Chapter 138 Galaxy Summary Report
"Should we eat here, or somewhere else?" Morse asked, holding the plate of food.
After another round-the-world patrol to check the construction progress of various bases, they stopped at the half of Invite that had stayed away all night.
Today’s lunch is solanaceous perennial herb tuber puree, barbecued meat, stewed meat with boiled vegetables, and a glass of animal milk.
Morse had long since given up on recognizing what these creatures that had been genetically edited and cosmic irradiated for thousands of years, and tasted like mashed potatoes, beef patties, beef stew and boiled lettuce. , and sweetened yogurt.
"You can eat in the cafeteria." Dorn said. He held a dinner plate in each hand. The amount of food stacked on the plate was visibly heavy.
"Go to a quiet place," Perturabo said, holding two knives, forks and spoons in one hand, and holding his datapad in the other. "The new round of military reports has arrived. , not allowed to be read in a public place."
"Then find a corner and squat together...Okay, just kidding." Morse shrugged the shoulder that was not holding the plate, "Let's go. On the roof. "
The night enveloped the three figures like quicksand, and the ether energy outside the real universe was like a thin rope, pulling them to the top of the office building in the camp. Morse applied a little extra witchcraft to keep it warm, but of course, the target was food, not a few guys who regarded fifty degrees below zero as nothing.
When on the ground, people often think that climbing to the top of a tall building means getting close to the stars; when they actually set foot in the sky, this hidden thought will be stripped of its romantic skin and will not be proven. It is the transcendent desire of human beings who are dissatisfied with the status quo.
In any case, for the Primarchs, this top platform hundreds of meters high, where the cold wind blows in the eternal night, is just a secluded place for sharing meal time.
Donn gave Perturabo his steaming lunch, took the small tableware the size of an ordinary Astartes from the other person's hand, and sat down on the ground. , hold it in your hand and try to carefully make the spoon play the role of scooping up food rather than spilling it.
Perturabo sat on the floor together, putting the data pad next to him and freeing his hands to eat.
He thought about data transmission again. If data could be sent directly into people's neural circuits, many things would become much more convenient. For example, you don't need to take two bites before you put down your fork and reach out to scratch the data pad. surface.
And if people really rely on data to communicate... well, this may not necessarily be a good thing. Although it is beneficial to talk to people like Donne who can always tell the truth in a worse form, more often than not, this kind of absolute frankness will put too high demands on people's psyche. After all, the voice of the heart is often darker than words.
"Do you know anything about our other brothers?" asked Perturabo.
"The Emperor mentioned them." Rogal Dorn replied after swallowing the mashed potatoes in his mouth to prevent the food residue from damaging his personal image and the appetite of others, "Horus Luperkar, First Return Son, number sixteen. Leman Russ, returns after you, number six. Magnus the Red, you bring him back to Terra, number fifteen."
"Why only. Does Magnus have a color to describe?" Morse picked up a boiled vegetable leaf with the tip of his fork, and then plunged it into a piece of stew the size of an Astarte. He gestured for a while, feeling that it would be difficult to put it all into his mouth.
“Because he is the only one who is red.”
“Red?” Dorn repeated doubtfully.
"Magnus has red skin and the ability to use surreal spells." Perturabo said calmly, "But he is not an alien."
Dorn nodded slightly: "I have remembered it. "
Perturabo continued flipping through his datapad, the Primarch's physical coordination ensuring that he would not be distracted and cause the mashed potato soup to drip from his spoon onto his current clothing. of light armor surface.
"Horus's achievements are still dazzling." Perturabo said, countless abstract cold data flashed in his mind, gradually describing the hundreds of people conquered by Horus's Luna Wolves. A brilliant picture of the Milky Way constructed by two planets.
"Two alien-occupied areas, a remnant empire of the old night, not only defeated the enemy, but also obtained surrender. The time he spent in these places was only three hundred Terran days."
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In every round of military report exchanges, Horus Luperkar's record is always the one with the best lead.
Although in this comparison, Perturabo stopped building fortresses from time to time, some of Russ's achievements seemed not to be mentioned, and Magnus had constant small problems, but Horus's achievements were There is no doubt about it.
Pearl-white battle armor and skillful diplomatic rhetoric together add star-like glory to this talented war commander. The flag of the Sky Eagle is fluttering in front of his army, and the Lunar Wolf is like a real The wolves display their extremely sharp fangs in the vast galaxy.
Every time I read the battle report of Horus, the image of the tolerant and forthright brother of the Primarch would have a different kind of brilliance in Perturabo's heart.
The one who watched the stars and the moon with him on Bucephalus, who secretly shook his head at the emperor's construction of gorgeous buildings that were more beautiful than practical everywhere, and who had the jelly eel taken away by Russ at a dinner party on Terra , the Wolf Shepherd who leaves a sincere smile to his loved ones, can also push the supreme majesty to all parts of the galaxy like a storm and thunder, biting the throat bones of rebels in the name of the Emperor.
"Amazing." Donne did not hesitate to praise, just as he did not shy away from criticism. "I want to see him."
"The Luna Wolves and the Iron Warriors' legion are moving in completely opposite directions," Perturabo said. "Meeting is not easy."
"If we think of the Milky Way as a plane like this -" Morse stood a little in the sky, and a blurry star map appeared in the night, the edges blurred with the night itself.
He pasted the Luna Wolf's eye symbol on the left side of the star map, and the Iron Warriors' yellow and black stripes were drawn below the star map.
"——It can be seen that it is really unlikely to encounter them immediately, unless the Milky Way is a weird sphere."
Perturabo finished his kebab without realizing it, and Dorn finished his drink, which looked like sweetened yogurt.
Roger Dorn's stern, cold, and deeply lined face seemed destined to insulate him from weak desserts. However, in fact, perhaps due to his long-term living on an alpine planet, Dorn was not fond of desserts and meats. He welcomes anyone who comes, and even the Olympian children find it too sweet to eat honey candies.
By the way, last time Pertura came to visit and asked Dorn why he loved gold so much that he painted the entire legion in a brilliant light. Both he and Morse bet that this was the negative impact of the emperor's aesthetics on his heirs, and Dorn honestly answered that it was because the Invet literature mentioned a golden food called "lemon", which is rich in vitamins. , extremely valuable to the Invites who survive in the snow.
“Where are the other fleets?” Morse asked as he cut the overly large piece of stew with a knife-because he was holding the plate in one hand and the fork in the other, the knife could only Flying in the air by myself.
"Leman Russ and his Space Wolves are often written down as 'having an unusual savagery,'" Perturabo said, "although this veiled slur was used in Russ's return It gradually disappeared within a few years, but his wild wolves still adhere to a completely different habit from the other wolves. "Is it normal for the Imperial Expeditionary Legion to name the legion after a certain species?" Dorn asked, seemingly right. His decision to name the warriors "Fists" gave rise to more thoughts.
"The Canids and the Twelfth Legion." Morse said, taking out a can of pepper from the air, and sprinkled a layer of particles in the mashed potatoes, "I don't know about the others. In addition, the I remember the Ninth Legion being called Ghouls or something. Last time I checked their genes were just as bad as the Third Legion's. I locked the genetic spiral of this batch of Astartes to prevent more collapse. , how the Legion will develop in the future, and how to deal with the genetic issues of the new Astartes, let their genetic masters figure it out after they return - does anyone want pepper? "
"What is that? ?" Dorn asked.
"Try it." Perturabo said. Dorn took the glass jar that floated in front of him. After thinking about it, he turned the jar and sprinkled a solid layer on the mashed potatoes. , and stir evenly like cement with a table knife.
"I will pray for the soul of the mashed potatoes, may it meet the tolerant potato father in the Kingdom of God." Morse muttered under his breath, throwing the glass jar back into the air.
"No matter what, Russ's road of conquest is still going on." Perturabo said, his words suddenly got stuck, and his eyes widened slightly.
A new text message popped up on his datapad.
"It looks like Russ may have found a new Primarch." Perturabo read Russ' text message almost verbatim, "That's a tall giant, Russ said, meet It was as if a quiet and insightful force had struck his veins that they hadn't really communicated yet. "Hmm, that sounds interesting," Morse said, speculating briefly. Let's see if that's the Second Primarch.
While looking through thousands of pasts and futures in the depths of the Crystal Maze, Morse discovered that there were only two existences that should be very important to the empire, and their images were reflected in every tributary of the long river of time. No, this is the Second Primarch and the Eleventh Primarch - except for the almost certain disappearance and delisting, it seems that every different fate may befall them.
Just thinking about the present, most of the time, the Second Primarch will return in the first twenty years of this millennium, but exceptions are not non-existent, so this is just a speculation on Morse-even Sigis Mondstadt joined the Imperial Fists at least twenty years in advance, so what reference value do the countless recorded historical turning points have as a reference to destiny.
"If there is enough coincidence, we may encounter him when we return to Terra." Perturabo said, "Or there may be a battle in the future that requires cooperation."
"Perhaps. ” Morse ate his mashed potatoes with a normal amount of pepper. It was an unexpected surprise that the Adeptus Mechanicus could restore Imperial pepper that was more than 50% close to normal pepper. This also made his impression of the Ohm Messiah much better. "Anything else new?"
Perturabo put down the half-weighted dinner plate, and the steaks piled on it were no longer as shaky as the illegal buildings in the hive.
"The reputation of Magnus and his Legion is changing in an unknown direction." Perturabo said, his expression becoming subtle at the mention of Magnus.
"Many planets conquered by the Sun of Thousand Dusts claimed that they were being ruled by a hypocritical sorcerer king until imperial officials purged or reared the opposition in an orderly manner; other planets claimed that they had seen the true savior, as bright as The golden and red magic and divine magic of the blazing sun cleansed their sinful souls."
"Magnus had to impose psychic bans on some planets that behaved particularly heretically, claiming that he was not more than one billion souls in the galaxy. A slightly more powerful one - if he really thinks this will work."
"Does this description sound familiar to anyone here?" Morse asked, plating the fork in his hand. Apply a layer of golden light to strengthen his suggestion.
"There is an absolute difference between Magnus and the Emperor." Dorn said, surprisingly understanding the hidden lines in Morse's words, "Perturabo said Magnus His skin color is red."
"Is this a joke?" Perturabo's spoon almost slipped from his hand. He held it in time and accidentally lifted it due to the superhuman strength of the original body. It twisted into an oily mass of metal.
Dorn paused, aware in the silence that Perturabo was speaking to him: "What I state is the truth, and it is the most obvious of many ways to distinguish Magnus from the Emperor."< br>
Perturabo picked up the plate again, "Overall, Magnus' reputation sounds like a one-eyed king who should be wary of."
"One-eyed? What? Hurt him?"
"Himself." Perturabo snorted. "The cost of casting spells."
"So he can't blame others for thinking he is suspicious." Morse said, "In the cultural tradition of the old night, sacred and glorious images are often related to being worthy of reliance or even kneeling. Strangeness, mutilation and witchcraft are equivalent to ominousness, especially after experiencing the era of chaos and disaster, human trust in psychics has long been at its lowest point."
"For other brother legions that have experienced the Unification War, psykers are just tools for emergencies. Considering their dangers, execution may be a better choice - so the Emperor will establish a psyker Legion, and the fact that they do not pretend to be official in any way, such as "they use secret ancient technology", is surprising to me. Their magical characteristics that have attracted curiosity since their birth are destined to grow with their power. It will be a difficult test to bring about distrust and even hostility."
"The Primarch has a strong will," Rogal Dorn said.
"You have this valuable trait, but the Primarch may not have it." Morse said.
Perturabo glanced at Morse.
"You're okay," Mors replied, and Perturabo took a satisfied sip of his drink.
After moistening or sticking his throat with a high-sugar drink, Perturabo coughed lightly.
"Rogal Dorn." He called the white-haired original by his full name, which attracted the other party's face covered with shadows in the eternal night. However, because Dorn's eyes were still bright and focused, Pettu Rab could find a familiar trustworthiness in the face.
"Tomorrow, Phalanx will briefly wake up from its long sleep in orbit." Perturabo said, "Are you ready to test?"
"All test instruments And the engineers are in place."
"How do you feel?" Morse asked.
"This is the largest engineering project I have ever participated in, and its importance is obvious. But during the test process, the chance of casualties is close to zero. Therefore," Donn thought for a while, feeling his own feelings, "I feel Not bad. ”
Take a day off tomorrow orz
(End of this chapter)