Chapter 258 Falcon spreads its wings
Predictive divination equipment, full name 13-Gamma-67, the metal satellite of the Empire, and added with the bones of many martyrs, heroes and loyalists, the exquisite equipment and the souls of the Emperor's believers enable it to detect and stabilize subspace fluctuations, providing a powerful weapon for the Empire's ships The navigator assists and provides general information about the area.
It has been hanging here for decades, and at this moment, exactly seventeen starships have been transferred into real space under its vigilant visual receivers in the past few decades.
Now, the eighteenth ship has arrived, and the self-scripted data feed unfolds through the detector's artificial cortex, automatically reviewing the prescient scan readings in response, but just as its machine soul prepares to classify another scan as insignificant, The probe's musings were broken as a priority plus-minus meter blocking signal roared from its auspicious instrument.
The divination probe's void-hardened lens refocused, its plus-minus meter humming, sucking in data on every spectrum as reality warped.
The force field shifted and rippled across a vast area, the light bending through the twisted ultra-wide lenses the detector stared into, as if twisting at the core of a black hole, where many witchfires flickered and died into the darkness, each flame a It's like the shell of real space has been scorched.
Until the crack between reality and illusion appears, the physical substance is peeled off like the flesh on a leper's face, and the spiritual energy overflows, tumbling in a fountain and emitting strange light.
The real space shook violently, twisted and stretched at the same time, and then was torn open like a gaping wound, and a starship rushed out from inside.
The outside of its covering stand was stimulated by the magical energy, rolling, the engine hummed in its efforts, the pistons continued, and the ship's Geller field collapsed in the beating discharge fireball, revealing a spacecraft nearly several kilometers long. The battered hull panels of the reinforced Imperial warship were scorched and riddled with dents.
Behind it, the rifts in reality tumbled wildly, tendrils of foul light groping blindly like hounds trying to recapture the prize of countless souls aboard the ship before it escaped.
As subspace anomalies collapsed under the physical barriers caused by the real universe, the starship with constant wounds was finally able to sail freely. The detection satellite Gamma worked quickly to compile and classify, scan and transmit.
An oxhide scroll buzzed within its armored hull, ready to fire a bundle of information through its aquila-carved array. The machine spirit interrogated and quickly determined the ship's location to be an assault strike cruiser, a Space Marine's. ships.
Faster automatic scanning detects and catalogs the crest of the Eagles of Destruction, from the wild world of Ghost Peak in the Gulf of Damocles.
The industrious Imperial probe is constantly working, collecting, recording, analyzing, and storing. Those high-end storage units composed of artificial neural units and wetware are not aware at all that in this dark universe with no friction, this half The stalled ship was coming towards it.
When the machine soul of this poor detection satellite realized that something was wrong, it frantically ignited the thrusters on its wings to pull away from the orbit, and packaged the communication language and sent it to the machine soul of the Space Marine cruiser. But when the server kept roaring, the huge battleship As it flew across the void, the diligent imperial engine turned into a ball of fire and exploded.
It left a slight scorch mark on the plating on the assault cruiser's starboard bow, just below the ship's name, leaving a small mark on "Baptism of Fire."
This is a remote waterway that was discovered by a few adventurer fleets many years after the empire was established. Because of its poor subspace flow and constant undercurrents, it was regarded as a non-first choice path by the empire. However, in the era of war, This position can prevent oneself from being discovered. The price can be roughly understood by looking at the current appearance of Baptism of Fire...
Many mortal servants stepped anxiously on the metal deck of the ship. Those servants who have lived on this strike cruiser for dozens of generations have never even seen what the planet looks like, and have never left any world, except for the particularly beloved ones. Servants, most people's lives are just a part of this Baptismal Fire combat strike cruiser, a very small part.
This subspace journey was the first time many people had seen such serious losses in their lives. Compared to the calmness of the Space Marines, the busyness and trampling of the mortals made the maintenance of order worse and worse, and the speed became slower and slower.
As time went by, problems began to arise in the gravity-generating array inside the ship. Countless people subconsciously acted like drowning fish, struggling to hold on to handrails and other objects under the constantly flashing warning lumen, relying on force to pull forward, as if they could not swim. people were flooded.
But no matter how chaotic it is, as long as the Space Marines step past them, the mortals will stop and use their slender arms to perform the aquila salute to them as if instinctively.
Under the flashing emergency lumen lights in the ship, the fourth company commander is urgently looking for someone. He does not need to hold on to the handrails or pull anything like those mortals. He is as stable as if there are suction cups on the soles of his feet. Several battle brothers around him are ready. hair.
He slammed into the failed door valve in front of him, and the iron sheet bent under its force. After the power failed, the small gap between his shoulder armor was held by his fingers, and the power armor made a sizzling sound, and the power system was driven at full strength.
After an intense buzzing sound that made one's teeth hurt, the hydraulic iron door, which had no capability provided by a battleship, was actually pulled open by manpower, revealing the main power control room inside.
Those sparkling and complex imperial machines were originally the core power to assist this strike cruiser. Those circuits and enhanced information processors or skull servers were supposed to be their help in breaking through the subspace, but now they have been completely suppressed.
Traces of power axes can be seen everywhere, holy bone remains and servos, saint cortices or diviners, those things are all paralyzed by crazy attacks, and at the same time.
The emotionless pupil display of the mechanical sage in scarlet robes looked at the furious warrior, and the mechanical sound grid roared, chanting the demonic mechanical language from the subspace.
“0100100010010…”
The ironic thing is that this person still graced the light of Ohm's Messiah during the trip, and used his weak metal body to maintain this extremely important room with all his heart. When Geller's position was partially disabled, he resisted Ya. Space filth has completed its great mission.
Now, in the eyes of the fourth company commander, the dutiful sage is dead, and his loyal soul has been swept away by the torrents that continue to echo in the subspace. Now all that is left is the metal body, which is pitiful.
But no matter what the heretic wanted to say or do, the Space Marine Captain at this moment tensed his muscles like a beast, lowered his body, and fired like a blazing flame or a projectile, piercing the space filled with crazy mechanical words.
As a veteran, he has experienced the days when heretics bewitched his comrades, and has also tasted the test of faith. When his extremely fast thoughts and two strong hearts beat, his blood flows, his muscles roar, and he holds the heretic with tens of thousands of pounds of strength. The pathetic throat, the strength of the fingers completely broke the grid in his throat, causing the whisper to dissipate.
He took off the entire metal head, and the blood-red engine oil sprayed out, dyeing the company commander's white cloak and beautiful armor red. However, the soldier did not care about himself, and dropped the head, shot it with explosives, and placed it in the ship's warehouse. It left deep bullet marks and fragments of broken heads.
Will the souls of the faithful still go and worship the Golden Throne before the Lord of Mankind? But it seemed that he was hopeless. The sadness and pity flashed through the hearts of the few mortals who followed the Space Marines, but it was only a fleeting moment.
They hurried forward to collect the blood-like oil and debris. What followed was a massive heresy inspection and hundreds of deaths before the ship was stabilized.
Only after sacrifice, blood, and change can this precarious ship dock. But the Fourth Captain does not need safety, he needs to move, he needs to leave, he needs to go to the rebellious Freeport, and use Space Marine raids to lay down the foundation for the Imperial Guard. A place to camp.
The Destruction Eagle's powerful maneuverability allows them to penetrate places lacking air defense like sharp spears, while the enemy only has mercenaries and pirates' clumsy civilian ships, which cannot effectively hinder the Space Marines' warships. They just need to get there before the enemy can gather their strength. Break in and destroy those enemies to gain the upper hand.
But now, their astropaths died and the astropath array was lost. At the same time, the sage priests in the general control area also became corrupted and were cleaned up. The possibility of subspace travel was destroyed, and most of the systems failed. If it weren't for the engine, If they can move at sub-light speed, then they are just space hulks...
The company commander who had just returned on the bridge was stopped by the technical sergeant. The hissing sound and the third arm reminded the company commander of the mechanical sage who had just been torn apart, and the brother who believed in Ohm Messiah spoke: The words that gave the company commander a headache. "There are about 80 light years away from the free port. One stop of subspace navigation can take up to two days to experience the experience. In the real world, the maximum is one week."
"I know! Then you let the ship enter subspace?!" The company commander yelled angrily, and many brothers working here stopped their work. His gaffe was witnessed by many people. It was terrible, and Extremely inappropriate for now.
The company commander quickly calmed down and muttered. "What's your name?"
Techmarine replied. "Kelem, bro."
he asked. "Brother Kellum, how much more ground do we have to lose."
The technical sergeant replied "We have had several gun deck fires and ammunition explosions, and the stern void shield generator is no longer working. Ship-wide communications have failed, and we have lost more than half of the ship's oracles."
"What about our subspace engine?" the fourth company commander asked.
"The dead Sage Ramdux was forced into stasis for fear of feedback from the heavens or an overflow of evil, and now it has proven impossible to reactivate," the sergeant replied.
"Then we are paralyzed," the company commander said angrily. "Without the power of the Warp Engine to penetrate the Veil, we are limited to conventional engines. Journeys that would take us days through the Warp would take years under this conventional power. We have no way of reconnecting with the main force or even getting our Our comrades know we are still alive!”
"How long will it take us to make the repair?" he continued.
"We don't have equipment, large equipment. Secondly, the death of the technical sages has also left a definite vacancy. The core technology of the subspace engine can only be mastered by the casting sages above the 15th civilization level." The technical sergeant read.
In his heart, the company commander threw Technical Sergeant Kellum to the ground during his years of training at Mars Academy. The reality is indeed the case. The Mechanicus will not hand over the core to any outsider, let alone smart space warriors, which is even more dangerous. .
"So what is our current course of action?" The Master Chief, who had successfully entered the core area of the Fourth Company, listened for a long time and then asked.
He also said. "Presumably we have failed to quell the enemy and are left adrift in the darkness of the stars, but that cannot serve the Emperor's will."
said the company commander. "Activate the fortune teller." After hearing this, the technical sergeant pressed a rune sequence into the holographic platform and whispered the awakening ritual as before.
The device flashed actively, creating a three-dimensional map of the local space from light to dark in the air. The "Baptism of Fire" was in the center, represented by a red and white rune, and around it the map followed the ships. The remaining oracles slowly expand by weaving their surroundings into data murals.
Ironically, the satellite that provided the information had just been hit by them, and now it could only rely on the slow scanning of the ship's own instruments, making every minute now seem torturous.
"There is confirmation of machine spirits from deep space satellites," Kellum said. "That at least puts us on the edge of a star system."
"There!" the Master Chief said, pointing as more runes flashed. "An asteroid belt. A gas giant. A dead world."
"More planets," the Captain said, "and with Imperial symbols. By the Emperor's grace, we have arrived in a settled system, brothers."
Aerospace data is spread out on one side of the map. Names began to flash, written in High Gothic while the bridge crew struggled to triangulate.
"Loander System!" Tech Sergeant Kellum read aloud. "And there, in the capital world, Loander Prime, Tithe Level 2 (lower hive world), this shows that there are sufficient orbital shipyards to speed up our repairs."
"Even better..." the Master Chief said happily, typing the command into the rune key of the holodeck. The display focuses on Kalides Prime, expanding the world into a slowly rotating sphere and projecting additional information around it in a halo.
"A star language array for a planet," the company commander showed a stiff smile. "This is great news. Not only will we be able to repair the Baptism of Fire, we will also be able to rely on that planet's astropathic spiritual choir to penetrate the warp and send a message to Skadi."
"We will keep them informed of our situation at our destination and coordinate our rendezvous with Pangia's expeditionary fleet. We will return to the heart of the war!"
The sergeant chief suddenly interrupted the company commander. "Sorry, but this is in the Freeport Controlled Area. I think the enemy already knows that we will attack, so..."
"Eternally eager to slay the enemy and sharpen the edge of the sword, I understand, brother." the captain replied. "Issue an order to all brothers in the fleet who are still able to move."
"We've found a world that might serve the Empire, but now we're driving deep into the enemy's interior like a spear into the enemy's camp, so we can face anything!"
"Prepare bombs! Land, kill, eagles strike the sky, death falls from the sky, for the Emperor!" "For the Emperor!" the soldiers of the Eagles of Destruction shouted after hearing the order, their deep and resonant voices spreading Passing through the corridors of the ship and through the deep cabins filled their mortal servants with pride and courage!
(End of chapter)