Warhammer: In the Name of Ashes

"I heard you get along well."

Leaving the hall and turning around the corridor, the center of the steel-cast door was occupied by the gilded Imperial Eagle emblem.

Saluting to the Emperor Angels on both sides, 11-25 watched the huge Sky Eagle split into two under the operation of the private server, and then drove the entire door to split to both sides.

The projection of the Primarch was in the center of the room. The greetings and the footsteps behind him made 11-25 slightly stunned.

Before he could speak, the people behind him couldn't wait to accuse:

"No! My Lord!"

"I think so too." 11-25 squinted at Moore who hurried in, and the corners of his mouth raised an arc uncontrollably.

"I have never seen a more primitive command system than this galaxy, let alone people who use these systems and backward military principles!"

"I have never seen such a barbaric military style, and I will definitely accuse the Inquisition after the war!"

"Silence!" The representative of the Imperial Guards next to the projection stepped forward, and the thick counterweight cone of the halberd slammed heavily into the floor.

They didn't know the identity of the helmeted guard, but they were reminded of the scene they were in.

"Please forgive me."

The two men restrained their dissatisfaction and apologized to the projection of the Primarch, while Calvin waved his hand nonchalantly, obviously knowing something about the two's relationship.

"Let's talk business!" Calvin said, and the guards on both sides of the screen almost synchronized and opened the sand table of the battlefield situation.

A series of red dots in high-intensity wars were marked one by one, and the Primarch specially magnified several of them representing the inner ring of the galaxy.

"They don't have many ways, and time is on our side." Calvin made a judgment on the current difficult war in an affirmative tone.

The two generals continued to wait for the Primarch's explanation so that they could compare it with the global information they obtained due to their duties.

"The Inquisition and we have gained an advantage in the supernatural field. The Death Guard's reliance on the power of demons has been weakened, and the only option left is to attack honestly."

"God Emperor!" The two admired at the same time, and looked at each other with disdain at the same time.

"Hmm..." Calvin raised his eyebrows, but still ignored the two people's small movements.

"I know that the casualties on the front line are serious, and I also know that you have objections to the deployment of specific troops due to different assessments of tactical value.

"But none of this matters!" Calvin waved his hand to strengthen his persuasiveness.

"This just shows that they have no good way, and this... rebellious legion."

Calvin's projection turned around in place, and after a little organization and consideration of the wording, he still said the name.

In his eyes, after this battle, most of the local Astra Militarum will be classified as part of the sequence of the Inquisition because of their contact with Chaos.

11-25 obviously already knew about this, while Moore on the side obviously had not experienced this, and was listening to Calvin's story in a daze.

"And... Mortarion" Calvin said:

"The strategy he and his legion are now adopting is exactly the consumption-based play they are best at! And this is exactly the embodiment of returning the battlefield logic to their familiar field after they failed with other means! "And you..." He looked at the two generals, especially 11-25, whose sharp eyes almost penetrated his body. The latter understood the intention of the Primarch, and did not dare to affect the war with personal emotions. At the same time, he also heard the task assigned to them by the Primarch: "What you have to do is to stop the last struggle of these traitors at the most difficult time on the front line. Because they will definitely react. Although the consumption-based attack logic will cause casualties, it will not help achieve the purpose of the entire campaign! After they react, they will definitely try to corrupt and infiltrate behind our defense line as a last resort. Your task is to suppress the possible rebellion to an acceptable scale at this stage! " "Your will." The two generals saluted under the gaze of the guards, and Calvin continued to remind: "Don't think it's easy! The troops on the front line are already in place and have their own places to go. You have very few troops to mobilize..."

Calvin looked at Gothic at this point, and his tone became deep because of the anticipation of a certain battle:

"This is destined to be an asymmetric war..."

——

Strong liquor is a catalyst for friendship, and so is gunpowder.

If you want two people with equally strong personalities to put down their barriers, defenses, and prejudices caused by their positions in the shortest possible time, and even let their personalities formed by different circumstances merge into one.

In addition to strong liquor, the forging of the furnace of war is probably the only choice.

Boom!

The air waves raised by the orbital strike are scorching What was suffocating and truly terrifying was the violent vibration underfoot after the roar.

The shells from the near-Earth orbit bombardment came from naval guns, and any small caliber far exceeded the firepower limit of the Astra Militarum.

Even though separated by the heavy armored dome, in the underground tunnel dozens of meters deep, 11-25 could imagine the mess on the ground from the huge tinnitus and the rubble bouncing around him.

"380mm, destroyer, at most twelve rounds, not one of us..."

11-25, lying on the ground, muttered in his heart, patiently counting the number of shells that landed.

"One of our own?" The adjutant behind him couldn't help but ask.

"Ten...eleven...twelve...gone!"

The last artillery shell finally exploded, just as the remaining pair of boots fell to the ground. 11-25 stood up and tidied his general uniform, and then calmly picked up the military cap that the adjutant had just fumbled from the ground, patted the dust, and Put it back on.

At this moment, the conscientious adjutant had already walked to the car they were traveling in and opened the door first. The accompanying Guard soldiers also returned to the armored personnel carriers at the front and rear of the convoy.

Well...it's not that they question the quality of the products of the priests of the Forging World, but that these soldiers who have been on the battlefield for more than ten years know one truth:

All living beings are equal under naval guns. It makes no difference whether or not you have this 15mm thick layer of ceramic steel above your head.

If unfortunately we were hit, if we got out of the car and evacuated, at least under the emperor's occasionally caring eyes, we could pick up a few more intact corpses after the bombardment...

Bending down and kicking his legs, this young man in his thirties rubbed his lumbar spine with a grin as his back and seat became firm;

Years of traveling to various battlefields and irregular work and rest schedules have severely degraded his physical skills.

Youth and health are too luxurious for soldiers in this world. There will no longer be the days when you are in your twenties and you can carry your comrades on your back to run 20 kilometers.

No one needed to tell him this. His pursed lips and as many as twenty pieces of shrapnel that could not be removed were telling him this fact through constant torture day and night.

The door of the car was closed by the adjutant who was waiting for the car. While the light in the entire car was dimmed, the convoy also turned on the lights again and moved forward.

In the dark tunnel, the lights from the occasional outpost passed through the car window, creating a sharp silhouette on the face of the young adjutant beside him;

The active vitality and youthfulness made him irresistibly think of himself more than ten years ago when he saw this young man.

But which lieutenant is this?

The seventh or the eighth?

He couldn't remember, he only remembered that the last adjutant died in battle just a week ago.

And the young man who was under gunfire at that hour also had the same innocence and youthfulness as before him.

"A piece of trivia." He rarely went into a resting state, but began to teach some battlefield knowledge to the ignorant young people around him:

"This thing is much more accurate at hitting our own people than the enemy..."

The atmosphere inside the car became quiet again as the light dimmed, except for the regular hum of the Mole's engine.

The Forge World has a different attitude towards the local Astra Militarum. Among other things, 11-25 can tell just from the sound insulation of the vehicle under him. Compared with the mass-produced products they provide to the outside world, at least in terms of three defenses There is a big improvement in performance.

As for similar equipment differences, he had seen too many near assembly points and headquarters after arriving at the second line of the battlefield.

This also made him increasingly aware that compared with them, the Central Army, the local Astra Militarum had a natural tendency and favorable impression of the Forge World in terms of attitude.

This cannot even be said to be intentional by the forging world, but over the centuries, all the training and operations of the troops, as well as the differences in the equipment and supplies they consume, have subtly created this change.

And when this difference accumulated for thousands of years, 11-25, who came all the way from Terra, did not even need to deliberately distinguish, and could easily detect the tension and wariness hidden under the enthusiasm of the two armies when they came into contact. .

"They are worried about standing on the opposite side of the empire."

11-25 Keeping this difference in mind is one of his responsibilities as an officer of the troops directly under the Tribunal.

These Astra Militarum forces, which are nominally affiliated with the Empire, are no longer as determined as they appear.

"General!"

"General!"

Raising his hand to respond to the guard's salute in a perfunctory manner, 11-25 passed through the sentry outside the camp, and based on his understanding of the Astra Militarum, walked straight into the bunker in a corner of the camp.

Lifting the heavy dust curtain, with the help of two guards, he watched the air-tight door in front of him being opened. Almost as soon as the air between the inside and outside of the bunker was connected, he heard the intensive calls from inside.

"Call the 807th Regiment! Report your location immediately!"

"Regiment 91! Where are you! Why didn't you enter the scheduled position on time!"

There was a lot of noise in the legion's headquarters, and 11-25 walked past several staff officers who saluted him during the call and walked towards the huge sand table in the center.

He needed to master all the information about this front army consisting of ten regiments in the shortest possible time.

And if the plan goes as planned, after the chief officer here was shot by the political commissar due to the unfavorable outcome of the war, he and his new deputy should have arrived here at about the same time to complete the handover of command with the current temporary chief officer (political commissar). .

Oh, and.

If he remembered correctly, that damn Moore should have arrived on the battlefield next to him at this moment.

Click.

The artificial leather bag on his waist was opened, and he took out the data pad and matching pen and placed them on the corner of the sand table.

The surrounding staff officers were obviously too busy, and the political commissar, the theoretical leader here, was nowhere to be found.

11-25 Just like this, he recorded the information he was concerned about one by one, biting the tip of his pen and subconsciously entered the long exam.

Gulu...

The brain is still thinking, but the stomach and intestines have already launched a protest. Only then did he remember that he had not eaten for dozens of hours.

The adjutant behind him obviously understood his commander's condition better. Just when he was looking around blankly for something to eat, the young man had already skillfully dug out a set of metal cups from the corner of the office, and then took it from the next door. A cup of Reca coffee and a few potatoes were placed in the small kitchen.

"Hiss..." The almost corrosive liquid was swallowed in one gulp, and 11-25's eyes couldn't help but narrow slightly.

But his eyes still did not leave the sand table, and his free hand subconsciously took his lunch from the adjutant.

And it wasn't until he subconsciously stuffed the "Xiuzhen" thing into his mouth that he turned his surprised gaze to the young man behind him.

"Potatoes? I've been hungry for 30 hours! Are you going to give me this?"

"This is the only thing in the kitchen, I didn't find anything else." The young man's eyes were a little aggrieved, but that was really all he could find.

11-25 did not continue to investigate, but waved his hand to indicate to the latter to find a corner to rest by himself.

And when the young man's footsteps really went away, 11-25, who turned around, had already devoured a few potatoes with coffee, wiped his hands on the hem of his military uniform, and then frowned. Towards the back of the battlefield sand table.

"The division-level headquarters only has potatoes, so there may be a logistics problem..."

He muttered in his mind, and then followed the marching route displayed on the sand table, looking upwards one by one for material nodes in the opposite direction.

Before he could find the problem, a staff officer whose name he didn't know answered the call in a certain direction and subconsciously exclaimed the new news he had brought to him:

"What? General Vansfart can't come?"

"Why?"

"died?"

"How did you die?"

"Shelling? Or our own people?"

The unnamed staff officer was still yelling, but 11-25, who heard the bad news, was already itching his teeth.

The deputy in the plan is gone, and according to this trend, the new deputy will not be able to take up his duties until after this battle.

But there are only three people in the decision-making layer without one person, which means that the information collection and guidance of a series of units in charge below, as well as more complicated work, are all on him.

As for the political commissar... there is a high probability that he cannot be counted on.

The practice of the Astra Militarum has always been like this. Political commissars can boost morale and shoot deserters, but there are very few who have formal military education background and command capabilities.

"...Really!" 11-25 couldn't help but curse in a low voice, and when he subconsciously raised his head, he happened to meet the person walking into the bunker door.

renew.