Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 12 Can you pursue it a little bit?
  Early morning
  Destiny Steel (Iron-Blooded)
  lower deck
  unknown corner
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  The two men, hiding themselves under the black hooded burqa, exchanged words with each other with gestures in the wide sleeves.

One of them left in a hurry, while the other waited in place and changed his position.

After a while, the third man in black appeared alertly.

They nodded to each other, then extended their hands and started talking with gestures under the cover of their sleeves.

[Are you sure it’s safe here? 】

【Relatively speaking. I've been observing for a long time, and my master's monitoring intervals here have become longer recently in the early morning hours. 】

【This is too risky! If we are discovered, we may all end up in hell beasts! 】

[It is also possible that before entering the hell beast, we have already transformed into the depraved and debauched appearance of our miserable cousins. 】

Hearing this, the latter seemed to be convinced immediately. He shifted his weight uneasily, [Then what are your plans? 】

The first man in black thought.

[First of all, have you smelled a strange smell or fragrance recently when your father appeared? It feels like...fur, spit, fermented grains and incense. 】

[So you smelled it too? I thought it was some unknown small animal that had entered the ventilation system, and asked the maintenance team to climb in with armed servitors for inspection. 】

[Looks like everyone smelled it. Combined with previous experience, I think this is a suspicious point, and we should start from here...]
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  After a large purchase, the Destiny Steel left the port fully loaded with resources and new crew members, and was sailing to a certain destination in accordance with the wishes of the Iron Lord.

What? I would like to ask those who make normal purchases where do the funds come from? Then ask Perturabo’s Dream Wine Stock.

Petula Boben's dog's comment on this is: ...Anyway, a dog can neither eat grapes nor drink alcohol; anyway, I can neither kill him nor kill him!
  Considering that in addition to the slave trade, other people at the port *showed their magical powers* were also quite generous in their purchases. It will not take long to find out about a "man with a Mechanicum priest, stationed by Astartes, and driving a moon-level barge." The news that a wealthy rogue trader has entered this sector will spread.

When traveling in space, you can say that there are many things going on at every moment, or you can say that there are very few things going on.

If a ship in decent condition is to sail safely in today's universe, if it does not plan to rely too much on the Supreme Sky, the wind of ether, metaphysics and mysticism in addition to the Star Torch, then it will require a lot of boring, repetitive but necessary daily maintenance. and maintenance.

Even though the Iron Blood has an extremely high degree of automation and carries a large number of Iron Ring robots - someone still needs to maintain and monitor these machines.

In the past, Perturabo himself only needed to allocate a small amount of computing power to complete most of the preparatory work, but recently the Iron Lord claimed that he needed to devote his energy to more important undertakings - so he was busy and worked overtime repeatedly. A day constitutes the main part of the crew's daily work these days, and Reca coffee is in short supply in both the officers' mess and the lower mess.

Oh, if you don’t count two things:
  The Iron Warriors' frequent mysterious and unexpected "minor accidents" and the words of the wizard who often triggers the anti-psionic stance in various forbidden areas and disappears mysteriously - the think tank.

"Perturabo", which has received countless damage control reports, has ordered that no one is allowed to use rituals, spells, weapons and body parts to cause casualties in the work area of ​​the ship, and that the gladiatorial cage must be removed! Strip me naked and beat me hard!

Honso has undoubtedly done a very good job as the Primarch's personal *regular* pharmacist. The fearless elder's condition has been completely stabilized, and he is supplied with enough sedatives and nutrients every day; and thirty unfinished people have been treated by his hands. The implantation of the suspended meninges was completed, and the drug shock and hypnosis training were also very smooth.

It is said that he is now very obsessed with such things as "how to perform nineteen Astartes transformation surgeries under the most primitive conditions", "how to quickly collect the gene seeds of both sides when surrounded and attacked and in battles" and "how to use them efficiently "Gene Seed Production Capacity" and other topics, but he still did not forget to submit detailed physical examination reports for the recruits on time.

Perturabo flipped through the data pad, "Igor, Marco, Maxim, Vitalier... Julius who must be noticed?"

Oh, no surprise, that golden-haired kid with a scheming face is... hmm? A newly awakened psyker? Showing more signs of psychic powers as the surgery progresses? And the psychic level prediction will be very good? Suggest arranging think tank training? Are you kidding...

Bian Mu was sitting on his sofa throne full of monitor screens. After processing the latest medical report in deep thought, he raised his head. What he saw made him roar again.

"Lamizane Carosini! What are you doing?! Where are the daily reports on the internal monitoring of the ship?!"

"Well, it's still too late before the deadline. I think I'll make a water blower first..."

The dog looked at the other person with a look that said, "Have you () () () been tricked into Tzeentch's head again?"

"Pepe." Lamizane connected the water blower hose in his hand and walked seriously to the border shepherd.

Perturabo's ears stood up alertly, his muscles tensed, and he licked the tip of his nose, "I'm warning you..."

"Today you should take a bath, trim your hair, untie knots, brush your teeth, pick out your ears, and cut your nails." 　　　 "..."

Lamizane reached out to pick up the stinky-faced Bian Mu, put it under his arm, and strode towards the newly made steel bathtub.

"Your hair is so sticky! I can't believe it! Come on, let's sprinkle some of this cologne-scented conditioner on you after you've washed it."

The Border Collie stood up on his hind legs and put his two wet front paws on the edge of the bathtub. His soaked fur stuck to his body one by one.

Perturabo's face was very gloomy, his ears were drooped, and his beard was dripping with foam and bath water.

"... Sometimes I really wonder whether you are favored by the Umpertian Heaven or by the Paradise Heaven."
-
  After a series of bathing and beauty procedures, the super fluffy, soft, warm, and fragrant flesh pads emerged. Perturabo jumped back on his sofa throne.

The amount of processing information to be done on the screen has accumulated to a considerable number.

Bian Mu frowned and transferred some of the data that needed to be processed into the waiting queue of LOGOS, while looking at his huge body that was carefully collecting the dog hair that had been combed off - ah, this scene is still exciting no matter how many times I watch it. The urge to burn down the galaxy.

After monitoring the communication channels of the heirs one by one, and then tracking and correcting the psychic monitoring collar data on the neck of the Thousand Sons Wizard, the current think tank who was wandering outside the second floor of the library, Perturabo had something rare. Absent-minded.

He held a stick of roasted and dried meat in his mouth, letting the muscle fibers brush against his teeth while tilting his head to look at the screen.

Perturabo suddenly asked a profound question.

"Have you ever thought about what to do next?"

"What?" He turned around and carefully closed the lid of the lint collection box, "What do you mean?"

"I mean...can you pursue it a little bit?"

"For example?"

"For example, go back and gather my descendants, activate the war engine of the entire planet, appoint an excellent commander, integrate my army again, give Dorne's ridiculous descendants a fatal blow, and then launch a truly epic war The battle begins with the destruction of an entire galaxy as a landmark, announcing your arrival to the entire galaxy, or making the insects on Terra fear you all day long and regard you as their doom."

"Uh."

He stood in an upright posture, which showed that he was really thinking about it.

"First of all." Lamizane pondered and wiped his hands, "I think you may have some misunderstanding about me."

"Oh?"

“In the past, when I bought meat for my dogs, I would only buy clean meat that had been completely processed and only needed to be cooked.”

The dog frowned, just like he did when he was still in his body.

"What do you want to clarify?"

"I want to explain that you may not realize it, but since I came to this place, being able to do what I am now is considered to be the top willpower among those who are happy with the situation."

"Humph!"

"Secondly," the outsider chose his words carefully, "I think the desire to do this kind of thing in this body is not that strong...actually."

They stared into each other's eyes.

"Actually, I think you should think about your next situation, Perturabo."

　Gua, I’m writing, I’m writing, I’ll save some more [Look away]

　　
  　
  (End of this chapter)