Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Baraboo had no idea where he was going to make a fuss next. He glanced outside the window. This place was always so dark. He wanted to dye it green! After all, is this messy, dark and terrible place called the universe? The place is really boring and ugly.

Barabu pulled the arm of a dead shrimp and squeezed the red and sticky juice from the thin and weak arm onto the window. Although it was not as energetic as the green one, it was not so boring this time.

Anyway, they just put everything they could in this big little shrimp boat waaagh! ! Everything exploded into rotten fireworks, and the boys were spitting and tearing each other's teeth everywhere. The excited shouts almost pulled a big hole out of the broken boat. After a few o'clock, there will be a big hole. The bigger, greener and smellier boy screamed and paste the rotten teeth of the other boys with bad breath and yellow color onto the blood-stained wall. It can be said that everything is full of vitality. Alas, these stupid and clumsy boys always need a little fun to keep their solid skulls humming with joy.

"Gee, this is so fucking waaagh!" Daraz suddenly shouted, "What are those little shrimps doing! What a big boat! Maybe we can build one too!"

Barabu glanced out the window again. Isn't there nothing?

Based on the confidence that he could twist off Daraz's head when he was not injured and almost dead, he decided to continue to treat Daraz as his number one confidant. x ̸͍̘̳͂͊̂̊̀͊̕͘.̷̹̦̆̆c̶͙͈͚̽̄̈̎̒͜ó̶̧̧̝̳̠͇͕̺̲̹̔̈́ ́՝͝m̷̗͓̽̂̌̋̌̌

He scratched his Ling Guang's head with dirty fingers: "What are you yelling about? What the hell are you talking about!"

"Look at this bright little thing," Daraz said, holding a green tablet over to him. The bright color immediately made Barabu feel energetic. "There is a boat pulled by thieves here. On the boat There is a golden shrimp who has been bullied by thieves, and he talks nonsense. "

In the middle of this shiny shrimp thing, there is a very big and round boat, almost half the size of the shrimp's hometown. There is a golden shrimp on the deck, which is bigger than Barabu himself. , chattering nonsense like "conquering the galaxy" and "the glory of the Sky Eagle". After finishing speaking once, the illuminated tablet flashed and he immediately returned to the beginning.

Barabu grabbed the tablet Tuanba Tuanba, shaped it into a small cake and stuck it on his iron armor. He was already attracted to the big ship. It's such a powerful ship, waaagh, it's so exciting to get on it, it's like a fart flying out of the barrel of a gun!

"Boss!" A kid jumped all the way over. After his legs were cut off by Xiami's big knife last time, his two big feet were simply replaced by two big bouncing springs, "Gasky Big Toe called to us. Let’s meet up at Brother Go’s stinking number, we have work to do!”

"Who the heck, Scrooge, knows how to drive a shrimp boat?" Baraboo cursed, wondering whether Gasky might also want to take away the golden shrimp boat, "Put us in the most disgusting number in Goge. go!"

Gaskey Big Toe stood on the deck of the big hulk in an awesome manner, watching the big guys under his command return to their stinking big brother in a variety of shabby shrimp boats that emitted black smoke and lost parts. No., several small boats also blew up each other with big bang bang fireworks.

When he thought about it, the dead ones were all thinking about peeling off his thick iron shell every day. His cunning and clever mind immediately figured out that these things that were not green enough died well, and he couldn't help but grin. These Scrooge-raised things, he, Gaskey Big Toe, has gathered these motley crew of no-names that the tribe doesn’t want, and why is there such a thing as Gaskey, who has the guts to stand up to our God-given blessing!

When this smelly, messy and colorful group of miscellaneous people gathered together, Gaskey slapped Walazi next to him, and Walazi immediately stepped forward dizzy.

"Our boss has something to say. Come here, I will see it, and I will snatch it away! Do you all see what that big shrimp boat looks like? Listen to me, the warboss has spoken. We are going to dye that round boat green. !”

"Let's go over there first, let's fly over there with a splash, and then give the big boat a shot of his ass, to see if this cowardly shrimp thing is hard enough, and whether it can be rough and domineering. !”

——

"No response," Dorn said, placing his hands on the console surface. "Part of the world belonging to Inwit has lost contact."

This was the first battle meeting held on the Phalanx, and the location was the strategy room of the Phalanx.

Rogal Dorn stood on the command podium, and Perturabo, the Primarch of the Iron Warriors, was located on the long table closest to the Primarch of the Imperial Fists. The remaining seats are filled by the Imperial Fists' command hierarchy. Aeolus was one of the two warriors sitting next to Perturabo, and Cicero sat opposite him, his face set with red gold and the scars of the Battle of the Moon.

Aeolus was the commander of the 7th Legion before Rogal Dorn returned to the Emperor's banner. Now, he was adjusting to everything about Rogal Dorn, such as the fact that discussions in the stratagem room would be driven first by warriors rather than by leaders.

If the reason for Perturabo's reticence was that he was avoiding interfering too much in the command of his brother legions, then the genetic father on the command podium was probably born to be a silent leader.

Rogal Dorn undoubtedly holds the overall responsibility and has no intention of delegating power. As long as he is present, every instruction must eventually pass under his watchful eye. However, his control over the Imperial Fists was by no means a result of a superficial desire for power, and he also did not want to be the center of the crowd, because all of his actions were rooted in his precise understanding of his own abilities and responsibilities.

Rogal Dorn stood still and waited, listening to every voice in the strategist room, looking for every error or dissonance, and picking out the doctrines he particularly recognized and finalized.

Aeolus decided to speak, so that the air in the huge, overly silent room would no longer be so stagnant. "Are the fragments of ammunition we collected that attacked the Phalanx sufficient to judge the enemy's technological level?"

A holographic projection answered him: "We are still salvaging the fragments, they flew too far."

"We saw artillery shells, but no battleships entered the auspicious range." Captain Appius said, "The enemy has a subspace engine."

"We need to seize the time," Chisero said, "to prepare for a new round of enemy attacks. The rashness of the first attack may just be an attempt to make us relax our vigilance."

"The Iron Warriors are waiting," the armored Primarch said, his voice flat and no louder than the other Astartes warriors. Already seated at the long table, he deliberately avoided being superior to others.

"We have replenished supplies and personnel during the construction of Invite, and no one can cross the temporary defense line without paying the price." Perturabo said.

Dorn suddenly spoke, his tone powerful enough to hit the middle of the long table like a boulder.

"Accelerate the salvage of debris." said the Primarch, "open access to the analysis room to my brother Perturabo. At the same time, suspend the repair and construction of conventional equipment and relief decorations, etc., and immediately invest resources in launch ports, gunboats, prisons, Torpedoes, macro cannons, void shield generators and medical bays.”