The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Faced with Robin's almost arrogant indifference, Jacob couldn't suppress his anger and retorted:

"Our great champion, Lord Robin, of course you can stay clean since you don't have to manage anything! Do you know how hard the Captain works to maintain the war zone! A full six months! Six months without closing his eyes! Sometimes, he'd just finished commanding operations on the front lines, his wounds not even treated, and he'd rush back to the rear! All to deal with ammunition, food, manpower, and a whole series of problems you wouldn't even think about!"

"Enough, Jacob!"

Bakhram interrupted Jacob, then turned to the others and said:

"Everyone, please leave. The meeting will be rescheduled."

The crowd, as if granted amnesty, lowered their heads and left through the door, which then closed again, leaving only the Space Marines.

In fact, he had guessed earlier that even if the 11th Bureau was bold, they wouldn't be so reckless as to arrest people publicly. Someone must be backing them. He also knew that there were many problems in the Sixth War Zone. Many of the officials he appointed were capable, but their character was not so good. But he didn't have many choices. As long as it wasn't too excessive, he would turn a blind eye. Because in this place where both material and spiritual resources were scarce, it was too difficult to find qualified administrative personnel, let alone those with good character and integrity. That was even harder than finding Genestealers.

He knew about those smuggling, engaging in power-money transactions, but as long as the production capacity of the Grand Diocese could be improved, he could tolerate these things, even though he knew that this was not the style of an Astartes.

But there was no way. The war against the Tyranids was too cruel, too exhausting. It was a headless monster with many tentacles. No matter how many limbs you cut off, you could never kill it.

Of course, Bakhram guessed that such actions also had a deterrent meaning. Ustad needed to use the 11th Bureau to show his authority and ensure that every war zone and war zone commander obeyed his strategic decisions.

"Brother Robin, you've come all this way, not just for this little matter, I presume."

Bakhram tried to keep his tone as gentle as possible. He knew that Robin didn't really have any personal opinions about him, because he was like that with everyone.

Robin nodded and took out a data-slate.

"The Captain originally wanted someone else to relay the message, but considering this matter, well, I volunteered to come."

Bakhram didn't say anything, just picked up the data-slate, and after looking at it, he gasped.

"So much!?"

After reading it, he placed the data-slate on the table, and Jacob immediately picked it up.

"The situation in the Second War Zone is not good. The number of Tyranids has suddenly increased a lot, and there's a famine. Several worlds are in turmoil. In a vicious cycle, to maintain military rations, they can only collect surplus grain, but the unrest continues, plunging them into internal and external troubles. The Captain has no choice but to send a detachment of the Mourning Legion over."

"Are they crazy!?"

Jacob slammed the data-slate heavily on the table.

"So much food and supplies, we might not have enough even if we emptied our warehouses! Does that mean we in the Sixth War Zone can fight the Tyranids without eating or drinking? This is treating us like a fat Grox to be slaughtered! Other war zones are constantly reaching out to the rear for people and things, but we're the opposite. Not only have we not asked for much, but we have to keep sending things out. How many times has this happened? You work so hard, but no one cares. The more you do, the more they take!"

Bakhram just quietly told him to shut up, then asked Robin:

"How bad is the situation?"

"A unique Norn Emissary individual has appeared in that area, designated as 'Deathleaper,' causing serious damage to the defenses. To hunt it down, a company commander of the Relictors Chapter was killed."

"I understand. I will prepare the supplies as soon as possible and send them over."

"Captain!"

Seeing that Jacob was about to speak again, Bakhram put his hand on his shoulder and said earnestly:

"Remember, Jacob, everything we do is to maintain the war front of the Grand Diocese, to protect hundreds of billions of humans behind the front line. We are not managing our own territory. Don't develop warlord thinking. We must consider the overall situation and prioritize the big picture. If we are doing well, we should help other war zones more. That's what we should do. We are bleeding, and other brothers are also bleeding. Our vision cannot be narrow. If you also take on the position of Captain in the future, you must remember these things."

Jacob was stunned for a moment, then nodded helplessly.

"I understand, Captain."

Bakhram turned around and looked at Robin.

"But it will take some time."

"It's okay, I came this time to help you. I may not be able to help with other things, but you can send me wherever you need me on the front lines."

Bakhram was stunned for a moment, then smiled, stepped forward and grasped his arm.

"Thank you, brother."

Robin, whose face rarely showed any expression, also squeezed out a smile.

"Of course I can't sit idly by when my brother is in trouble. I hope my sword can let you sleep well for an extra day."

"It will, it will. I need this sword too much."

Robin noticed Bakhram's stubble on his chin and slightly dry temples, and suddenly said in a low voice:

"You've worked hard, Bakhram."

Bakhram just showed a wry smile.

"Alas, there's no way. Not only do we have to fight, but we also have to take care of so many people's eating, drinking, and bowel movements. Robin, you always said that I care too much about mortals. Now the example of the Second War Zone is right in front of us. There are too few of us. To fight the Tyranids, we must rely on those civilians, and naturally we must accept the various flaws that they will inevitably produce. I remember a long time ago, the Chapter Master said that if we want to protect humanity, the first thing we must do is acknowledge and accept the physical and mental defects and imperfections of humans. Only by doing this can we truly protect humanity, instead of disguising enslavement as protection."

Robin shook his head.

"I only have a sword in my hand, and I can't handle such complex problems, so it can only be that the able ones work harder."

"How is the situation with the Second Company Commander?"

"He's also been busy. The Chapter Master sent new recruits. Oh, right, a batch of new recruits will be coming to the Tenth Company soon, as well as some equipment and supplies, but he also brought a message, asking the Captain to think of more ways himself. The messenger said that Orpheus had another incident, and the Orks in Ryza and another forge world couldn't be suppressed. There may not be any subsequent support."

Hearing this, Bakhram couldn't help but frown, then sighed:

"It's a troubled time. The Tyranids aren't finished, and other things are coming. The Lord Commander is also under a lot of pressure. It seems we really have to rely on ourselves more... Let's not talk about these things. It's rare for you to come, let me do my best as a host."

Bakhram put his hand on the other's shoulder, walked towards the door, and said to Jacob:

"Jacob, go tell Ms. Rita to prepare a small dinner, and get more black chervil wine. Call the people in the company too."

"Yes!"