Chapter 122 The Iron Lord is probably relieved
"I will ensure that my engineers will not be offended by this." Rogal Dorn said.
A stubborn strand of hair tried to peek out from the side of Dorn's neatly trimmed short platinum hair. His tone was as cold and stern as his expression: "You can let your legion recollect the Phalanx. Data."
"I'm not questioning the Invites' ability," Perturabo said.
The Iron Lord tried to figure out whether there was an invisible warning behind Dorn's attitude that it was inconvenient to speak - this was a completely subconscious act of dismantling.
His brain analyzed for him the complex metaphors that a person speaking like this means before his surface thinking, and then his mind yelled at his own brain: Stop thinking about it, this guy is Rogal Dorn .
"I know you're not." Donne said, "You don't need to explain any more."
"Yes, I don't need to." Perturabo placed the one under the table His hands began to clasp the edge of his kneecap.
Out of the corner of his eye, Morse tapped the meeting minutes paper at him, reminding Perturabo that his words and deeds would probably be interpreted by the man in black who had just psychologically surrendered to Dorne. , selflessly filling out the march report and sending it back to Terra.
"Okay." Donne continued, unaware of Morse's silent little movement.
"In the discussion just now, we have reached a consensus on each other's ability levels. Next, we can talk about specific cooperation projects," he thought for a moment and added a phrase, "Is that okay?"
< br>"I divided the matter into three parts." Perturabo put his hand on the table. "The first is the maintenance of the Phalanx; the second is the construction of living facilities in Invit and neighboring systems; the third is the maintenance of Invit "Especially the defense measures of neighboring galaxies."
Dorn first nodded in approval of Perturabo's partitioning method, and then added: "The urgency of these matters can also be ranked according to one to three as you said. . I think the help I need mainly focuses on the first item, which is the maintenance of the mountain formation.”
“Limited by the local natural environment conditions, the construction of the cluster living area in Invite has reached a relatively complete stage. There is no rush to continue to improve the level in the short term. The defense system can be left to my army to improve in the future."
Finally, he added: "You are a kind person, my brother." >
"I can understand that you are praising me in your heart." Perturabo's expression was not so much calm as it was a kind of trance-like numbness. "So you don't have to say it."
"If I don't say it, how can I let others know what I think?" Donne didn't care, "Do you agree with me?"
< br>"I agree with the first of the several opinions you just said, that is, the maintenance of the Phalanx is relatively important." Anyway, I disagree with the last one, Pertura thought, "Leave the defense system to your own construction, don't stop me The fleet can take off and land normally while staying in Invite, and I need to see it with my own eyes before making a decision." Dorn said, "The Phalanx is not yet available. Support long-distance ground communication. Invite will send a space shuttle to pick me up back to the surface in thirty hours. At that time, I will take you to check the specific situation of Invite."
"I believe that the Iron Blood will also be there. Arrive here within thirty hours," Perturabo said. "At that time, I will show you my best engineering achievements so far. Even if it is only a small fluorescence compared to the brilliance of the mountain formation, it is still the best work of my efforts. ”
"I'll wait." Dawn nodded calmly in agreement. "I'm looking forward to it."
——
"I don't understand why you think——"
"Keep your voice down, Primarch." Morse interrupted. asked him, "The sound insulation here is not very good. After all, who would weaken rather than strengthen the propagation of sound in a ship-based monastery?"
Perturabo looked around, and there was no Inwit local around him. workers, and no heirs that he ordered to be dispersed into the Phalanx to start checking the situation.
Regardless, he lowered his voice: "I don't understand why you think Donne is easy to communicate with, Morse!"
"Well," Morse scraped his fingers across the wall, erasing a layer of nearly Frequent traffic every year caused floating dust to appear on the Phalanx. The once bright murals are now pale and faded, perhaps caused by the long-term direct sunlight of stars. "Let's make some comparisons."
"Suppose there is a person here," he drew a stick figure in the dust on the wall, "who always smiles and is friendly, but you ask him a hundred He only answered your question in one sentence."
Then he drew another stick figure next to him, with a round head and a downward-turned mouth. "There is another person here who never pretends to be him. How easy to communicate, but you ask him a question and he answers everything truthfully."
Morse put down his hand and pretended to blow the dust off his fingertips: "Which person do you think is better?"
Perturabo drew a third stick figure above the two: "A man who is friendly and wise, and who can answer questions." "Does such a man exist?"
The top of the third stickman's head was added by Perturabo with rays representing reflected light.
"Horus Luperkar," said Perturabo.
A gust of wind blew past the wall, and all three stick figures disappeared.
"It was Horus's kindness that made his actions seem less deliberate." Morse briefly criticized Horus a little.
"Maybe." Perturabo muttered, sounding very weak. "So, you like Rogal Dorn?"
"Define your vocabulary."
"Approval of his behavior, think he does better than me, and enjoy being with him , interested in him...that’s what it means.”
Perturabo admitted that when he saw Morse appear, he expected Morse to be on the same side of the battle line with him. Work with him to fight and even defeat the defense line Rogal Dorn built with that mouth. However, after arriving on the court, he discovered that Morse immediately sat at midfield as the referee, and almost ran to the opposite base to shake hands with Donn.
"Well..." Mors looked at Perturabo up and down, and patted the giant's arm in a friendly manner, "According to your standards, you just seemed to like Rogal Dorn very much."
"What!" Perturabo shouted, feeling a wave of ice water flowing down his bones and filling his whole body. He was so frightened that he almost vomited out yesterday's dinner - he hadn't eaten breakfast today, "Morse!"
"Have courage, calm down, face your memory, respected Lord of Iron. You are a person who is more than three meters, not more than thirty centimeters."
Morse knocked on the bench in the monastery. The flickering golden light swept away the dust and strengthened the rotten wood that collapsed at the touch of a touch.
“Think back on your conversation. Have you ever had such a smooth deliberations with anyone?”
After getting a seat, Morse sat down calmly, crossed his left leg above his right leg, and looked up at Perturabo, who fell into silence.
Morse didn't know what Rogal Dorn and Perturabo were talking about before he came here, so much so that Perturabo was so out of his mind that he patted a hole in the iron table, but The part he witnessed with his own eyes was the smooth conversation between the two Primarchs who met for the first time, as if they had known each other for a long time.
At the same square table, any question raised by either party can be answered by the other party within one second. Whether it is technical or management advice, both of them can fully explain it in the middle of a sentence. Understand the other person’s perspective.
Perhaps the Primarchs, who jointly stretched their thoughts to the limit in the long negotiations, never noticed how their gestures and postures gradually converged, and how their thoughts merged and merged into the same thread. In the dry river of thoughts. With similar identities and similar interests, they make each other better by unconsciously learning from each other.
In a nutshell, Morse saw a pair of brothers who were mirror images of each other, except that Dorne looked more like a serious stone, while Perturabo looked like a piece of iron that was constantly angry.
"So what's your answer, Perturabo?" the man in black robe said softly.
"I don't like Rogal Dorn." Perturabo emphasized unhappily. "What about you?"
"I don't know if I have told you that I like stone." Morse shrugged, "Because it is honest, hard, and never changes. So you often see me at my place." to all kinds of stone sculptures."
"But I don't seem to have said that I prefer steel. It is hot, bright, tough, accepts changes and becomes indestructible after cooling. I like to change something. Change the state and structure from the inside out to create a soul connected to me."
"Would you like to guess why there are so few iron tools in my place?" Morse smiled.
"Because you are too lazy to light the stove." Perturabo replied, "You just want to sit at the table and do all the manual work in the world."
"Exactly." Morse agreed. , "Exactly. So I will only have one finished product - another one will kill me."
The card is crooked again...
(End of this chapter)