Chapter Content
The 81st's regimental commander was a man with a short fuse. He came up in his scout vehicle, saw his soldiers' bodies on the ground, said something unprintable, raised a PDF-pattern submachinegun, and emptied a magazine into the sky.
"Which one of you Emperor-forsaken wastes of gene-stock killed my men?! Step forward!!"
He had a big voice and a fearsome reputation and he was accustomed to both doing the work for him.
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