Warhammer: The Beginning is the Crisis of Annihilation Chapter 70: I thought I could be the boss
The sound of machinery humming echoed on the carrier deck of the Argent Hammer.
The squad of the Silver Skulls, which was selected for ground combat, jogged into the designated location for the final inspection of their weapons.
The heavily armored Thunderhawk gunship transports had their engines activated, waiting to take them to the surface.
The ribs were hollowed out, and the munitions machine servant installed with servo machinery moved slowly between the vehicles, using the mechanical arm with steel bones and exposed hydraulic pipes to place the shells, power packs, and fuel pumps in designated positions.
The chapter servants came and went in a hurry, bringing equipment, medals, weapons and ammunition for the Primaris Space Marines who were about to dispatch.
Chapters of the Chapter marched along rows of ready-to-go warriors, leading them in reciting the Chapter's battle rites and pasting oath papers on their ships.
Cherubs and silver-plated servo-skulls hovered above the warriors, carrying censers that belched so thickly that the entire load deck was smoky.
Chapter Leader Opal and Think Tank stood in front of the observation platform, watching the final preparations.
A servant wearing a battle regiment robe came up and said respectfully.
"Captain Iser reported that the Imperial Fleet has successfully obtained control of low-Earth orbit and is ready to airborne at any time."
"It looks like you're about to get the war you crave, Commander," said the Librarian.
"You make me feel like a war-loving space wolf." Opal looked at the think tank of the battle group, with a smile on his resolute face. Obviously, he was joking with the think tank.
"Following the will of the Primarch, I fight for humanity and the Emperor. War is only a means we use, not a tool for our own pleasure."
"The 10,000-year-long war has already made us lose our original intention. The emperor created us for peace, but many brothers have sunk into the war and cannot extricate themselves. This is undoubtedly a great tragedy." The think tank smiled lightly, in the tone There was no shortage of some mockery.
"The Primarch will change all of this." Opal said, "We are changing, and humans are also changing. Even for the Empire, it is only a little bit, but it has already made a good start. Our mission is to help Lord Primarch , continue to expand these changes, and one day, the emperor's dream will come true."
"I hope so." The think tank said, and he took out an Emperor Tarot card, plain and simple.
Opal took it over and looked at the card. It was a clown card that was fooling the audience and making people laugh.
"Fate's clown," said the Librarian.
"What do you mean?" Opal frowned slightly, "You mean the fate of mankind or this battle."
"I don't know. During the divination, I thought too much, which made the result biased. It may be neither, or it may represent both. The prophecy is full of uncertainty, and the clown is the Emperor Tarot The most complex of the cards, it represents fooling and having fun. No one knows whose face is under the clown mask until the show is over."
"You should concentrate on predicting this battle instead of thinking about other things." Opal put the crystal-polished Emperor Tarot Card back into the think tank's palm.
"Captain, the prayer is over." The priest's voice echoed in the battle group channel.
"Okay, now the conversation about divination is over."
After finishing speaking, Opal ignored the think tank, and went straight to the railing of the observation deck, facing the brothers of the battle group who were about to go into battle.
He pressed the communicator to amplify his voice.
"Brothers." Opal's voice echoed throughout the carrier deck, "Once again, we will fight in the name of the Lord and Emperor of Ultramar."
"In ten minutes, the fleet will enter the orbit of the planet. We will airborne and face those damned greenskins. Let us add another victory to the battle group's record."
Other fighters responded to Opal in the communication.
They chanted slogans, full of high morale.
"For the Emperor."
"For Guilliman."
"."
Opal watched them, smiling. He pressed the rune button on his iron fist, and a ceramic alloy heat shield slid down to cover his helmet.
"One last check, then prepare for airborne."
Opal ordered the thinker of the armor to confirm the basic information such as the servo system, weapons and ammunition, and flight bag fuel.
Wait until all the tooltips on the helmet panel turn green.
He steps towards a gunship that emits a low hum.
The other fighters followed closely and entered different gunships.
After confirming that everyone is ready, Opal will activate the team battle mode and share each other's data information.
At the same time, distribute the previously formulated strategic arrangements to each team.
Flight routes and war maps appeared in the minds and eyes of the soldiers.
"Confirm your mission, brothers." Opal said through the communication channel.
"confirmed."
"confirmed."
The voices of various teams came one after another from the communication channel.
"Then let's get down to business and start airborne."
Opal issued an order.
The pilot of the gunship machine pressed the start button, and a slight vibration was transmitted to everyone along the metal bulkhead.
Energy is delivered into the propulsion system, dazzling flames are ejected from the propulsion port, and the huge thrust propels the huge gunboat transport plane, slowly driving out of the carrying deck.
Accompanied by hurried sounds and flashing lights, the huge hangar door was slowly opened.
The Stormbird fighter jets flew out first. They needed to suppress the orc's anti-aircraft firepower for the primordial space fighters, and conduct a bombing to weaken the orc's resistance.
The boxy Thunderhawk gunship followed closely behind, rushing towards the planet that had been invaded and polluted by the orcs.
On the mine.
"Trash shrimp." The orc warrior Ulfud poked the human lying on the ground with his hammer, mumbling dissatisfiedly.
Another shrimp died, and the boss knew he would beat him to death.
They need a lot of shrimp to dig things, and then give the things to the mechanic boy, who will turn those things into iron sheets, and then forge all kinds of good things.
So, they can't kill all the shrimp.
Otherwise, you have to dig things yourself.
Ufer doesn't want to dig things. Digging things won't get those high-grade scraps and parts, and you won't have those shiny teeth, and you won't be able to make yourself greener, bigger, and stronger.
Orks only get bigger, greener, and stronger on the battlefield.
Wufo touched the modified gun on his waist, thinking about the possibility of killing his boss with one shot.
His modified gun is very good.
This big gun is so big, so thick, and so strong.
Big enough to fit a fart in and pop out with a bang.
Can make all enemies cry like a fart.
Ufo took his own hammer and slammed the fallen shrimp's head a few times. The blow was so **** that he couldn't wake up the other party, so he gave up the idea of continuing to save the other party.
Ork orcs' medical treatment is very simple, just wake them up if they are unconscious.
If you can't wake up, you are dead.
Uffor often uses this method to rescue those grits who have fallen to the ground. With one hammer down, two or three out of ten can always jump up.
is considered a good medical skill.
Ufo grabbed the shrimp's body, threw it into his mouth, and started chewing.
Tastes a bit worse than Squig.
Uver chewed on the shrimp's corpse, and walked towards the battle fortress. In order to avoid being killed by his boss, he decided to kill the boss first.
"WAAAAGH, I think I can be the boss."