see the results.”

After this discussion, the Emperor gracefully entered the office, and with less than ten minutes of near silence coming from the office, exited with a much calmer and more welcoming look once again adorning his visage.

“The Chancellor has agreed to secede his condition to you, as long as you were to swear Parrisan and its surrounding worlds to fealty under the Imperium and myself. Do you accept these terms, Commander?”

Wolfram looked to the imposing figure before him, before slowly and carefully falling to one knee. Bowing his head, he spoke.

“I, Alpha Commander Wolfram of the Parrisan Star League do hereby swear myself and the worlds under my command into the service of the Imperium of Man and its Emperor of Mankind.”

“Rise, Wolfram of Parrisan, for there is more I must tell you.”

As he rose Wolfram’s eyebrow cocked in curiosity, and he could help but to speak.
“What else could there be, lord?”

“As I’m sure you’ve become aware at this point, there are unique circumstances of life surrounding myself, yourself, and our meeting. You’ve likely wondered about the origins of your immense stature and superior mental and physical aptitudes. These are my doing. Long ago I created 20 elite beings engineered from aspects of myself, but powers working against Mankind stripped me of them and scattered their infantile forms across the stars. However, from their design, I was able to derive warriors intended for my creations, my children, to lead as part of my conquest of the galaxy. You are one such creation, Wolfram of Parrisan. You are one of my lost sons, and at last I have found you.”

The Imperial Star League

Legion Name: Formerly dubbed by the Emperor as the Steel Angels, They were quickly renamed to the Imperial Star League by their Primarch as an homage to the original force he led, and their status as an extension of the Imperial Army and garrison forces from that world.

Legion Number: IV

Legion Strength: 100,000 Astartes

Armour Appearance:

Warcry: "For All Mankind!"

Dramatis Personae: The primary top members within the legion form what Primarch Wolfram refers to as his 'Star League General Staff', a tradition carried from the original Parrisan Star League. They consist of the single most skilled and senior officer or representative from each of the following Legion-affiliate organizations: The Astartes Ground Forces, Astartes Naval Forces, Imperial Army Ground Forces, and Imperial Army Naval Forces. They are as follows.

Marine General Germaine Varr: The top officer in command of the 4th Legion's Astartes ground divisions, and one that has been with the Legion longer than its own Primarch. He served as the Legion Master in the years before Wolfram's discovery, and thus has the most understanding of the Legion's force capabilities out of every member of the General Staff. He will not hesitate to cite this personal experience when recommending a different course of action to the Primarch, and often Wolfram will at least partially incorporate his suggestions every single time.

Marine Admiral Bethar Andaris:Easily the most experienced naval strategist bar the Primarch himself, and once a mortal serving alongside Wolfram as the Star Admiral of the Parrisan Star League Navy. Bethar was luckily youthful enough to survive conversion to a full and proper Astartes, though his experience serving alongside Wolfram prior to his discovery by the Emperor has honed his mind in line with that of a staff officer. Much like Wolfram himself, the man excels far more as a strategic mind at the bridge of an operation's flagship than leading the ground battle, despite being physically an Astartes rather than a normal human. He's easily Wolfram's most trusted adviser and comrade, and would likely take his place as a new Legion Master should the Primarch have to leave the Legion for an extended period.

Imperial General Ophiel Santar: Germaine's mortal counterpart, and the best infantry senior officer the 4th Legion could get its hands on. During his service as a commissioned member of the Imperial Army, he's been shuffled around between Legion attachments to gather experience in commanding such large troop deployments, before eventually finding a permanent home as the head of the Imperial Army's ground attachment to the Star League. He's heavily focused on cooperation with Germaine, as the Legion's tactics involve the Astartes ground forces to serve as the solid frame the Army divisions are formed up around. He frequently doesn't have much to add to staff meetings himself, preferring to bring reports and defer to the wisdom of the ageless Astartes and their Primarch.

Imperial Admiral Michael Kyrax: Originally the Imperial Naval Liaison aboard Bethar's flagship, when Bethar was elevated to the General Staff upon its formalized creation, Michael came with him. Where Bethar is the aggressive spearhead of the Star League's fleet battleplans, Michael is the tempered shield, ensuring the battlegroups do not advance too far to stretch the supply lines or risk being cut off without their screening support. He's renowned in both the Imperial and Astartes ranks as one of the few mortals who can talk down the fiery passion of an Astartes.

Favored Tactics/Battlefield Role: When the Legion deploys, it is always in a mix of Marine and Imperial forces. Marine Divisions or Naval vessels are used as firm puncturing formations to pierce the opposing front while being screened in its advance by heavy Imperial ground and Naval forces respectively. Astartes and Imperial ground forces both deploy as Heavy Mechanized Infantry, utilizing heavily armed and armored infantry fighting vehicles supported with heavy tanks and self-propelled artillery. In naval engagements, the Astartes vessels are heavy battleships designed solely to fight ship-to-ship, with the Imperial screens meant to provide voidfighter cover and longer-range anti-armor fire. Airfighters are used to deny enemy air superiority when it is an issue, but are otherwise dedicated to bombing strategic military targets prior to an advance from the Legion's lines. Orbital strikes and other 'superweapon' attacks are frowned upon unless it is assumed that the world cannot be reclaimed, then all possible assets and personnel are withdrawn and the entire naval presence in orbit commences bombardment.

Legion Characteristics/Ideology: When a world has reached acceptable levels of Compliance or is otherwise garrisoned by members of the legion, every member capable of doing so actively assists in reconstruction and relief efforts. A Marine in the legion can transition from firing on rebelling militias to helping the survivors of an airbombing rebuild their homes at a moments notice. The founding philosophy of the Legion is that of the belief that if they do not help the victims of war, then no one will, and that the latter is an unacceptable failure of the Imperium's duty to defend humanity. To the Star League, the Crusade is first and foremost a quest to reunify and consolidate the human race, and ensure their safety and security among the stars. As such, when combating human rebellions, they focus their efforts onto military targets as much as possible, and are far more concerned about civilian casualties and defending refugees than ensuring a rapid victory. In the mind of a member of the Star League, maximizing surviving loyalist innocents is more important than any other aspect of the war, and as such the first thing ever included in a battle report is the number of civilians and loyalist local defense units rescued. In engagements with Xenos forces, rescuing humans takes even more of a precedent, with the goal being to defend their escape and ensure their complete evacuation off-planet above all else. The Astartes conversion is a gift given to the Legions to defend those not able to do so themselves, a belief best embodied in their motto and warcry “For all mankind!”

Relationships: Because the Star League heavily integrate ground and space forces from the Imperial Army into their regular combat formations, many in their legion detachments and even those having temporarily served with them in command have come to view them as more "like the grunts" than expected, and casual conversations between Marines and Imperial Army personnel stationed together is very common. Given their penchant for recruiting and training reinforcements from worlds being garrisoned before they depart, many of the Astartes and Army members within the Legion come from a largely diverse set of cultural and ethnic backgrounds, giving the 'camp culture' on both their vessels and on-planet a distinct variety and uniqueness. Their reliance on heavy usage of space travel means they have many contacts and connections with the Navigator families and the Astra Telepathica as well.

Star Trek: The New Order

Lt. Commander Clarke

>DECLASSIFIED DOCUMENT FROM
>BUREAU OF STARFLEET PERSONNEL
>STARFLEET COMMAND, SAN FRANCISCO, NORTH AMERICAN REGION, EARTH
>SOL SYSTEM, SECTOR 001.
>FOR OFFICIAL USE ONLY

LEGAL NAME: John Barrett Clarke
RANK AND PAYGRADE: Lieutenant Commander (O4)
AGE: 32
PLACE OF ORIGIN: Indianapolis, Indiana, North American Region, Earth, Sol System

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE: Human male, 187cm and 80kg. Pale white skin with a hygenic, clear complexion. Hazel eyes inset in deep sockets that accent the overall angular facial frame. Hair is kept at regulation length, but is frequently disheveled and poorly groomed. Thick lens glasses rest squarely on the bridge of his nose, but frequently slide down and are subsequently pressed back up. Physically maintains the standards of health expected by Starfleet, but nothing beyond that. A large scar, one which should be faint but is distinctly more noticeable due to Clarke's pale color, arcs across his torso, with another scar across his right forearm lining up as a continuation of the same cut.

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE:
Profile conducted by Lt. Gerard Sloan, M.D. on Stardate 64033, at Starbase 39-Sierra, Kaleb Sector
"Lt. Commander Clarke would be the captain of his own science vessel by now, had he been around twenty years earlier. The man is extremely dedicated to his work, and embodies the virtues of exploration, discovery, and peaceful contact. He's an expert Xenoanthropologist, but his utter disdain for the increased emphasis on the military arm of Starfleet is more than obvious to even the most casual observer. Future assignments should make note of this to prevent hostilities and harassment.

SERVICE RECORD (With annotations, as per BUSTARPERS S-5412):
Stardate 50718: Enrolled into Starfleet Academy as a Sciences cadet, major of Xenoanthropology.
Stardate 53960: Assigned to lead student field research time at a cultural excavation site on Vulcan as part of a 6-month graduating thesis research plan.
Stardate 54392: Graduated as part of class 802 from Starfleet Academy, commissioned as an Ensign.
Stardate 54521: Assigned to Science Station D-4 as the juniormost member of a research team cooperating with Vulcan and Romulan counterparts in a continued effort to trace the two races' common lineage.
Stardate 55555: Awarded Space Service Medal for one years service on space duty.
Stardate 56173: Awarded Meritorious Service Ribbon and promoted to Lieutenant.
Annotation by Commander Virat, son of Vol: "Both the award and promotion given as reward for exemplary work in leading the field team responsible for discovering a vital link in the Romulan exodus in the Devolin system, following analysis of ancient starmaps recovered on Nimbus III."
Stardate 58252: Reassigned to Starbase 39-Sierra following Borg attack on Nimbus III placing Science Station D-4 at extreme risk. Research team originally established at Station D-4 dissolved, Lt. Clarke made member of an Exopsychological liason program to assist Federation-friendly assets in Romulan space recovering from both the Borg incursion and the fallout of the Reman Coup.
Stardate 61596: Awarded Starfleet Wound Badge in Silver and promoted to Lt. Commander following attack by lone Tal Shiar loyalist.
Annotation by Commander Avery Watson: "Promoted as a reward for occupying the assailant until security forces arrived. Clarke suffered an extensive laceration across his chest and right arm from a blade carried by the attacker."
Stardate 64581: Following confirmation of the destruction of Romulus, Lt. Commander Clarke worked to help spearhead the refugee incorporation program at Starbase 39-Sierra, conducting extensive efforts to connect refugees with accepting cultural communities and climatal habitats.
Stardate 64603: Reassigned last-minute to the USS Vigilance (NCC-56912) from Starbase 39-Sierra along with the remainder of the former Science Station D-4 Romulan Xenoanthropological research team.
Annotation by Admiral Zelle: "This team needs to be out in the field again, they're going a bit stir-crazy stuck here in the middle of all this. Put them to good use, Strenn."