《40 Thousand Reasons》Recruiting - Chapter 37
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Rose met me in my apartment, already dressed in her sanctified armor.
"Back to your job, my dear Rose?" I asked in a light voice.
"Yes. I'll have to recruit a new retinue. So what did you find?" she asks as her Deathwatch marine takes position beside Ludvaius.
"What the Angel did won't stop with my hand. I'll slowly transform into a bulky guy with too much strength. The extra brains will be helpful though." I explained and kissed her cheek.
She smirked and measured me up and down. "A neophyte body? I bet you could last in bed for weeks." Rose murmured and blushed a little as her eyes glazed in anticipation.
"Hush woman! Go back to death and duty." I exclaimed in fake outrage and sat down in my creation chair, holoscreens and incipient 3D conversion engines powering up.
The Canticle's Machine Spirit seemed quite eager to help me experiment with the STC templates.
Ludvaius stood behind me, learning the craft from me and sometimes providing important clues why some weapon or emplacement was built in illogical ways.
I opened the Weasel's STC template and compared it with the original Centaur troop transport of the Astra Militarum. A dozer blade wouldn't be of use for a patrol vehicle, except to clear obstacles, like fallen trees and dead bodies.
But a small, lighter one in a fixed position could serve as both a ram and protection against explosions and mines. Two extra plates of plasteel on the sides would protect the tracks and also take the brunt of an explosion.
Then I changed the autocannon for a lascannon remote turret and a missile launcher.
The saved weight from the lack of a big manned turret, would allow more armor and more fuel. The lascannon wouldn't be limited by ammunition, and it hit 10 times harder than the autocannon, if also at a slower rate of fire.
However, the main problem of the land armies was not the fire volume. Millions or billions of lasguns provided sufficient volume, but not enough strike power, to pierce armor or chitin plates.
But now, this tiny and cheap machine would be almost equivalent to a power armor suit in durability and firepower and just as fast in straight lines.
To compensate for the reduced suppression fire, I added an addendum: The Laser-Weasel pattern of the Centaur transport is designed to operate in groups of 5 to 10, covering each other as they advance or retreat.
Now, because the STC template said so, the Army commanders will have to deploy larger groups, which squads would obviously be much stronger than a single such unit alone on some road.
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I needed about 70 thousands such machines for my PDF regiments, to provide my 70 feral worlds with a degree of motorization and anti-armor ability, and Forge World Estaban should be nice enough to build them. In a year they should be ready.
Another variant was the old Weasel but with a long wagon on wheels tracked behind it. This would help logistics immensely, able to ferry food, water, ammo and even soldiers. Suppressive fire from the autocannon would help deter looters, pirates or criminals from attacking the convoy. I wanted 70 thousand them as well, but even a tenth of that will suffice right now.
Then I drank a big cup of caf, and loaded the new Volcano Cannon, which is simply a big laser lance weapon, normally mounted on Titans or Baneblades.
After adjusting it a little, I fit the schematic over the Volcano Lance template and superimposed them in the holoscreen.
Sadly I had no more helpful tech-priest to help, but Ludvaius had the brains and the implant. "What do you see, my friend? Same weapon in two sizes. So why isn't the schematic simply a larger version?"
I asked as I began marking the differences with red outlines.
"I'd say...because same weapon would break under its weight if you just make it bigger. Just like with space ships, right?" the Blood Angel wondered seeming unsure.
He was correct, but the Mechanicus could have simply used more durable alloys. But no, what the Fabricator gave me was the Mark II Teracharge Volcano Cannon, which was too strong even for Titans. I did say I intended to mount them on corvettes.
I powered up my savant implant and started to work, examining each component for flaws or easier construction.
Then all of a sudden my alert went off, the maximum 8 hours of work completed for today. I saved the progress and went to my jacuzzi to relax, also calling Henna to aid me with that.
Being a big-shot Captain had perks too, not just getting shot at by big Chaos traitors.
Some time later, my wife rested in my lap, and examined my strange hand. "You were blessed by an Angel of the Emperor, husband. I fear this means more trouble will come for you."
"Of course it will, my love. Hopefully it will be more xenos or traitors that I can best with weapons. The corrupted rulers in the Imperium worry me much more." I explained in a soft voice and played with her generous body, the one who gave me Finona, our Blank ship captain.
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A soft growl emerged from Ludvaius but I ignored him.
"Those Adepta Sororitas keep asking questions about you. Your crew, your family, even the tech-priests." Henna muttered with an accusing glance at my bodyguard.
I had to get rid off them. Forge Ryza contacted this Hospitallier chapter to aid with injuries and morale, but they were overstepping.
I tapped my ear. "Victor, take Astartes Thrasius and a company of void marines, and expel those sisters down to Estaban. If they refuse, shoot first." I ordered and laid back to rest.
"This isn't wise, Captain." Ludvaius said in a stern tone.
"My ship, my rules. If they don't like it, I expect an Angel will arrive to slap my hand." I argued in a dismissive voice.
I was indeed worried they might uncover something, and then report me to some fat slimy bishop who will simply order them to murder me. It might happen anyway.
Then I just waited for my son to report repelling the zealot boarders.
For once, the Sisters didn't choose to martyr themselves like they usually do, and departed the Canticle for the Vanquished while singing loudly.
I bet they weren't all that happy inside though.
A week later, I met one of them inside the medical research facility, waiting for me in a graceful poise.
"Captain Lancefire! Please, hear me out." she asked in a rather inciting voice.
"Ludvaius, if she sings at me, crush her windpipe." I said in a careless tone, while the Astartes stepped to the side, ready to crush the pipes.
"No singing, Lord Pef. I reflected upon my actions and indeed we may have been imposing on your crew and family. But we need to know!" she demanded in a fervent voice.
I stepped closer to her and stared into her pure blue eyes. "The whole Church is corrupt the bones, Sister. You wear a weapon, when the decree explicitly said the Church may not have soldiers. The Imperium has more than enough armed orders, and the Church holds the highest authority anyway. You are the symptom of that disease, pretty sister. Join the Imperial Guard or the Navy if you want to serve, not some fat, stinky..." I growled in distaste and walked around her.
I didn't walk fast enough.
"Alright! I will leave the Hospitalliers. Let me join your crew." she yelled at me back.
Damn it. She really was obsessed. But then again...I turned around and hugged her to my side. Really great body on her, as expected from a warrior order.
"Excellent news, my dear. I could use a medic for my crew. The job is not very safe though. Demons and xenos abound in the Eastern Fringe." I whispered as if it was a big secret.
"The Emperor protects! I've seen it with my own eyes. Your wish is my command, Captain Pef." she murmured a bit demurely and tone raising into a squeak.
Right, close contact with a man wasn't allowed. For Sisters.
"Report to the landing pad, medic. And see if there are others who wish to explore the galaxy in style." I told her with barely restrained mirth. My Rose will have a fit at my new retinue.
Then I went to undergo a long batch of tests and sample takings, with a dozen Biologis Magi spinning blood vials and slicing away at my holy hand.
It was quite boring, but I had my savant implants to continue working on the Volcano STC at a slower pace.
A month later, I had an early model for a corvette worthy lance, with its autonomous atomantic reactor dedicated for it, as to not strain the engines or the void shield during combat.
Pretty much like an infantry lasgun worked, with the powerpack battery.
Then I doubled, tripled and quadrupled the barrels for better range and rate of fire, til I knew I had something amazing, if quite expensive.
I decided to mount a twin-linked plasma bombardment cannon and two quad-lance batteries on the newest corvette model. Plasma worked better to break void shields, but the technology was clunky and risky and prone to explosions.
That turret was fixed on the outside of the hull, and due to the costly lessons learned here in the Battle of Estaban, I also decided to armor the turrets further, with a 10 centimeter thick adamantium cover.
Already tech-priests and servitors were scavenging the useful remains from the lost Navy ships, and even recovered enough iridium plates from my corvettes to start building new ones right away.
On the third month, Estaban's surface was declared free of invaders, the last Chaos pockets of resistance burned alive or sent into the Warp.
In space this took much longer, and even after 11 months there were still sightings of Chaos raiders prowling the edges of the system.
But they lost hugely in this adventure, at least a thousand ships and 15 heavy ones, battleships and battlecruisers.
Even if they had Dark Mechanicum Forges in the Eye of Terror, ships took a long time to build.
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The Badger Dungeon
[Participant in the Royal Road Writathon challenge] Dungeons. Everyone's heard of them. Sprawling maze-like places where you can find special objects that can't be found anywhere else in the world, train to become a great warrior or wizard, and slay dozens of monsters. Drops! Loot! Glory! What more could you want? Dungeons are places of danger and adventure, full of thrills and maybe even romance, where people enter as your normal and everyday person but leave as a hero. Even a child knows what a dungeon is! A dungeon is controlled and ruled over by its Dungeon Core, a mana crystal that's gained sentience, and with it a mind just as twisted as the home that it makes for itself. Dungeon Cores all have very simple wants and needs: to expand and to devour, and to that end, they'll do absolutely everything and anything within their power. Everyone knows that. Sometimes, though? Sometimes the Dungeon Core doesn't know that. Sometimes they wake up all alone, confused and with no clue what they should do, and find themselves quickly becoming the home to a family of badgers and other creatures. The Dungeon Core can be left struggling to figure out their role in the world and how exactly they're supposed to achieve it. They're really doing their best, and you shouldn't judge them for it! The badger thing was a complete mistake but there's just no way they can turn back and fix it so they're just trying to make do, okay?! What would you do in their situation?! Cover art was made with pixel assets from Szadi art and 0x72.
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