Chapter 143 Cut It
Days spent in the Warp often made Ahriman feel like they were passing years.
In fact, the experience of leaving all worries behind and exploring the vast ocean itself often combined the characteristics of beautiful dreams and freedom.
However, if a psyker is trained by the Gene Father to constantly echo in his mind what thousands of dangers are hidden behind the colorful and gorgeous ocean in front of him, what traps and disasters are the truth of ocean currents and cliffs, and how violating the commandments will turn him into the corrupted flesh and soul-eating maggots named by Master Amon... then no matter how brilliant and beautiful the journey is, it will become a disgusting nightmare that makes people's stomachs churn.
It is difficult for him to imagine how those mortal navigators extradite the ship to guide the direction - perhaps they just haven't been repeatedly reiterated by his father about the potential pollution of the Warp.
"Brother Azak Ahriman." Someone woke him up from his meditation, and the voice was really mixed with the noise of metal pipes.
"Sergeant Iskus." Ahriman opened his eyes and greeted the captain of the Imperial Fists.
There was no superior-subordinate relationship between them, so Ahriman did not salute.
If he did, he was sure that the captain would press his shoulder armor to stop him silently, just like Iskus treated his subordinates.
There were not many organs on the sergeant's body that were still in the flesh and blood state. Metal limbs, servo joints and pistons replaced his flesh and blood body, and enhanced artificial eyes were embedded in the face wrapped in bare black shell and metal chrome.
Combining a lot of reading and a little reasonable speculation, Ahriman knew that this was the price paid for victory by the nano-flesh-eating bacteria from Iskus in the Unification War, and Iskus obviously proved with the subsequent glorious results that he did not need to sleep in fearlessness.
Iskus's prosthetic eye was fixed in the eye socket, and his remaining muscles did not support him to make more expressions. Ahriman knew that he was looking at him: "Can you confirm the location of the Ork warship again, Brother Ahriman?"
"I have sent my foresight into the mind of the navigator." Ahriman said, "When we emerge from the subspace and return to the real universe, there is a 50% chance of seeing the strange-looking Ork wreck."
"Is there any other useful intelligence?" Iskus asked.
"They are barbaric by nature," Ahriman closed his eyes again, and recalled the trajectory of the green-skinned orcs swinging their machetes in the dark, "with power that violates common sense. But they are no stronger than any alien team that the Iron Warriors have ever defeated... The firepower of two light cruisers is enough to repel this small ship."
"Cannot be annihilated." Iskus' eyes flashed with light in a literal sense, and his statement implied judgment.
In order to improve the flexibility of light cruisers and save energy supply, their firepower and armor are only about half of those of conventional cruisers. The combination of ship gun arrays and torpedo tubes can effectively damage the enemy, which is a question worth considering.
The captain of the Imperial Fists continued to ask: "Is it possible to board the ship?"
"If the captain of the Iron Warriors agrees." Ahriman said. "The skin of an orc is no harder than a chainsaw sword."
"Okay." Iskus replied, his metal parts made a tooth-grinding friction sound. Perhaps he should add some oil to himself. "After arriving at the destination, I will report our actions to the Gene Father. I have asked Captain Kedomo Fricks, and he gave exactly the same proposal as you based on his own combat effectiveness."
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The immaterial flames tore through the membrane of the warp, and the vortex violently hit the hull of the light cruiser. The physical gravity of the real universe and the waves of the warp acted on the ship at the same time. While bursting out a fleeting dazzling lightning, accompanied by the passengers' momentary sensory disorder and the curling and diffusion of Geller's position, the ship jumped out of the warp.
The bright spots marked on the auspicious instrument display made Ahriman breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that he had once again contributed to the fleet.
After another flash of light, the battleship where Fricks was completed the jump and appeared in the real universe.
Soon, the commanders of the two ships completed their pre-war reports and tacitly rushed to the tattered, half-hulled strange orc warship. Even if the warship was belatedly moved - carrying the embedded imperial transport ship completely wrapped in the strange force field shield, it could not escape the pursuit of the light cruiser.
"Kill them." Ahriman said to himself, put on his helmet, raised his force field staff, and found his position next to the Imperial Fist team in action.
Boarding began.
In another cruiser, Fricks decided to shout "for victory". He used to be a silent warrior, but the captain had to make some calls to action to drive the fighting will of other brothers.
However, what really encouraged the battle was the voice of Lord Perturabo in the headset, "annihilate the aliens," Perturabo said, "give priority to completing your own combat objectives, and if you can, keep a prisoner to obtain more information about the alien fleet."
Perturabo's voice directly injected endless energy into all the Iron Warriors present. Of course, no one expected to have the honor of finding their own pedestal in the memorial in such a miniature battle. Their marching enthusiasm was simply a determination not to disappoint the Gene Father.
Those ugly things with colorful checkered patterns on the green broken breastplates shook and screamed loudly, shouting out the alien language that no one intended to recognize, and hitting the torso of the Space Marines with crude huge blunt weapons.
Fricks's hammer smashed an orc's head whose stench almost penetrated his armor. After confirming the lethality of the bullets to the orcs, he ordered the team to give priority to long-range firepower coverage, and the tactics tended to be defensive counterattack. First, they cleared the greenskins who were squeezing each other in the narrow corridor and rushed over, stepping on the enemy's blood and biological epidermis that did not look like skin.
Static sound filled the communication equipment. It was unknown what caused interference to their communication, but this could not interrupt the tacit understanding of the battle formed within the Iron Warriors. Fricks stepped on the remains of humans who had died here before and the remains of orcs that were blown up by bullets. The sticky sound from the soles of his shoes was covered by the bombardment of artillery fire until the bolter in his hand made a click.
Laser weapons are not easy to use against orcs. The precise and fatal blows are just a harmless bloody wound for these monsters that are not animals.
Fricks clearly saw an orc with a brain pierced horizontally, still screaming and pressing an iron warrior to the ground with his companions. He decisively threw the grenade launcher to rescue his battle brother.
The roar of the spinning blade of the chainsaw sword replaced the attack of the kinetic weapon, foreshadowing the pain of death - although Fricks doubted whether these aliens who were cut and screamed really understood the meaning of the word pain.
He pressed the blade down and pulled it out, finding the correct rhythm of cutting and chopping in the chaos. The words of the gene father were once again verified, that is, the difference between the battlefield and the forge is far less than most people think.
Fricks's will was stretched at the end of the tool along with the pulse of muscles and blood, and the green monster broke into twitching pieces of meat and struggling blood clots under his hands. Calmness rather than fanaticism supported his movements, and his slashing showed calculated accuracy.
The battle brother threw the grenade launcher back to him, and Fricks caught it and hung it behind him. Ahriman was right, this lone alien was not strong.
When they met the bright yellow armored soldiers in the center of the ship, a warrior without a helmet and half of his body made of steel threw an ugly huge head in the middle of the open space.
"It looks like the leader," said Iskus. The more dirt stuck on the armor showed their preference for close combat. The hot breath steamed from their hot swords. "Continue to clean up?"
"Leave them alive?"
A warrior who should be red armor walked out of the team. His armor was stained with blood and it was difficult to distinguish the color. Fricks could barely make out the golden sun pattern on his shoulder armor.
Deep blue psionic energy controlled a small alien with broken limbs to float to the center of the open space.
"There is already a survivor." Ahriman said. "Although we don't speak the same language."
"Then, annihilate the alien." Fricks and Iskus looked at each other. "Kill all the orcs that our chainsaw swords can reach."