40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 272 43. Olympia Rebellion (4)

The bridge style of the Iron Blood was different from any ship Khalil had seen before. It had a special roughness, like unpolished steel.

Thick cables littered the ground, and the deck exposed bolts and polished holes, with only the emblem of the Iron Warriors engraved on the edges. Dozens of meditator arrays with different tasks were placed in every corner in an orderly manner. The ceiling looked like a factory, with mechanical arms hanging instruments buzzing on it.

Hundreds of officers and sailors are walking around here in a steady stream, talking busily to each other. Their conversation sounded like they were debating with each other, or like a red-faced vendor and customer fighting over price in a market.

Perturabo's disdainful pragmatism is most vividly reflected here - from the perspective of the placement and bolts of the array of meditators, he obviously has the ability to make this place orderly and even beautiful, but he is too lazy to Do this.

Moreover, in order to prevent some people from thinking that he could not do such a thing, he also arranged some bizarre details in the smallest details. That way, if someone brought up something similar, he could sneer and point out the details that had been deliberately hidden.

Of course, the most important thing is that there is no observation window here, not even half of it.

All windows to the outside world come from the datapad or the bulky, thick display of the cogitator array. The place where the porthole should have been was sealed, and cold black and gray spread across the entire bridge, making the place full of intimidation.

"I have to say, I'm impressed here, Perturabo," Khalil said.

He said this with half sincerity, and the other half was because he wanted to stabilize Perturabo's mood.

He wasn't sure what the sullen Lord of Steel was thinking.

"I won't thank you for the compliment," said Perturabo, softening his tone. "But you are indeed qualified to make such an evaluation. After all, you have a room on the Emperor's Dream."

Khalil was silent for a moment, feeling the urge to sigh.

Yes, from a certain perspective, he is indeed qualified to make this kind of evaluation. Even if there are no other reasons, just talking about the Emperor's Dream is completely enough.

She is a ship in the empire that cannot and cannot be compared with. Anyone who has boarded her will have the confidence to despise other ships.

The problem was that Khalil wasn't proud of it. In fact, he didn't even want to go up there again.

Too golden.

He was deep in thought, but Perturabo seemed to be used to this silence - not to Khalil's silence, but to the silence that others invariably enacted when talking to him.

He turned, gestured to the officials behind a line of meditators, and went about his business naturally.

"Project Frix's situation," he ordered. "Establish a communication connection with him and use the resources of five satellites to do this. I want to ensure that there is no interference during the entire call."

After he finished speaking, the officials immediately became busy. Their efficiency is astonishing. Their excellent professionalism and fear of Perturabo himself make everyone appear very motivated and strange.

Khalil observed all this silently, waiting for further developments. His wait was not in vain. Perturabo lowered his head and clicked a few times on the huge data pad in front of him. The deep blue light belonging to the holographic projection immediately bloomed.

"My lord." Citybreaker Frix immediately greeted him, his face looking very stiff under the influence of the holographic projection. Of course, it might also be because he saw Khalil standing behind the original body.

Perturabo ignored his greetings, as he always ignored such things, and simply asked in a very cold voice: "Tell me their answers, Frix."

Fricks hesitated for a few seconds before speaking.

"They refused, but for a strange reason, my lord. Both sides of the war are claiming that they are fighting for you, for justice, justice and the Lord Damex. They both believe that the other cannot stop, otherwise You will definitely be punished.”

"What lies are they telling?!"

Perturabo was furious. He clenched his fist and slammed it on the iron railing of the podium. There was a loud noise, and the solid mixed metal railing was split into two.

He wanted to say something immediately, but he couldn't help it. Khalil could see his masseter muscles tense and relax, and after a moment, Perturabo spoke in a different, less violent tone.

"Damex has been dead for thirty-four years! Even if they want to find a reason to go to war, they should find a believable reason. What does this mean? Are they fooling each other into thinking they are idiots? Or are they talking about these people in my hometown? Are all the new tyrants really idiots?"

Frix did not answer the words of his original body. His image turned around and walked out of the range that the holographic image could display, and a whisper came from there. Half a minute later, he came back, and his expression had become a little serious.

"Latest news, Primarch. Your relative, Callifon, the Tyrant of Lokos, wants to talk to you face to face."

"That's my sister," Perturabo corrected coolly.

He glanced back at Khalil, a warning in his eyes. Khalil raised his hands and smiled, giving a harmless signal - although he didn't know why Perturabo would care about such a thing.

"Where is she?" The Lord of Steel asked again.

"City-state parliament." Fricks announced a place name, his expression looking a little confused. "I have not heard of this structure, Primarch. At least not when I left Olympia."

"Neither have I," said Perturabo slowly, his eyebrows twitching. "You guys move that way, I'll be there soon."

When the call ended, Perturabo turned around, and Khalil immediately spoke before he could speak: "Want me to go with you?"

"Yes." The Lord of Steel nodded coldly.

He seemed to be thinking. His expression at this moment made him look more like a machine than a human being with flesh and blood. The lonely light on the steel bridge divided his face, casting a daunting shadow.

After a few seconds, he repeated it again.

"Yes, I want you to come with me."

——

Frix observed this so-called city-state parliament through his eyepiece, his steps still looked threatening. His appearance in Terminator armor is scary enough, but his posture at this moment adds an even more terrifying atmosphere to him.

The nobleman who led him was stiff and his back was already soaked. Frix didn't laugh at him, just felt a twinge of disdain - when he left Olympia, no one here would fear the Astartes.

Nobles, grand dukes, tyrants, and common people. They are not afraid of the Iron Warriors. How can anyone be afraid of their own sons or brothers? It's different now. The faces he knows well have disappeared in the passage of time, and these people

They are simply incompetent parasites.

They do not have any character or ability, they are just relying on the afterglow of their ancestors to enjoy everything they should not enjoy. These things should be rewarded to those who have made outstanding contributions, rather than being squandered by these people.

Fricks couldn't help but feel a pang of pity.

"My lord, the hall of the city-state council is in front. I am not a tyrant, so I have no right to enter it." The noble stopped, turned around, and bowed deeply towards Frix. "I'm afraid you have to walk the rest of the way on your own."

Frix did not answer, but made a gesture. He stood there, and after the nobles left, he began to observe his surroundings more carefully. He left the rest at the front of the Council House, which now made it convenient for him to do so.

The city-state parliament is a typical Olympian-style building, but it is more primitive and does not look like the city's architectural style that was improved by Perturabo. Eight huge and delicate marble columns support its entrance door, and gold and silver relief panels form the stairs leading to it.

Fricks could easily see the origin of these materials, and he could do so without even using the analytical capabilities of the eyepiece.

The stones and relief panels came from two far apart city-states, the red carpet he stepped on came from Lokos, and other details, such as glass, decorations and other things, came from various city-states.

Fricks quickly came to the conclusion that this place was built jointly by major city-states. Neither he nor his primarch knew this.

A small drop of anger began to well up in Frix's heart, but the City Breaker didn't let it really affect him. He raised his head and looked at the sky.

The strong sunlight turned into a useless thing under the action of the eyepiece. The sky was blue and the clouds were pale and soft. It was the Olympia scenery he was familiar with. Its sky is always gentle and full of tolerance.

Frix took off his helmet and used his naked eyes to experience the true colors of the sun and the sky. Within a few seconds, he finally saw a silver trail across the sky.

He put on his helmet again, activated the runes, and switched the communication channel.

"Primarch," Frix began to call. "Are you here?"

"Soon," Perturabo said, his voice slightly distorted. "Where is the tyrant of Lokos?"

It's strange, he just said this was his sister, and now he uses such an official and distant title, Fricks thought to himself.

"She is waiting for you in the council chambers."

"Very well," said Perturabo. He hung up the communication, and Fricks stood there, not moving forward. He knew Perturabo's character very well. Even though he had changed, he was still surprisingly stubborn in some places.

Frix would not take his primarch's place to meet the tyrant of Lokos without receiving definite orders. The city breaker continued to observe the building silently, and soon discovered a point that he had missed before, but now it is worth reporting.

There are no Lokos guards here.

A tyrant may travel without envoys, but how can he travel without guards?

Frix immediately called again, but in vain. His voice ended in a huge explosion like thunderous destruction. A second trajectory crossed the sky, the clouds became dark, and the gray brought by the explosion covered the original blue.

City Breaker stood there and saw a shuttle plummeting with smoke.

He immediately drew his bolter.

besides.