Warhammer: Start with a dog

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(Since there is a really long and very boring chapter, the citizens of the Empire or the Great Demons who are not interested in the Imperial (Science) State (Learning) Real (Technology) Principle (Art) can skip it)

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"Let's talk about how to make it possible to grow crops here in six months, first of all."

Lami Zahn sat lazily in the highest bridge command throne, and the black and white long-haired cat arched its back and sat on his knees.

They were sitting in the empty war room, looking at the newly renovated bridge operation hall in the sensor. There were busy technical officers and crew members coming and going inside. Many people had just undergone new limb removal, skin grafting (to remove some "outdated" branding or tattoos) and prosthetic surgery, but everyone was in very good spirits.

Even the Cursed Echo itself.

This ancient cruiser once fell into the hands of the Red Corsairs, and it was so polluted by the inner crew that the Red Corsairs called it the Venomous Birthright, until Talos, under the final cover of the original Blood Covenant of the Tenth Company and the "Supreme" Vandred possessed by the Great Daemon of Tzeentch, escaped by jumping into the warp under the guidance of Octavia who was taken to the navigator's room.

And Lufrick's hunting groups responsible for patrolling the ceiling and the air had long reported the unusual steel bio-organization at the bottom of the ship, for example, when the claws dug into the bottom bulkhead, they would bleed-well, but now Octavia's report is that the Cursed Echo is satisfied every day and believes that it should obtain more weapons reserves to fill its ammunition magazine, and also requires more cleaning efforts on the ridge, flanks and outer armor.

"Although there is obviously no Primarch teacher on Nostramo, and you didn't like to listen to anyone's teachings when the Eighth Legion was handed over to you..."

(*At least I didn't tear Sevatar apart, I was listening to him.)

"You didn't tear it apart? He was just making fun of himself! Fortunately, you still know to cherish him most of the time." Raising his hand to suppress Curze's protest unhappily (*Hey, what do you mean?! What did I do to him?!), Ramizane continued, "Let's not go off topic, where we were just talking about, by the way, um, although you haven't read books, there are always things written in your genetic code. Do you know that 'desert' is a kind of terrain composed of something?"

(*(Nostramo gangster swear words) I was just forced to appear in the physical universe with the appearance of this creature! Not a real cat brain! - Of course, the desert is made of sand!)

"Yeah, very good, our small agricultural class will begin now."

Ramizane called up some data, images and tables on the panel in front of him, and straightened Curze's claws.

"According to the geological customs of ancient Terra, the sand in the desert mainly refers to silicon dioxide with particles that are small to a certain extent. Well, the obsidian of Tesaguassa is also a kind of silicon dioxide, so the properties are no different. When the sand and gravel in such a desert are in a purely discrete state, as soon as the never-ending winds and storms start to blow, they will scatter and start moving everywhere. Even if you take shelter from the wind inside a building, it will not work - water, liquid fertilizer or similar things will leak out from the gaps as soon as they are poured on, and there is almost no way to store water and nutrients for plant seeds and roots. Of course, there is no grass, not to mention the agricultural crops that still have strict requirements even after improvement. Let me remind you that even the Mechanicus's transformation plan is still to dig more basements and more mountains. - But this will completely fail to utilize the already meager stellar radiation here. I really don't know why they are so keen on hollowing out mountains to place algae cultivation tanks, which is a waste of time and effort. There is a kind of beauty that loses rational logic at this time. "

(*--wait--wait! You are right, why have they never thought about it, go on.)

"Sand is said In addition to fresh water, we need to talk about the necessary substrate for planting, soil. And soil is not what it looks like... Well, at least according to the meaning of the word "soil" in ancient Terra, it should be composed of mineral particles, water, microorganisms, air and organic matter. Under this composition, they will produce dynamic equilibrium interactions and influences, allowing the soil to produce a series of complex physical and chemical relationships, and ultimately allow plants to take root and grow on it. In other words, we need to make the sand at least have the ability to "become a rheological state when wetted by water - you can understand it as mud to mud", and as the water content in it decreases, it must also be able to become a solid state of agglomeration. In addition, qualified soil must be able to continuously transform between these two states. "

(*According to your statement, this planet is not suitable for planting at all. It is all sand and there is no soil. However, most of the plains have begun to produce crops now - your idea of ​​the variety and quality of crops is really too... The blood-red shadow on Valer's body has now developed more than the former Ursus. I have to eat its head every day. Can't you let him rest for a while or change someone else?)

"No. Dietrian is not a biological sage. His talents are indeed far in the fields of machinery, psychic power and anatomy, but he is not as good as Valier in terms of biochemistry. Besides, Dietrian is too busy. His assistant Endless Gap has already boarded the departing ship."

(*Where did we get the merchant ship? And how could you do business normally?)

"Oh, this, in fact, we used the Crown Coronation to transport it to the vicinity of the destination, and then used Dietrian's small boat. Well, uh, in fact, I issued a highly confidential permission for the merchant wanderer in the name of the Lord of the First Army, so that the Ultramarines will not come to the ship for inspections. Of course, I also want to thank you for the genetic verification you provided."

(*... You are really... You are really... Hahahahahaha! Hahahahaha! I can't wait to see the expression on my good brother's face after knowing all this! Hahahaha!!!!)

Lami Zahn waited until Curze got up from his rolling posture of laughing, and then he put his claws in place and continued.

"So to put it another way, as long as you can find out what makes soil different from sand and show the functions that soil should have, and add it in, you don't have to worry about whether it is real soil or not. As long as it can make plants grow like soil, retain water, nutrients and roots, it's fine. At most, it's solid soilless cultivation. People on this planet have done it in the past few hundred years?"

(*...? But how do you know what materials to use? In what direction to research? Valer is an Astartes pharmacist after all, not a biological sage, and even if the research is successful, such large-scale implementation is impossible directly... Damn cursed blood! Are you?!)

"Yeah, look." Ramizane's finger slid across the data board with satisfaction, and the tender sprouts of plants in a greenhouse on it were emerging from the moist black muddy sand. "It is very useful to use the prophecy talent at this time. Just look at a panel with different ratios and materials to see the final experimental results..."

(*You, you are too crazy!! You use the ability to win the war and one world after another to see if sand can turn into mud?!)

"Thank you, I feel very accomplished to hear this from you, but in my opinion, military and agriculture are not in conflict. In addition, the second vision can not only be used to check the ratio of sand adhesive, but also to see how much and how thick it is put in a gridded field, and even whether the newly researched genetic chimeric crops can successfully grow the desired fruits..."

(*(Incredible Nostramo swear words) (screaming))

"You see, your talent is not a curse, midnight ghost, you are the darkness before dawn, you are the real hope."

(*...(Suspicious silence))

The Lord of the Eighth Army silently hid his furry head in the wide folds of the toga.