Warhammer: Start with a dog

"So how do you plan to encounter the expedition led by the Son of Dorne?"

Uselma Atla picked up the tea cup that he liked recently, took a sip of the fragrant and refreshing orange blossom water, briefly asked a question, and then opened the big book hanging on his waist and took a leisurely look. Read up.

In contrast, Lamizane was sitting behind his big desk, holding his head in his hands in pain.

"Why are you so happy to have a drink after hearing this kind of news?"

"Why didn't I?" Ma'atra ran her fingers through the pages of the book made of Thoth Temple sedge. "You see, I still completed it perfectly despite the lack of a sufficient number of psykers. My duty in the war group: The prophet group should use prophecies to guide the future direction and combat goals of the war group. Didn’t I do everything well? I only predict and inform you of the results. People who have a headache for this It’s not me.”

"Then why don't you talk to Perturabo? - He's right next door." The Chapter Master lay on the table and raised his head towards the psychic advisor with a ferocious face, "Perturabo is in charge anyway. His legion and planet are nearly ten thousand years old, and they have even invaded the solar system and Holy Terra. Although he is a bit of a naval battle, wouldn't it be better to approach him for such small matters?"

"Tsk, tsk, that's not possible," the chapter's psychic advisor raised a finger and shook his head at the chapter leader, "The venerable Perturabo is busy now, don't disturb him. So that's why he commissioned I, his brother-close friend, am here to tell you how to do some daily work that can help him share."

"This kind of thing can no longer be called daily work! Can this kind of thing be called daily work?!"

There was a look on Lamizane's face that you could see on Gutera's face when he was awakened by a mass overtime notification on WeChat when he planned to spend a weekend vacation and even thought about how long to sleep and which group of chess pieces to paint. A painful expression.

"Can this kind of encounter with the Imperial Fist Expedition be called a daily routine? Although I have changed my appearance and my name, I have not forgotten that this is the Iron-blooded ship! This is the Iron-Blooded ship! Steel, iron, warriors The flagship! And they are the (expletive Gu Terra) Empire’s Fist!”

"It's just a small expedition fleet. It's not like they brought the mountain formation over." A look of disapproval appeared on the face of the mortal young man. "They only have one capital ship."

"Since it's so simple, how about you take charge."

"Reject. This is your job. I am only responsible for guiding, communicating and executing."

"Shouldn't the work of guiding novices include teaching me step by step how to fight a space naval battle in this time?!"

"Not included. I said it before, because I don't see the need for teaching. It's not difficult at all, as long as you have the skills."

"No?! For example, you said there is only one battleship, but they are still a fleet after all! If there is a battleship, I think there should be at least a company of Space Marines on it! Who leads the company, and the route trends? I don’t even know... Oh wait, although you have divined that we will encounter the Imperial Fist expedition, so you can also use it in reverse. I mean, use your power skillfully to let us Just avoid them?"

"Avoid it?" Uselmalatra closed the book with a snap and sat up, "Did you make a mistake?"

His blue-green eyes narrowed sternly, "Are you not confident at all about the power you have now? Or do you have no idea at all?"

"Of course I know the power we have, so I don't have any confidence at all."

"Oh? Then tell me, how much power do we have on hand now?"

The body of the Fourth Primarch paused slightly for 0.0001 milliseconds at an extremely slow speed compared to the Primarch, and Uthelma Atla's psychic auxiliary vision could see some ultra-high-speed tiny light spots shining on the opponent's retina. Internal skimming.

"We now only have one iron-blooded ship disguised as a moon-level ship, one Iron Warriors veteran with less than 10,000 men, mortal technical officers, chapter servants and crew members with less than 10,000 men, and a company in name only has three squads. New recruits in training, plus a think tank chief who is lying in the medical room so he can't be counted, a priest who also serves as a think tank, and two pharmacists. In the end, even if we count you, we still can't even get two full combat companies. Come out. - Even if I can try to deal with one, I can't let Perturabo come on stage, right?! What if he floats away?! Is he being dog-pawed in the universe?!"

Lamizane became anxious as he spoke. He stood up suddenly and started walking back and forth in the office.

"This is really too bad! We are so weak and helpless! Alas! I was too anxious when I escaped before. After escaping, I relaxed and indulged in dawdling! Too lazy!"

"..."

Utherma Atra put down his teacup and was silent for a moment.

The psychic consultant began to really understand why Perturabo had that look of relief, looking down on everything, lamenting life, and a little bit of a good show on that handsome black and white dog's face when he asked him to come over to do this. .

"Allow me to interrupt, are you counting only the living, our Chapter Leader?"

"Isn't the 'vital force' considered a living person?" The other party looked at him innocently, "We don't have that kind of very easy-to-use abomination intelligence to do real-time analysis, suggestions, feedback and command, and the Iron Blood doesn't carry any ancient Iron Man super Intelligent AI, I mean, the Iron Blood was not built with Dark Age technology, so even if it has an organic soul, it still has to be driven by a living person. Fortunately, Captain Walter is always here. By the way, let’s put it this way, we You should be able to escape just by running, right?!”

"..."

The fifteenth Primarch, who had regained his second life, began to feel that perhaps his behavior of squatting in the Great Pyramid of Tizka, pretending to be an ostrich with autism, with a nest of wolves above his head, didn't look that good. ·What·is·stupid and escaping.

"Did you not take into account the combat effectiveness of the Iron Blood at all?!" the green-eyed advisor asked in disbelief, "We have a fully equipped and energy-rich Queen of Glory except for not having enough pilots. A super battleship!"

"But, but!"

"But what?!" Uthelma Atla began to consider whether to simply tell him to just try to command. If that didn't work, she could help overload all the engine rooms of the opponent's fleet with psychic energy.

"But isn't it all about naval battles?!"

"What?! That's ridiculous! Who taught you this?!"

"I see that everyone is talking about this. It makes sense to some extent," their chapter leader gestured excitedly, "and the opposite side is the Imperial Fist. If they use teleportation and jump to help, How to deal with this combination of tactics? We only have Terminators, not even Tai Wuwei."

"...Where are your huge Iron Ring Guards and robots? You didn't include yourself and them at all, did you?!"

Now the psionic consultant has become a ferocious-looking person. The dark-skinned young man's slender fingers grasped the corners of the thick silver armor of the giant who was three times taller than himself. His rounded nails made a harsh friction sound on the surface of the power armor's coating. .

"W-What to do?!"

"Come on, come on... It seems that I really need to teach you a lesson...!"

Gua.

There is one more chapter, currently being typed