Warhammer: Start with a dog

"Wait a minute." Angron Petra's voice suddenly sounded full of memories and extremely tired, as if he had just experienced a beast war as a witness before this conversation took place.

"Wait a minute, so you are worthy of being the Lord of Olympus..." The voice of the 12th Primarch contained a sense of verification of "This is really going to happen like this" and a hint of "I really can't believe it." "Feeling suspicious," "Before we continue to talk about other outrageous facts, I would like to ask, when you two were still on the Iron Blood, did you often encounter some... um... famous ones? The presence?"

"Huh?" Lamizane was stunned by this sudden question, but he immediately recalled it, and several quite recognizable names flashed through his memory, "Yes, and many of them are still there. Is it...a stray express package delivered to your door?"

"Ah, the teacher's statement is true. It is indeed a gathering... I have no problem. Please continue to explain. Phobos is a relic battle moon. Okay, I also found Kali from the Desert Ark's database. The Sith Sector Development Team's investigation report on this place was written about fifteen hundred years ago. It did mention that there were orc tribe ruins on Phobos, and at that time they believed that the ruins themselves had at least thousands of people. Years of history, and Carrick's current orc infection comes from the crashed orc spaceship - so just leave it alone? The inquisitors in this sector will even set up a special intelligence group to deal with the shadows in this sector There are all kinds of problems in it, but they just left it like this where you can find something wrong if you look more carefully, and no one has ever taken care of it or investigated it carefully in more than a thousand years?!"

"Oh, is this weird? Angron, the Corpse Emperor's decaying empire is so huge and lacks order and efficiency. When their administrative tentacles were decentralized to planet-based places, their control was almost lost. It is normal to let the locals solve their own problems or be solved by them. Only the final missing reports of those Inquisitors may trigger some follow-up investigations - if their factions in the Inquisition still have some master-disciple relationship or face If so. Chi Chi."

No matter how you listen to the sinister intonation of Perturabo's electronic sounds, they are perfectly imitated, making people doubt that this genius has used his ingenuity on some strange little details.

“Look, look, this huge territory, it’s obvious that the empire wants to——”

Just when a certain black and white stuffed tyrant who became talkative and particularly venomous when talking about certain topics was about to publish his next harsh criticism, there was finally a new movement at the door of the reception hall.

Governor Alexei and his cronies filed in one after another with serious faces. The two guests inevitably noticed that some of the cronies were different from when they left - they seemed to be larger and more... gray. A little green? Is their skin looking dull the result of sunburn in the snow or an illusion? Are the details of their previous clothes like this? It should be said that the overall appearance of this group of Carrick people now becomes more... like the luxurious dress of Rogue Traders?

"Don't act rashly." After seeing the changes in the visitor, Lamizane specifically added, "Okay, it seems we will know the result soon."

After the Rogue Trader said his last words, he paused the communication. He adjusted his facial expression to a smile, then stood up and turned to the Planetary Governor, who was approaching him.

"I'm glad you're back, Lord Governor. Can I get my order?"

The governor's amber eyes glanced at the blue-eyed guest with a slightly strange look, "You seem to be very confident about the order, Mr. Carosini, haven't you thought of other possibilities?"

"I am very confident in the quantity, quality and variety of my product catalog." Standing next to the tall and silent Space Marine holding a bolt gun, the Rogue Trader said proudly.

The other party sighed, "Then it seems you are right. We really cannot refuse your long-term low-price supply contract. I have already asked my subordinates to get the map, so you can see which area to choose. However, I still want to remind you that although I can provide this place to you within the scope of my personal authorization, its ownership rights still permanently belong to the Imperial Ministry of the Interior and the Holy Throne of Terra. If they need to requisition..."

"I have a strange sense of déjà vu...but I understand what you mean, don't worry, look, we can work out supplementary clauses in the contract, such as the 999-year lease period and how to recover it at expiration, as well as compensation issues for early termination of the contract such as……"

While the Governor and the Rogue Trader began to bargain item by item on the parchment contract, a dialogue channel was quietly opened between the other two primarchs - of course the poor Astartes were still left outside. In the trenches, the order they received was to continue to stand by, and it seemed that they had almost forgotten it - the thunderstorm became stronger, and the ice particles in the wind and snow slapped their ceramic armor coldly -

Dassadra sighed, skillfully shook off the ice, snow and cold water from the shoulder armor and gaps, and began to take out some military supplies exclusively provided in the Iron Blood mess hall from the ammunition box next to it.

This move was questioned by Endred, who had been staring at him, "Hey, man, why do you look so used to it?"

The eighth company commander pointed to the waterproof tarpaulin that had been quickly unfolded and set up above their heads.

Now they were all sitting in squads in the trench, which had been widened again, surrounding the ammunition boxes piled high. Although what Dassadra took out was only some dry snacks and a self-heating teapot, it was undeniable that Endred had never seen this kind of combat habit in any Space Marine.

"You'll get used to it if you often have to wait in bad weather for a long time because you are forgotten -" the Iron Warrior's adjutant had already started to pour Rekka coffee and more energy candy cubes into the teapot, "Lamizan Master En told us that if this happens, just make some hot drinks to deal with it. Although our equipment and physical fitness are not afraid of such trivial weather problems, he believes that this waiting plan will actually help improve our morale. , and make the mind become more..." He paused, "Solid."

"Tsk. Interesting. No wonder." The unusually tall ancient terminator smacked his lips, then he tilted his head back and closed his eyes, as if trying to feel something.

In the space of a breath, the surrounding Iron Warriors more or less suddenly felt warm in their hearts.

A hot, positive supernatural force surged through their souls, just like the powerful strength, unyielding will and uninhibited enthusiasm of the heroic warriors turned into the tropical sea showers, sea breeze and sunshine, transforming the soul cabin The cobwebs, black mud, haze and any chaotic negative emotions accumulated in every corner are completely swept away, leaving only a relaxed mind, a refreshing feeling of high altitude and the warmth of the slight sun.

Everyone was speechless for a moment and looked at the eighth company commander who looked wild and fierce.

The iron-hearted hound squinted, picked up the sweet Reka coffee brewed in front of him, and drank it in one gulp.

"ha!"

A puff of white breath came out of his mouth.

"It's better to go as fast as this! The smell of your souls is really good."