Chapter 156 Construction Safety Guide
“1. Before entering the construction site, green skins must conduct assessments on construction safety regulations and mental state education. Those who fail the assessment will be taken to the nearby green skin preparation station for forced re-examination. Education, those who fail the test twice will be thrown into the promethium combustion furnace. ”
“2. When entering the construction site, green men must wear safety helmets, tie hatbands, use various labor protection equipment correctly, and Wear a highly corrosive injection collar to verify the sensitivity and controllability of the collar injection piston. "
"3. Before entering the construction site, the green skin must clearly understand its responsibilities and shout "For Rehmannia" to prove its loyalty. The green skins are allowed to shout out their loyalty speeches during the construction process. Private gatherings are not allowed. Chewing scogo while constructing is strictly prohibited. Those who violate the prohibition will be punished by drawing one out of ten. "
"4. Each construction period. The site needs to be equipped with a forbidden soldier for management and supervision, and a dedicated collar control center to uniformly manage electrical signals to prevent illegal operations and prevent network equipment and personal accidents. ”
"5. Those who work on anti-gravity adsorption surfaces must wear special non-slip shoes..."
Peturabo flicked his wrist and continued to write safety guidelines for network tunnel construction on the data board. Some retro narrators or engineers would prefer paper, and Perturabo couldn't understand the trouble of requiring a second pass at the expense of a typist.
To his left, the floating projection screen was filled with greenskin knowledge that the Emperor had extracted from the Archives and his personal memories. To his right was the webway project that had expanded to more than four thousand people. page plan.
In front of him was a lecture in Greenskin written by Morse to the greenskins, which he needed to give the next time he received the first batch of greenskins thrown into the biological laboratory by the emperor.
“Follow our big golden guys,” he tried to practice in a lowered voice with the strangely accented language, trying to ignore the negative effect of emotional resistance on the appeal of the speech, and focus more on the loftiness of the task. Sex itself, "We can defeat all the shrimps and other assholes in the world! We are now the super gate to the whole thieves waaagh, and from now on we can go wherever we want!"
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A burst of applause came from outside the door, and Perturabo stopped roaring and regained his normal volume: "Morse."
Morse opened the half-opened workshop door and stepped across the door to draw The protective rune, which looked like an exorcism crest, came to Perturabo's table. "How's it going?"
"You can see," said Perturabo. "I have verified that the emperor's plan favors theoretical guidance, as well as some imaginative construction suggestions with low error tolerance. Therefore, I will be responsible for the specific requirements of actual operations, such as determining the technological stability and greenness of the size of the green-skin tribe that can be produced. The best balance value of skin controllability."
Morse nodded slightly: "The emperor was once an emperor, a general, a scientist, and a person who promoted human progress. A worker, a farmer, an ordinary person selling fish on the street. But the last time he participated in the overall design of a grand engineering project was... was it the last time?" He paused.
The two were silent for two seconds, tacitly ignoring the topic.
"A new batch of military reports has arrived. You and Dorn are still immersed in the battle against an alien mechanical empire." The black-robed craftsman did not move around, but found a wall to lean against and folded his arms in front of his chest.
Perturabo tapped his forehead with the data pen and continued to work distractedly. He is already familiar with writing a construction safety guide for cooperation between his own personnel and untrustworthy personnel.
"How was the fight?" he asked. "The news has not been synchronized yet."
"The situation is very classic. Some enemies with technology or psychic abilities that are not weaker than the Human Empire, some fortresses and shields that are difficult to break through - but with the help of the Imperial Fist, The coalition's aggressiveness is indeed higher than before, and we are closing the encirclement pocket." Morse reached out and clenched his fist to make a vivid gesture. "The military report shows that the advance is going smoothly. Maybe they will have already sent the next report to Terra. Complete the supply and set sail again.”
Although there are currently two armies traveling together, the difficulty of supply has not increased significantly - the Imperial Fist’s Mountain Formation is a mobile that almost has its own ecosystem. Fortress, whether carrying supplies or autonomous circulation can be completed in this huge space fortress.
Part of the Iron Warriors' fleet is even parked directly inside the Phalanx to facilitate maintenance and transportation. "You should make a body like mine for Dorne," Perturabo said suddenly.
"Why? The Terra Cold Hall expedition team must gather three primarchs?"
Perturabo snorted, and the data pen was on the surface of the data pad. With a light stroke: "I wasn't the first greenskin to recognize him as a big golden guy. Why not let Dorn claim these aliens?"
"Oh," Morse smiled, " The Emperor had already been waaaagh in front of the greenskins - well, he just kept his original demeanor, brilliantly blurring all the words 'humanity' in his grand declaration towards mankind, Recite it again. Anyway, you can do it.”
"Rogal Dorn can do it too." Perturabo said, "The Phalanx is almost symbiotic with the miniature green skins."
"Allow me without any metaphors, hints, sarcasm, ridicule, or inducement. Let me ask you, are you really willing to put this project aside and hand it over to Dorne?"
Perturabo shrank a little deeper into his seat, although not much remained of his iron seat. space.
"He didn't do as well as I did." He whispered.
Laughing, Morse bent his upper body, and his trembling black hair covered his face. He immediately stood up straight: "Well, I'm proud of you, Perturabo."
He left the wall and walked lightly in the workshop while saying: "There is no battle for Horus Luperkar, Leman Russ, Magnus, and your new brother Duncan Ahor. What needs to be mentioned in particular is that I think this will be the norm in the Great Crusade. Through a random combination of force, wealth, and belief, you will gradually conquer the galaxy until new difficulties arise and bring about some turning points."
"Like the return of another Primarch?" Perturabo asked, looking at his face reflected in the smooth screen of the dataslate. "I look forward to this happening, because some legions really need a genetic father who can control them."
"I think about it, the Sun of Thousand Dusts and the Twilight Raiders, and the Iron Warriors and One of Ghoul's previous collaborations... wasn't very pleasant?" Morse locked in on both events. He had read every battle report from Perturabo, except for Magnus, who had provided it himself.
"These battles are indeed unpleasant," answered Perturabo.
——
"This battle is indeed unpleasant." In the strategy room of the Phalanx, Perturabo flipped through the report sent by his descendants and said to Roger Dorn beside him. "The fighting style of the Genna people is too weird. I think their consciousness is separated from their physical bodies."
"Your analysis is reasonable." Dorn replied, placing his hands on the edge of the table.
"We need to dissect a Genna," said Perturabo. "See what mechanical or psychic construct is controlling them."
(End of Chapter)