General Kurov was one of the most gifted officers in Imperial history. Upon
retirement, he recorded dozens of tactical treatises that were translated into voxghosts
by the Adeptus Mechanicus and uploaded into a two-headed avian servitor
referred to as ‘Kurov’s Aquila’. A senior officer who possesses this prestigious tool
can turn to it for tactical guidance, addressing his questions to the hunched
machine-bird. In response, the servitor’s blindfolded head will vocalise the most
relevant vox-ghost in Kurov’s stentorian tones. The other head’s eyes glow above its
bound-shut beak as they project a hololithic display of Kurov himself, arms folded
and dress uniform immaculate, his imago flickering as it reveals the secrets of the
foe.

Built into the gold-chased skull of Lord Commander Lucellin Tyberius himself, this
device contains a web of psycho-circuitry containing Tyberius’ memory engrams and
tactical acumen – and with it, his curmudgeonly and overbearing personality. Borne
aloft by its own gravitic motors, the device observes and evaluates an officer’s
decisions. The moment it considers an order poorly chosen, the skull cuts into the
vox and loudly overrides its exasperated owner. In imperious, static-laden tones, the
auto-reliquary will countermand the officer’s orders and issue a barrage of its own
from Tyberius’ store of tactical insights.

The Laurels of Command are a callous and controversial means to ensure obedience.
Concealed within their peerless artistry is a band of empathic-impulsion circuitry
which allows the wearer limited control over the minds of indoctrinated individuals
via subliminal suggestion. Under their effects even cowards fight to the last, while
orders are executed in perfect synchronisation. However, if the officer wearing the
Laurels is slain, the echoes of his death can leave his subordinates reeling in
confusion.