40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 741 33. Interlude: Precious Future (End)

Retirement is a very luxurious word in the Empire in the 30th millennium. Usually, almost no one uses it. Even if someone does, it is used with synonyms that have been redefined by the Empire - such as death in battle, sacrifice, missing, etc.

Injuries will be healed, lost limbs will be replaced with prosthetics, and those who escape will be shot from behind. In short, no matter what, as long as you serve in the Imperial Army, the best outcome for most people is to die in battle.

Of course, as long as the base number is large enough, there will always be some unexpected events.

A lucky man who made great military achievements and got a chance to "make a wish" but used it to retire; a veteran who served diligently for many years and truly lived up to the retirement age of his unit; a noble officer with a prominent family and strong personal ability, but was personally judged by the Ministry of Military Affairs as "no longer suitable for the battlefield" after a certain battle.

In such a vast galaxy, there are always some special people - particularly unlucky or particularly lucky. Sometimes, there is not much difference between the two.

However, after the arrival of the 38th millennium, this situation seemed to have changed, at least in the regulations of the Ministry of Military Affairs.

Every soldier who has fought in at least one war is required to undergo regular psychological evaluations to determine whether they are still competent for their duties. If they are judged to be unable to continue serving, they will be advised to retire.

Those who are dissatisfied with this can apply to the commander of their direct unit for a comprehensive assessment. Only if they pass the assessment can they continue to serve.

As for the losers, they will return to the Military Affairs Department headquarters in Terra along with those who have calmly accepted their future to be evaluated for their merits and receive subsequent arrangements.

Go to some garden world to live out the rest of your life? Take a position as an instructor in Zhongsi Academy? Take a large sum of money and enjoy yourself in some gray area?

It's all right. Everyone can make their own choice. The Empire will not hinder them in any way. At most, it will only advise them to be good citizens after retirement. It is up to them whether to listen or not.

Some people would become rich, have many children, a manor with fine wine, and die peacefully with their partner; but some people would rather pursue blood and fire - become bodyguards, assassins, or mercenaries.

Even if they die naked at the entrance of a dirty and smelly alley one day, with acid rain falling from the sky and dripping into their eyes, they will accept it.

But, what happened in the past ten thousand years to allow the Military Affairs Department to be so confident?

Since humans left Terra, they have never experienced a truly peaceful era. War is the eternal theme. Times have changed, and various political systems have risen and fallen, but only this huge and rigid empire, like a huge rotting corpse, dares to establish such a generous welfare system - and no matter how good it is, it is always a weakening of the empire's overall military strength.

The answer starts with 573.M39.

In that year, the education system designed and implemented by the holder of the seal himself finally showed its effectiveness after running in obscurity for seven and a half centuries.

In the data summary conducted by the Executive Yuan every five hundred years, the Conscription Office attracted the attention of all high-ranking officials at the time because the number of voluntary applicants for enlistment had increased almost fourteen times compared to five hundred years ago.

This kind of digital growth can no longer be described as unimaginable. Even in the wildest dreams of some people, something like this has never happened. But at that moment, it happened in reality.

So these famous and powerful people began to trace the origins, and finally, they found that those soldiers who volunteered, had excellent qualities and clean backgrounds all came from a plan that was more than 700 years old.

It spans the Solar Star Region, the Hazy Star Region and the Pacific Star Region, and the manpower and material resources consumed are so great that it is believed that ten more Emperor Fantasy ships can be built.

With this reckless and reckless investment, by the end of the first century of the program's operation, it had successfully established the prototype of a huge, new educational network.

One planet, one school, free admission regardless of identity.

From school to adulthood, the Empire pays for all the food, clothing, housing and transportation. There are two types of teaching staff: one is famous local scholars or teachers, and the other is military skills instructors selected by the seal holder and assigned by the Military Affairs Department.

Such schools do not accept any orders from the local governor, zone governor or even star domain governor, and their principals are only responsible to Terra.

Its defense force comes from the thousand outstanding graduates of various Zhongsi Colleges in the solar system every year, as well as the ten thousand people selected through the assessment of the local defense force, and the elite navy forces that only accept the dispatch of the Military Affairs Department to escort in orbit.

Seven and a half centuries later, the rewards of that plan are beginning to show.

First of all, the number of auxiliary troops and defense forces increased greatly. Even those remote worlds could get sufficient defense forces. No troops needed to recruit street hooligans and swindlers. The main force in the army was gradually replaced by a new type of people.

These people have different backgrounds, but miraculously they have received exactly the same education.

They can quickly and confidently turn their backs to each other after meeting for five minutes. They can judge each other's intentions through gestures without exchanging names. They can organize a high-spirited team without a superior and play military tactics that are fully implemented according to strict standards.

Then, there was a real flow of good news.

The alien threat is no longer as deadly, and although there are still differences between mortals and them, a new generation of soldiers has learned how to deal with different types of aliens. Chaos's sneakiness is no longer difficult to detect, and every soldier in the rapid reaction force against such a person is a man of strong will and devout faith.

Although they will still pay a huge price, at least they will not face the destruction of the world they are stationed in ignorance like their predecessors.

They are now capable of fighting.

They are still mortals, made of flesh and blood. They will be afraid, shaken, and temporarily stopped by pain. However, they know why they are fighting, so they will always grit their teeth and move forward until they die, or use their death as one of the annotations of victory.

In the past, only a few people in the Imperial Army understood this. Most of them were civilians or criminals who were forced into the army. After a few months of military training, they were randomly put on a ship and finally thrown into a meat grinder-like battlefield, where they died in obscurity and became a number that no one cared about.

They had guns in their hands, but not in their hearts. They never thought about going to war, never thought about facing the most horrible monsters they had never seen in their lives.

Do they want to do this? Of course they don't. It is the harsh laws of the empire, the insults of their superiors and the pistols of the political commissars that force them to do this.

If they are lucky and live longer, perhaps some of the smart people among them will figure out the meaning of these endless bloody battles, but they will still be unwilling to accept it in their hearts until time wears away their resentment, or they die before that.

Such a system and model resulted in uneven quality among most of the imperial troops, caused many mutinies, and lengthened the scale and intensified the intensity of wars.

And now, similar tragedies no longer have to happen.

but

"Why should I do this?" Khalil asked in great surprise.

"It's up to you to do it."

In the spacious and bright meeting hall, a tall man with silver hair and a young face said this expressionlessly.

"Why?" Khalil repeated. "In five months at most, the expeditionary fleet to Sollems will set sail. I should be dealing with more pressing issues."

"Why? Isn't it important for retired soldiers to stay or go?"

Khalil sighed slightly, his expression gradually turning into helplessness: "You know that's not what I meant."

"I don't care." Malcador smiled grimly. "You came back with their ship, and I have no one else to use, so you must do this, no discussion."

Khalil was silent for a few seconds, nodded, and reluctantly agreed to this matter. He asked another question: "You have no one available? Where are the mute guards?"

"They have all been dispatched," Malcador said calmly. "You have no idea how busy I have been lately. It took me almost two years to deal with the return of the Combined Fleet alone, not to mention the good work you have done in Chemos - oh, and the new Fabricator General who never sits still."

"Belisarius Cole?" Khalil asked cautiously.

"Yes, what else?" Malcador asked impatiently. "Who else would dare to go to the logistics and R\u0026D department without following the procedures and directly throw out tens of thousands of manuscripts?"

"He clearly knows that doing this will have a huge impact on the interests of many people, and countless chains bound by money and power will be broken because of this, but he doesn't care at all. Do you know how much effort I put in to calm this matter down?"

Khalil smiled and raised his hands in an ancient gesture of surrender: "But, I guess this shouldn't be difficult for you?"

Malcador's forehead suddenly bulged with two blue veins, and he even growled, "Not difficult and taking effort and time to do are two different things! You and the people you found are of the same character, only looking for things to do at the critical moment!"

“I apologize for him.”

"What's the use? You spent a whole extra year at Chemos's. All the official duties, meetings, and documents that Caryl Rohals should have handled for a whole year fell on my shoulders!"

Taking a deep breath, the seal holder calmed himself down and continued to preside over the meeting, which was attended by only the two of them, in a calm tone.

"Anyway, the resettlement of those retired soldiers will have to start with you, so you can get familiar with the process in advance. Some of these people will be rehired as investigators in the Ministry of Justice, so it's not entirely unrelated for you to be involved in this matter."

As he spoke, he suddenly sneered, "Thank you for taking the trouble, Grand Inquisitor. I would like to thank you in advance on behalf of my colleagues from the Administrative Council, the Ministry of Military Affairs, and the Ministry of Justice."

Khalil sat upright and nodded repeatedly. Not to mention having any opinions, he didn't even want to utter a syllable for fear of attracting more complaints.

And Malcador seemed to have anticipated this. He pulled out a data tablet from his waist and stuffed it directly into Khalil's hand.

"What is this?" Khalil asked.

He put it back on the table very carefully, fearing that once he opened it, a series of documents would jump out and blur his eyes.

"This is a side job," Malcador said expressionlessly. "Belisarius Cawl's actions provoked some people on Mars. Last month, they united to hold a weapons seminar and then handed me a proposal."

"Anyway, some new auxiliary army weapons have entered the prototype testing stage. It just so happens that those retired soldiers can be responsible for testing them to find out their real advantages or disadvantages. Compared to a group of old guys who can't get out of the laboratory all day, I still trust these people who have just left the battlefield more. They know what kind of weapons real soldiers need."

"What about me?"

"You are responsible for carrying out this matter - the whole thing. From weapon testing to production line and distribution, every step, every detail, every document, I want to see your stamp, understand?"

The Grand Inquisitor leaned back in his chair and frowned, "Is it not too much for me to handle this matter?"

Malcador did not speak, but just fell back like him, leaning back on the comfortable chair, with a smile on his face. This smile really caught Khalil's eyes, and made him feel a chill on his back.

"No," Malcador said softly. "Because you assumed the position of Grand Justice of the Ministry of Justice two weeks ago, the manufacture and distribution of new weapons requires your approval."

Khalil gasped in shock and even left his chair: "You—! I refuse!"

"It's no use."

Malcador reached for the datapad and flicked on its screen, revealing a document: an inauguration document, flipped to the end, with his right thumbprint hovering over it, glowing blue.

"Congratulations on officially becoming a Supreme Court Justice, Khalil"

Malcador laughed and stood up. It was the first time in ten thousand years that he had smiled so sincerely. The person he was congratulating sighed and sat back in his chair.

His laughter echoed in the hall, spreading farther and farther until it heard the sound of footsteps.

A man stepped out of the light and came before them.

"How was it?" he asked Malcador impatiently as he appeared. "Did my plan work? Did he fall for it?"

Khalil looked at him with wide eyes.

Malcador calmed his smile and nodded slowly.

The man smiled heartily, suddenly raised his right hand and showed them a bottle of wine.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked. "I finally managed to get enough strength to open the door and come out."

Khalil sat up straight and said thoughtfully, "Of course, but what should we use as a toast?"

This question seemed to stump the man. He frowned, unable to think of an answer for a moment, and even the movement of opening the wine in his hand slowed down a little - so Makado snatched the bottle from his hand, unscrewed the cork by brute force, and spoke loudly.

"But ten thousand years!"

He shouted, then raised his head and took a sip, but then suddenly his whole body was shocked. Khalil turned to look at the man, who just smiled.

"How is it?" the man asked. "What does it feel like to taste wine again after losing your sense of taste?"

Malcador did not answer, but raised his head again until an uncontrollable red flush appeared on his face, and then he stopped drinking.

"What's the name of this wine?" he asked.

"Hope," the Emperor whispered. "I call it Hope."