A Tactical Squad of the Sons of Horus fights with a fluidity that surprised many an enemy commander accustomed to the more rigid doctrines of other Legions, shifting between suppressive fire and sudden, decisive advances at the first sign of weakness in an opposing line. This adaptability was no accident; Horus trained his Legion to treat the battlefield as a living puzzle rather than a set of prescribed maneuvers, and every sergeant learned to read the ebb of combat and commit fully the moment an opening appeared.
After Davin, that same tactical hunger curdled into something colder and more predatory, Tactical Squads pressing advantages with a ruthlessness that no longer bothered to distinguish between honorable victory and outright annihilation. Legionaries who once fought for the glory of the primarch's name continued to do so, but the meaning of that glory had shifted entirely, each volley and advance now bent toward the Warmaster's rebellion rather than the Emperor's dream.