Warhammer: Start with a dog

"Although I've been tired of saying 'incredible' in the past month, I still want to say: 'incredible.' Regent Gallus, in such a short period of time, I have seen that the yields and varieties of all farms on Tessaguassa, as well as the development of new underground hydroponic farms and new residential facilities have begun to bear fruit." After quickly browsing the thick report sent by the logistics department of the Eighth Legion, which was in charge of Malcharion and had improved its efficiency and organization by more than 10,000 times, Ramizane said with satisfaction to the reserved but proud Regent Gallus sitting opposite him. "This is entirely due to the generosity and kindness of you and your noble warriors." The old man responded sincerely, "Being able to re-establish effective communication channels for various settlements and use such precious aircraft to transport materials and personnel has greatly encouraged everyone on the planet, not to mention that you have also sent those handsome and noble warriors like gods to take off their armor and join us in our work... Now the enthusiasm and enthusiasm of the people in their work are unprecedentedly high, and everyone is looking forward to a new life in the future." The old regent bowed devoutly in the direction of the sun that the local residents believed. Eagle Salute, "May the Emperor bless you and your warriors, and may the glory of the throne always keep you and your warriors unscathed, and crush the enemy into dust."

"Ahem. Um. Yes." Thinking of those Astartes of the Origin Chapter who were coaxed, deceived and threatened by him and Malcharion to various farms and construction sites to be used as intelligent animals... as human flesh measuring instruments, pesticide dispensing scales, soil analyzers, concrete mixers and other self-propelled small power and professional machinery, even if Ramizane was thick-skinned, he was still a little embarrassed. He selectively ignored the repetition of certain prayers and immediately found a new topic for himself.

(*I didn't expect you to be embarrassed by such a thing? I thought you didn't have such a thing.)

"Ahem, how is the construction and early resettlement of new shelters going? This is crucial, Gallus, most people will have to take refuge in these places at that time."

"Ah, everyone has been notified." The old man frowned tightly, "But sir, will there really be aliens coming to attack? I mean, our place... is really too..." He looked for a suitable adjective, "too remote." At the same time, the quest in his eyes was not ignored by the Primarch's eyesight.

(*Haha, this mortal has become suspicious. He will think that it was you who actually attracted the aliens. You have helped them for a whole month, but he still starts to doubt you so easily. I have said long ago that mortals only need to be dominated by fear. It is simple, clear and efficient. Crush them and leave no room for anyone who disobeys. Only the weak will try every means to persuade them with emotion and reason!)

"--You mean there is no target or value worth attacking here. Even the Empire has not responded to you. Why did the aliens come to this place on purpose, and why did I get this news in advance?" The Lord of the Eighth Army picked up the coffee cup made for him by his descendants-there was still no Reka coffee in it, but some drinks from the Crown Coronation, which tasted a bit like the sweetness of some plant saponin mixed with tubers, which can refresh you, and it is better than nothing.

"Yes, sir, I am ashamed, but if you have any opinion on this, can I listen to it?" Although he shrank because of a certain statement made by the great lord, and he also felt the dissatisfied gazes and invisible terrifying pressure from the Astartes monks who were guarding him, the old man continued to ask. After all, this not only involves all mortals on this planet, but more importantly, the entire defense plan sounds completely different from those well-prepared agricultural and industrial plans. It is not only disorganized, but also more like a record of some kind of... rambling.

————————

Pharmacist Valer sat in front of his laboratory table.

Even with his cold or calm characteristics of not changing his face when he saw his limbs being torn apart by demons, he still looked a little solemn at this moment. After all, this was first of all the mission of the Primarch - well - no matter which Primarch - secondly, he had never done such... delicate work before, and finally, this batch of samples was very valuable, and he only had one chance.

The first sample... No, no differentiation, the second... Contaminated, the third, still contaminated... The sixty-sixth... How did this thing grow into this (beep) appearance? It's only fit to be thrown into the incinerator. Seventy-seven... Actually this one is okay, but I don't think the Lord of the Night will like it, eighty-eight... Damn it, this thing really wasn't licked by Ursus? Get into the incinerator. Ninety-nine... OK, success. The Eye of Canaan!" He held his breath carefully and put the precious living sample back into the force field cover, then he straightened up and turned around, buckled his helmet on the magnetic lock at his waist, and let out a long breath. "Huh..."

Only then did he realize that the experimental slave assigned to him was standing at the door... his assistant, that was their new prisoner, a young man from the third company of the Origin Chapter, his name was Penates, and now this man was not wearing any clothes. A, instead wearing ordinary Chapter training clothes, with his slave collar fastened around his neck - prisoners who were allowed to move around freely to some extent had one on their necks, and they were told that this collar was also connected to another The gene-seed, life and soul of a chapter brother - when all three are simultaneously considered on the scale as a reason for betrayal, the captives who have already left the collective will become more... cooperative.

But Penates has always been a very clever man, but now he looks as stupid as a drooling Ogryn. His eyes, which look very close to silver due to the extremely thin distribution of blue pigment, are working hard. Staring at Valier, he almost looked like his eyes were about to fall out of his sockets due to extreme surprise and fear.

"What are you doing here if you don't come in with a new batch of culture medium... stupid...?"

Valier's words stopped for several breaths, and he suddenly realized one thing: because he moved and lived with the Night Lords, but his eyes could not see things in the dark like they did, he had become very accustomed to it. I don’t take off my helmet to adapt to the darkness, but this new underground laboratory is bright enough...

Former Star Claw, former Red Corsair, and current Night Lord Apothecary, "Skinned" Valiel's silver eyes looked back coldly at the first sub-regiment established by the Ultramarines in the Second Founding of the Army. , the Penates of the Glorious Origins Chapter.

Although their appearance is not exactly the same.

But the genetic signature of the same ancient gift was clearly expressed in every face of the two Astartes facing each other.

The air temperature around them dropped rapidly.

Valier frowned, cursed in a low voice, and rushed towards Penates, who started to kneel on the ground in pain while holding his head.