40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 237 8. Gossip?

The counterinsurgency war in Cappadocia ended twenty-one hours after the Night Blades descended from the sky.

There was no effective resistance, no tug of war, no discussion, discussion, or communication. For the Cappadocia people, the boundary between life and death had never been so clear.

This is not a multiple-choice question, and there is no so-called compromise option. Surrender, or die, that's all.

Most of the rebels were reduced to slave labor and the officers were executed, but there were a few exceptions. Several officers who took the lead in sending the planet's governor, Torras Rasbaya, were pardoned. They were spared death, but they still became slave labor.

The civilians have also paid the price for this. After the Ministry of Military Affairs fleet and the colonist fleet arrive, they will be sent to other planets as pioneers to atone for their sins.

Making the best use of everything?

Khalil shook his head, erasing the word from his heart.

It was not easy for him to adapt to the new environment. Although he had indeed fully adapted to his role as an 'instructor', participating in the war in person was another matter.

Khalil would describe it as a vague throbbing pain that would burst out suddenly to remind him of its presence every time he was about to forget about it.

"Old stubborn." With a low sigh, Khalil shook his head with a self-deprecating smile.

There are two roads before him, one old and one new. It is not difficult to make a choice, but if both paths are correct, how should he choose?

The crew members who were nearby were attracted by his laughter, but it didn't last long. Their immediate superior reprimanded them in a rather stern tone.

"What's there to see? Keep working! You lazy guys who don't want to move until someone kicks their butts with a boot!"

When Khalil heard this, his smile turned into a slightly helpless wry smile. Half a minute later, an old man whose legs had been replaced by bionic prosthetics walked up to him.

He had no hair, and there were horrifying thick scars on his bald forehead and forehead. He should have been very strong once, and the legacy of his past physique was still working tenaciously on this old body.

The old man's eyes widened and he stared at Khalil intently. He looked very rude, but in fact, Gisbier Hasil, the captain of the Tridesia, looked like this to everyone.

He had some minor vision problems, and he was very stubborn and refused to undergo another bionic surgery. So this became his usual expression, which is quite hilarious. To his crew, the old man was forever intimidating.

"Lord Khalil!" the old man shouted at him in a voice so loud it was close to noise. "Where do we go next?!"

"It depends, Captain," Khalil said. "We'd better park for a while and wait for a reply from the war dogs, and then make plans."

"Understood!" Captain Gisbier shouted and nodded, his voice still maintaining his average voice. After getting the answer, he turned around and left without hesitation. Not only that, he didn't even stay on the bridge for long.

Khalil saw his retreating figure and knew in his heart that the captain was going to inspect his ship again.

Gisbier Hasil is a very traditional captain, so traditional that he spends several hours every day inspecting all important areas of the Tridesia through the various elevators and lifting devices in the ship.

Sometimes he would even take the initiative to work overtime. There were rumors among the crew that they had seen the captain wandering like a ghost outside the engine room during the prescribed rest time, constantly checking. That's good, in fact, very good.

Khalil likes to work with these old-school people very much. These people may indeed have shortcomings of one kind or another, but they have some things that the progress of the times cannot give to everyone.

This kind of thing is more precious than gold, and it cannot be obtained through acquired training. If you are born with it, you have it; if you are born without it, you just don't have it.

The gold that should shine has already shined.

Looking down, Khalil began flipping through his playbook.

Van Cleef is certainly not the only one within the Legion who has attempted to compile a book over the past three years. However, his focus is different from Van Cleef's.

Van Cleef is trying to improve the original tactics and tactics within the Night Blade so that they can have a good chemical reaction with other legions. Khalil is different. The tactics recorded in his tactical manual are all new, and they all emerged from a battle in the past three years.

For example, they fought against a certain alien species in the Obscure Star Territory. This alien race is extremely cruel and powerful, but its technological level is close to primitive and it only operates on one planet.

The night blades discovered them, but did not launch a full-scale attack immediately. In fact, after withdrawing their scout troops, they made it rain on the planet. Chemical substances containing strong tear-jerking effects fell from the sky and turned into raindrops and attacked this race.

The heavy rain lasted for a day and night before it stopped. When the night blades fell from the sky, most of the aliens had already lost their ability to move, so it would be easy to kill them. Since then, other versions of this tactic have been developed.

For example, the chemical substance is changed into a toxin that can make people lose vision but amplify other senses, and use it at night on planets that are unwilling to submit or rebel. After it takes effect, the night blades will go out.

It only takes a few hours for the enemy to descend into complete madness. There are no taboos in war, and using this method may be frowned upon, but the Night Blades don't care.

In addition to this series of tactics, there are also a series of tactics that have nothing to do with fair duels, such as quick raid tactics against gang jumpers, and the stealth-destruction-decapitation psychological warfare that is most beloved by hunting teams.

However, this does not mean that the night blades are only good at fighting those battles where the strong can bully the weak.

Looking through their gaps, Khalil noticed out of the corner of his eye a blue light that lit up on the data table in front of him. He raised his hand and pressed it first. After the biometric identification was successful, the mechanical sound prompt of "communication" came belatedly.

The blue light gathered, and a bust of Angron with his hands appeared in front of Khalil. Due to the distance, his image was a little blurry, but this did not prevent Khalil from seeing the blood stains on his body.

Noticing the look in his eyes, Angron explained: "I personally executed several nobles. The scene was a bit bloody."

Khalil nodded understandingly without making any comment. Angron did not say any pleasantries and quickly got to the point. He spent a few minutes describing the results of the War Dogs, as well as a bit of news that Khalil didn't expect.

"——I issued a war notice to the remaining three rebel planets, telling them that War Dogs and Midnight Blade will jointly attack them. But they are willing to surrender unconditionally." The Nucerian said with a strange expression. "They only have one request."

"any request?"

"Ahem" Angron coughed lightly. "They want the Eighth Army to stay away from them."

Khalil was startled for a moment, then laughed dumbly.

"It seems our reputation has finally reached this point." He shrugged self-deprecatingly. "However, this can be considered a good thing. If we continue to develop further, maybe one day we can make a world submit with just a few words."

"But don't you think the price paid is a little too high, Khalil?" Angron said pointedly. Even though they were separated by a long distance and could only rely on holographic images to communicate with each other, the worry in his eyes did not diminish at all.

"Price is a meaningless word for some things, Angron." Khalil replied softly. "Everyone in the Eighth Legion has realized that the opinions of others have nothing to do with us. We are originally sharp blades in the darkness."

"I respect your decision, but well, the opinions of civilians are of course irrelevant. What about other legions?" The gladiator from Nuceria shook his head with worry.

"In the past few years, I have met many people. Not everyone agrees with the Eighth Legion's approach. In fact, some people who have never met Conrad have begun to regard him as some kind of terrorist. ”

Khalil narrowed his eyes calmly.

"Hmm -" He nodded. "—Can you continue? If it doesn't bother you to reveal their names."

"Your words sound strange." Angron couldn't help but frown. "I'm just stating a fact. Why do you act like you want to remember a few names?"

"I do want to remember the names, if you want to tell them." Khalil said noncommittally. "Rather than letting conflicts intensify in silence, I think it is better to let them be resolved through communication as early as possible."

Angron was silent for a moment, thinking, but finally shook his head.

"I can't tell you who these people are, Khalil," the gladiator said slightly seriously. "Although I do not agree with their thoughts and opinions, these words are private exchanges after all. I cannot be a whistleblower."

"I understand."

"but."

Angron raised his hand thoughtfully and scratched his head. He turned around, waved to someone out of sight, and exchanged a few quick words with that person.

Khalil waited patiently, without words. A few minutes later, Angron, still frowning, turned his gaze back.

"Where are you going next?" he asked.

"If nothing else happens, I should go back to Nostramo."

"Ah, then this will be easy to handle -" Angron looked visibly relieved. "——You can drop by the Storm Star Territory and I will send you the coordinates. Fortunately, I went to Terra before coming to Cappadocia."

While the gladiator continued to wave towards the outside of the camera, he couldn't help but complain: "Seriously, Khalil, do you ever feel that communicating across galaxies is a bit too strenuous?"

"Perhaps you could try psychic calling."

"Ah, no, forget it." Angron said bluntly. "I wouldn't even want a navigator if it wasn't necessary."

Khalil smiled slightly and stopped talking. A few minutes later, he received a coordinate.

There is another chapter, Ten Thousand Tomorrow.