Chapter 223 The Judge and the Old Bald Donkey
Letters came and went, and the void was long. The good news was that the Warp was always willing to watch the trivial matters within the Empire, and those annoying astrological messages were therefore unimpeded.
What is truly important will always be distorted by the warp, but those messy messages will not, if anything can disrupt the good mood of the Sun Lord bathed in the light of the stars this morning.
Then apart from traitors and aliens, there are probably only those brain-dead Imperial colleagues.
In the best room in the starport in the early morning, Qi Fan, Kane, Ryan, Master Chief of the Falcon of Destruction, Ensign Unlucky and the Sun Lord gathered together. They had dark circles in their eyes, were sleepy, yawned from time to time, and the room was floating. There is a faint smell of coffee, which is very rare high-end goods, but it is not worthy of this group of officers. At this moment, it smells even more tiring.
However, if the Black Hearted King could choose to bomb this place at this moment, he would take action even if he had to spend 50% or even 70% of his fleet. After all, such an opportunity is difficult to come by.
(What’s interesting is that in the Vanity Fair of the Empire, lieutenants can intervene, but when the Ministry of Military Affairs was temporarily suspended, the ranks of the expeditionary corps have become blurred. This is extremely rare in the history of the empire. Order is always talked about. Yes, this is probably why the Sun Lord is so special)
Alan Bayer took a sip of coffee. It was one of the few days when he used a normal cup. Usually he put a military kettle in it and stirred it with instant Reca coffee, a classic combination of military officers.
He still missed the half-cold and half-hot drinking water on the battlefield with the special metallic rusty smell of the imperial kettle, and once again complained in his heart about the lack of virtue in the Ministry of Military Affairs.
"Huh..." He cleared his throat, not happy about the bad morning he'd been woken up by the announcement. "Everyone, I'm sorry to wake you up so early. Yesterday's welcome party was well done. I still remember the delicious food. It was quite good."
Kane replied, rubbing his sleepy eyes. "Except the Ratlings were drunk, wearing Sun Lord suits, and slashing with relic-grade golden power swords."
Alan Bair swallowed. "Yes, except for that, the Lytlin boy is not usually like that..." He felt a dull pain in his temples, but he emphasized again.
"I wanted to let the army rest during this period. First of all, there is a huge amount of supplies that need to be sorted out. It also takes a lot of time to dispatch a team of 60 million people. However, according to the report of the Titanium drones, they were destroyed in the subspace. One-third of the Red Corsairs Traitor Space Marines"
"According to my prediction, even if the former Star Claw is added, the enemy's number of troops and warships will not be able to catch up with ours, but the premise is always void. In other words, our next focus is not to disperse our military strength, attack and occupy with ground, The main thing is to destroy the enemy’s physical strength.”
Kane coughed. "We're going to...ahem...fight the Rebel Space Marines..." He looked not very good for a moment, but his sleepiness obscured his posture. Others only thought he was drunk and hungover, and they would never take his fear into consideration.
Alan Bair nodded. "That's right." This sentence made the commanders here show mixed emotions. They were worried and a little dissatisfied, but they were more excited. The vigorous and resolute expedition force did not like to wait for the support of the Space Marine Chapter. They only needed to destroy the dead. As usual.
But Alan Bayer dispelled those people's thoughts. "But this matter is not the reason why I summoned you. In fact, that batch of materials is enough for us to consume for half a year and the follow-up production of this world. The state religion, the Tribunal, plans to send an inquisitor, a highly respected pastor of the state religion, Check it out and take their 10 percent.”
The ensign laughed. "Ha, boss, it's just two "only"!"
Only the others looked serious. "They agreed?" Qi Fan said.
Alan Beyer replied. "No, they didn't agree. To be precise...ha~" He yawned. He was too sleepy. He was a little doubtful whether the other party did it on purpose, and the star language was too fast. Could it be that the subspace also likes to eat melons?
"Except for the Ministry of Internal Affairs, which compromised, other departments still asked to send people, and it was my wishful thinking, and asked them to take 10%, because this is the only choice, they only have one choice, understand?"
He got serious. "I need all departments of the Imperial Guard to enter combat mode. No matter how crazy we played yesterday, now hide the drinks in the banquet, fill the bunker with people, and show those guys our firepower and combat effectiveness."
"Intimidate them, pull all the battle tanks near the star port, and let those battleships ignore the strategic depth and distance, and keep them in the void to the extent that they can be roughly seen by the naked eye."
Qi Fan was a little unsure. "But people with a discerning eye can see that we are pretending to be powerful."
Alan Beyer simply replied. "A discerning person will not open his mouth like a lion!"
The whole room was silent. If the empire was truly united, everyone would not be obsessed with all kinds of tricks, and the fate of mankind would definitely be more comfortable. However, at the end of this dark 40th millennium, people's hearts are essentially twisted.
While the Imperial Guard was working overtime, the new Inquisitor, Miss Lovalov, was walking out of a secret alien trial event. She was wearing that special uniform, a wide hat, and that obvious number that could determine the number. The rosette of a billion lives.
Just because her mission this time did not require her to hide herself, or even treat her like a swan.
Because she wanted to go to the edge of enemy territory, a world that the Imperial Guard had just retaken, she proposed using the Inquisition's black ship, but she rejected it because of the fear of the Imperial Guard.
They refused to pay any, seemingly powerful firepower, and even tried their best to dress up the matter of sharing the money as if it were a diplomatic matter, as if they could usually get rid of it with red wine.
This incident made the Inquisitor dissatisfied. She was like a bullet, shot without caring about her thoughts, and just like she should.
In the end, she had no choice but to rely on the transport ships of the large chamber of commerce to travel to that sector from this bishop's world.
But don't get me wrong, this is not one of those slow imperial transport ships that drags down civilians, but a special ship used for transmission services in a practical sense.
A powerful noble may not have a starship, and he may not have an Imperial Navy-level clipper. When urgent matters require him to cross the planet, this commercial ship was born.
The total length is only one kilometer, barely meeting the standards for carrying a large subspace engine, but it is extremely luxurious, replacing thousands of internal rooms with several extremely luxurious living halls, using natural materials, such as logs or fireplaces, to maintain them. internal temperature.
To be precise, this place looks like a wooden cabin located in the ancient Terra Mountains. The windows have holographic projections and exquisite landscape photos, creating an almost completely realistic, completely different 24-hour virtual picture and simulation. Out of the sparkling lakeside and the snow-capped mountains.
Birch forests, pine trees, lakes, and snow-capped mountains, but the windows can only be closed. However, considering that this will reduce the sense of immersion, this area was deliberately not selected as the temperature adjustment area inside the ship. Instead, as the cold invades the interior from the void, it can also allow passengers to Choose from stews, cheeses, breads, ham roasts and more.
In addition, entertainment activities such as old-fashioned hand-crank telephones and records are also provided. If you have any needs, you can call the hotline directly. All the items you need will be labeled as "neighbors sending supplies", "frozen creatures", "ordering services", " "Exceeding joy" and so on were delivered during the pick-up process like a performance.
Yes, the corridors here are also holographic, taking you to a wonderful, uninhabited snow-capped mountain or lake. At the same time, if you board the ship alone, in order to save seats, the guest will usually be assigned a companion. During this long journey, two people who can afford such a noble trip and whose manners and conversation match each other will probably become friends.
This place also created stories for the nobles of the empire that could be sung, and they were talked about with great interest.
At the same time, the number of workers here has also reached an astonishing number. In order to maintain the huge ship system, a total of 10,000 of them huddled in 10% of the space on the ship, sleeping next to dangerous boilers. In the pistons, overheated holograms On the projector, you can eat recycled food that looks like garbage. They are all starch blocks made by recycling the leftovers of the guests (of course there are also metabolites).
And the source of labor inside such a ship is not clean either. (I heard that mutants exist)
And its imitation creates a completely mimetic human winter in ancient Terra, which makes tourists reluctant to leave, and the travel price is almost astronomical.
However, the definition of astronomical figures always depends on the person, because there is nothing in this world that you can’t think of, and there is nothing that people can’t do. It takes tens of thousands of Empire coins (equivalent to several months’ salary of senior technicians in the Empire) to support this valuable event. travel.
Of course, the Inquisitor's financial capacity is enough to pay, and she does not need her to pay. For the Inquisition, the money for travel is just a rarity.
But even so, there are still many difficulties before her at this moment, but obviously, the biggest problem she currently encounters is not the tough attitude of the Imperial Guard, but the passengers traveling with her.
She is now wearing a thick down jacket, but you can still see that she is a sign of the Inquisitor, because she needs to stay alert and remember her responsibilities, so most of the imperial nobles are not willing to complete a wonderful trip with her.
This is not her personal problem. On the contrary, as a Valhalla, Miss Lovalov is young and beautiful. She is not guilty and is not afraid of ghosts knocking on her door. However, in this dark 40th millennium, she needs to travel across star regions. Super rich, which one is really clean?
Let me tell you now that there is a judge sitting next to you who wants to spend an unforgettable travel time with you?
Single rooms are basically impossible. This is the most popular service in the empire, and even many people need connections to queue up. Therefore, the inquisitor is looking at the chattering bald man in front of her. To be precise, he has a hairpin on his chest. The badge of the state religion, a scripture thick enough to open a person's head (physically) on his waist, and a prayer inlaid on his clothes.
The wrinkled lines on his forehead are covered with complex runes. Perhaps because of his faith, he has shaved off his hair. To be precise, he is bald.
"Sir, please shut up!" The Inquisitor couldn't bear it anymore. She was about to go to bed. According to standard Terran time, it was now three o'clock in the morning, but he was still chattering endlessly about where he was going and how he was going to spread the empire. The emperor's will, and those long and smelly scriptures.
The Tribunal is already free from the control of the state religion, and is consistent with the unique existence of the Astartes and the Mechanicum. If ordinary nobles encountered such a situation, they would definitely not give up, but Lovlova would not tolerate it.
The pastor just cleared his throat and started chanting in a low voice, yes, he didn't stop...
Lovlova had to have a little admiration for this guy in her heart. After all, she went on the ship to praise the Emperor for blessing him with this trip, entered the house to praise the beauty of Ancient Terra, and emphasized that this was all the Emperor's credit. Grace, sleep is also a blessing from the Lord of mankind!
The main thing is that he speaks so many words in Gothic without stopping all day long. His ascetic-like nature makes people sigh and move, but the most fatal part is here.
If we talk about ordinary nobles, they probably can only understand a little. Those obscure scriptures are meaningless whispers as long as they are used to them. But for the judge, she can understand any sentence in them.
Perhaps the biggest question in the Inquisitor's mind at this moment is, Emperor, why do you test me like this?
After probably, at least a few hours after Lova felt it, (it might not have been that long, but it was so uncomfortable that she felt confused) she finally fell into a peaceful sleep. It was not that the old man stopped reading, but that she finally learned how to Ignore such things.
The pastor stopped praying at this moment and mysteriously took out a dispatch letter from his chest. He was going to teach the lost lambs and tell them that the 11 tax should not stay. But he was not sure whether this was right. At least he was better than before. Here I curl up and warm myself by the fire, and I prefer to go to the civilian ship to tell the pain to the imperial citizens.
He chanted the prayer just to confirm whether the judge's heart was so firm. Secondly, he needed to confirm the content of the dispatch again on the ship, and asked himself this question when he was so sleepy that he was unconscious.
Was it really the Emperor's will for him to collect money from the Imperial Guard, loyalists of the War Heresy?
The fire crackled, and the only real thing in this virtual place was nothing more than this. Half asleep and half awake, the old priest saw in a trance, the citizens of the empire suffering in the lower ship and the great emperor. , the silver sun was shining on him, guiding him.
When he opened his eyes, the holographic projection had turned into daytime. He sat on the floor, thinking hard all night, but he shouted with great energy. "Emperor! I know! There are those who need saving!"
The Inquisitor suddenly sat up, and his sleepy head was bombarded by sudden shouts. He felt that he had not been in such pain since the last time he was hit on the head with an assault hammer by a heretic.
she asked cursingly. "What's wrong?"
The priest just pointed at the wooden floor and said. "Follow me and go to hell once." (End of Chapter)