Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 559 Navigator...?
-
Just as Barabas Dantioch politely introduced his origins, the people he currently served, and who his true genetic father was, and before all the shocked cousins ​​from the 31st and 41st millennia could rush forward to attack him, this intelligent, steady, loyal and reliable but by no means merciful warsmith smiled and raised his hand.

——In an impossible moment, the ancient Iron Warriors who emerged from all directions - the Iron Guard and the 30th Garrison who once belonged to the Shadenhold Fortress, and more tall warriors, not Astartes, but with the same huge, armor-wrapped genetically modified bodies - have controlled them, and each loyal Space Marine is fortunate to be assigned two to three controllers.

Roaring, roaring, cursing, struggling and resisting soon disappeared. These ancient warriors who were well prepared and acted very professionally and quickly inserted the so-called "U" type locks into some power armor interfaces that were directly connected to the black shell neural interface. The power armor was immediately locked, along with the warriors inside. The strong armor protecting them turned into a cage of flesh.

"You see, we are really short of manpower right now, and the noble princes are still holding their own closed-door meetings, so we can only trouble you to calm down and lend us a hand. Perhaps before waiting for your gene father to issue the latest order for you to cooperate with us, you can also use your own eyes to see what we need you to do."

"You are a cursed son who sold his soul to the aliens! You are as evil as your father who deserves to be destroyed!" This was a Salamander wearing a master-grade power armor. His red eyes burned with anger like magma. He glared at them and spat. The acidic liquid corroded the decorative surface of the floor, making a hissing sound of dissolution. "We will not succumb to your witchcraft tricks! And you! Why?!"

The eyes of the others and even the peepers were all looking towards a corner of the hall, where stood a neat row of black power armors, silver mechanical prostheses, many extra mechanical arms, tentacles and terrible weapons, as well as white palms and gear marks: the Iron Hands were obviously not treated like this, but they also had no intention of rescuing their cousins.

The leader stepped forward. He was wearing a prosthetic Terminator power armor and holding the Ohm Messiah giant axe. Two mechanical arms unfolded from his backpack, surrounding him on the left and right. He had no helmet, and his exposed face was particularly terrifying: his right eye was replaced by a bionic eye, and the right side of his skull was completely covered by a steel skull. The lower half of his face, starting from the nose, mouth, lower jaw, neck, esophagus and trachea, were all removed and replaced by a large number of metal prostheses and tubes. There was almost no hair on the remaining half of the face. The lifeless gray-white skin like a dead person was tightly stretched on the remaining skull, and under the brow was a stern gray eye.

"Watch your words, son of Vulkan," he said, his voice like the sound of someone tapping on a piano made of steel. "I am Cardan Sturnus, Supreme War Master of the Iron Hands Council, and Master of the Clans. My honor shall not be questioned."

"Then why don't you fight him? After hearing what he just said? Those were blatant betrayals of our creed and unforgivable polluted words." This was Lieutenant Ashar of the Raven Guard. He led the mixed Astartes regiment to assist in the defense of Fort Krave and also successfully evacuated Cadia. He had just been brought here by Dantioch along with the others.

"Because..." The war leader of the Iron Council seemed to be choked up. He finally adjusted his respirator before answering, "Because although I am the war leader, I am also my father's son."

"What does this have to do with my problem..." Lieutenant Ashar's black eyes suddenly widened, and he even shed tears because of the blinding light, but he stared at Cardin intently, "Your...your father?! He's back?!"

The leader of the Iron Hands actually didn't have many facial and limb muscles to express, but for some reason, he looked even more like he had a heart attack, even though he might not have a heart in the usual sense. "Yes," he waved his hand, "I have to leave here first, Warsmith, you and your people stay away from me, I'm afraid I won't be able to resist shooting at you with my melta gun."

"Ha! You are so polite." The old blacksmith laughed a friendly but arrogant laugh. "Please do as you please, Leader Stunus. In addition, I have sent you the dormitory and functional area distribution map of the Astartes' special deck in a compressed package. And we... come on, let's take care of our cousins. I hope everything will be in order later, and we won't make it too noisy in front of Your Highnesses, which would be impolite."

The Iron Hands lined up and left in an orderly manner, revealing a pile of things that they had previously hidden...

"Warsmith, what should we do with these things they left behind?"

Dantioch narrowed his eyes.

In the open space behind them after the Iron Hands left, there were furs, power armors, and many small creatures lying in disorder. Obviously, Kadan Sturnus had come a long time ago, and although he said it rudely, he had enthusiastically moved these creatures that were once Space Wolves for them.

The other Astartes locked in their armor either looked at each other in bewilderment or uttered incredulous noises once again.

"Ah, this group..." The War Blacksmith walked over, bent down, inserted his fingers into the hairy and rough iron-gray mane of the particularly huge wolf leader who was unconscious on the ground, and rubbed it, "...well...it definitely doesn't feel as good as...that...it's perfect...as expected..."

The Warsmith stood up, with a hint of regret and nostalgia in his tone, "I remember that Master Apothecary Hong Suo once told me that he was very interested in these samples when we boarded the ship," he directed a group of new Gene Sons, "We can't let them do the work we will do in front of the public later, so let's move them directly to the Apothecary's Laboratory! I believe he can treat these Fenris... warriors better than us laymen."

------------

"Where are we heading now? What have we passed? Can we jump out of the warp? Where are we going? I don't know the hell! But I know we can follow the first ship in the lead! The Enterprise is paving the way for us! It can take us forward. As long as we stay behind its track, at least we mortals won't die or go crazy in this raging warp storm soon. What else do they want? What? They want to be given due respect and allowed to participate in the meeting on the Enterprise?! Come on! Tell them! Know your identity! Stay in your own cabins honestly, and don't let me see them and their staff officers who are obsessed with their heads appearing on the deck where they shouldn't be! Wake up! Cadia is only in our hearts now! We are unarmed, we are equal! The Air Marshal has no planes and the Navy Marshal has only a few ships, and all his navigators are useless!"

Ursaka E. Creed walked out of the room where Sergeant Garland Kyle was recuperating, and roared angrily at a group of messengers and staff officers who surrounded him and were eager to hear the latest replies and orders. His voice became hoarse due to repeated roaring orders and emphasizing his own words after losing the flag officer's loudspeaker.

"Go back and tell your fucking superiors! Although Cadia has fallen, my authorization from the Supreme Lord is still valid! They must obey my orders! Why? On what basis?! Go back and tell them! Word for word! Now! On what basis? Just because of me! Here! There are Astartes commanders from the Imperial Fists, Iron Hands and at least four other chapters willing to vouch for my position to the Ministry of Military Affairs and the Ministry of the Interior - tell them if they have forgotten that every captain of the Emperor's Angels has the status of a planetary governor and the right to sign extermination orders?! Don't forget how much those Inquisitors who follow us want to kill us! Just fucking Because damn, our good men and women bravely faced the demons and beat them that day! - If your masters have forgotten, then I will remind you again now - I suggest that they should think more about how to deal with the members of the Inquisition! "After all the messengers and junior staff officers hurriedly left, the corridor became empty, and the shoulders and high chin of the Supreme Castle slowly slumped - his military coat, which was always neat and casual, became greasy and wrinkled after boarding the ship because of the continuous busyness and the collapse of Sergeant Kyle who had been taking care of his life, and the edges were stained with cigar ash. His hair was no longer so neat, and many silver threads appeared on his temples in just a few days, showing patches of gray. Wrinkles were deeply imprinted on his resolute face, and the stubble that had also turned gray appeared unevenly from his square chin, making him look dozens of years older than before.

The only thing that remains unchanged is those eyes, those determined and persistent purple eyes, now filled with fatigue and the lives and future of 30 million people.

"Ahem... Ursaka, maybe you should wash your face and shave while they are all gone," the sound of a cane came from the door behind him. Sergeant Garlan Kyle looked a little pale, but overall he seemed to be recovering from the serious injury that almost killed him. "While you wash up, I will find a way to make your coat clean and smooth."

"You shouldn't be up like this." The Supreme Castle Lord turned around and sent his most trusted assistant, adjutant, and comrade back to the room. "Rest as soon as possible, the battle is not over yet." He smiled stiffly, "I have applied for a mechanical prosthesis for you to replace your leg."

"It's not a big deal. I just lost a leg, not an arm. These are just trivial matters... Go ahead, sir. You've been too tired these past few days." Kyle said quietly, "You can't be so tense all the time. We are temporarily safe now. You should relax a little, sir."

Creed took off his wrinkled military coat and threw it on the back of the sofa. He paused for a moment, his broad shoulders drooping to both sides in a deflated manner, with his back to his flag officer.

Then the sound of him almost falling into the abyss at his feet due to exhaustion rang out in the quiet room.

"Sometimes I really don't understand, Kyle. Don't they know? We are just a group of exiles now. If we still want to survive and take revenge on the enemies who destroyed our homeland, we should not anger our protectors. Don't they understand that as leaders, although sacrifices in war are inevitable, we must protect our people, and not let the last people of Cadia who followed us lose the protection they should have received, just to satisfy the vanity and pride of these guys! This is meaningless. Are these principles really so difficult to understand, Kyle?"

“Perhaps it’s not that they don’t understand,” the flag-bearing sergeant replied calmly, “Or perhaps they have really been away from the residential areas of ordinary residents for too long, so that they have begun to think that they have the right to make Cadians their currency.”

"As long as I live, I will not allow this to happen." Creed said at last. "Cadia stands firm, and the people are united. - This should have been the last sentence of my speech, but for some reason, the global broadcast signal was interrupted at that time, leaving only the first sentence. However, since both you and I survived, Kyle, and I see a new opportunity, then I will do my best."

Read more latest popular novels at 6.9*shuba!

Sergeant Kyle nodded as if he had already confirmed it.

"I know, Ursaka, I know, and that's why I'm willing to stand in front of the Great Reaver myself for you."

--------

"So, where are we heading?! God Emperor! I can't see your light! It's all dark and scarlet! Bless us! Have mercy on us!"

Such pitiful prayers had been heard continuously for several days among the navigators of various warships and even the Phalanx, but there was no response except that they were surprised and relieved to find that they were not driven mad by the horrors and scenes of the Warp like countless unfortunate predecessors.

There was only one ship in the entire fleet, still in the lead, sailing firmly in a certain direction, as if he could see the light there.

"So who is the Enterprise's navigator?! What on earth is he or she using to determine the course?! And can't they even contact its navigation room?!"

"No... Your Excellency, the Enterprise's response has always been 'Don't just stare at the Astronomican, look at the beautiful lights elsewhere.'"

"What on earth does he mean by this?!"

In the Enterprise's most critical navigator's cabin, an Iron Thinker flashed its signal lights a few times as if grinning.

(End of this chapter)