Chapter 619: Unexpected Accident

"I heard you guys get along well."

Leaving the hall and turning around the corridor, the center of the steel-cast door was occupied by the gilded Imperial Eagle emblem.

Saluting to the Emperor Angels on both sides, 11-25 watched the huge Sky Eagle split into two under the operation of the private server, and then drove the entire door to split to both sides.

The projection of the Primarch was in the center of the room. The greetings and footsteps behind him made 11-25 slightly stunned.

Before he could speak, the people behind him couldn't wait to accuse:

"Not! My Lord!"

"I think so too." 11-25 squinted at Moore who hurried in, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but raise an arc.

"I have never seen a more primitive command system than this galaxy, let alone people who use these systems and backward military principles!"

"I have never seen such a barbaric military style, and I will definitely file a complaint against the Inquisition after the war!"

"Silence!" The representative of the Imperial Guards next to the projection stepped forward, and the thick counterweight cone of the halberd slammed heavily into the floor.

They did not know the identity of the helmeted Imperial Guards, but they were all reminded of the scene they were in.

"Please forgive me."

The two restrained their dissatisfaction and apologized to the projection of the Primarch, while Calvin waved his hand nonchalantly, obviously understanding the relationship between the two.

"Let's talk about business!"

As Calvin said, the Imperial Guards on both sides of the screen almost synchronized and opened the sand table of the battlefield situation.

A series of red dots in high-heat wars were marked one by one, and the Primarch specially enlarged several of them representing the inner ring of the galaxy.

"They don't have many ways, and time is on our side." Calvin made a judgment on the current difficult war in an affirmative tone.

The two generals continued to wait for the explanation of the Primarch so as to compare it with the global information they obtained due to their duties.

"The Inquisition and we have gained an advantage in the supernatural field. The Death Guard's reliance on the power of demons has been weakened, and the only option left is to attack honestly."

"God Emperor!" The two admired at the same time, and looked at each other with disgust at the same time.

"Well..." Calvin raised his eyebrows, but still ignored the two people's small movements.

"I know that the casualties on the front line are serious, and I also know that you have objections to the deployment of specific troops due to differences in tactical value assessment.

"But none of this matters!" Calvin waved his hand to strengthen his persuasiveness.

"This just shows that they have no good way, and this... rebellious legion. "

Calvin's projection turned around, and after organizing and considering the wording, he still said the name.

Anyway, in his eyes, after this battle, most of the local Astra Militarum will be classified as part of the Inquisition because of their contact with Chaos.

11-25 obviously knew about this, but Moore on the side obviously had not experienced this and was listening to Calvin's story in a daze.

"And... Mortarion," Calvin said:

"The strategy he and his legion are using now is the consumption-based play they are best at! And this is exactly the embodiment of returning the battlefield logic to their familiar field after they have failed with other means! "

"And you..."

He looked at the two generals, especially 11-25, whose sharp eyes almost penetrated his body.

The latter understood the intention of the Primarch, and did not dare to affect the war with personal emotions. At the same time, he also heard the task assigned to them by the Primarch:

"What you have to do is to stop the last struggle of these traitors at the most difficult time on the front line.

Because they will definitely react, although the consumption-based attack logic will cause casualties, it will not help achieve the purpose of the entire campaign!

After they react, they will definitely try to corrupt and infiltrate behind our defense line as a last resort.

Your task is to suppress the possible rebellion to an acceptable scale at this stage! "

"Your will." The two generals saluted under the gaze of the guards of the Imperial Guard, and Calvin continued to remind:

"Don't think it's easy! The troops on the front line are already in place and have their own places to go. You have very few troops to mobilize..."

Calvin looked at Gothic at this point, and his tone became deep because of the anticipation of a certain battle:

"This is destined to be an asymmetric war..."

——

Strong liquor is a catalyst for friendship, and so is gunpowder.

If you want two people with equally strong personalities to put down their barriers, defenses, and prejudices brought by their positions in the shortest possible time, and even let their personalities formed by different circumstances merge into one.

In addition to strong liquor, the forging of the furnace of war is probably the only choice.

Boom!

The air waves raised by the orbital strike are hot and suffocating, but what is really terrifying is the violent shock under your feet after the roar.

The shells of the near-Earth orbit bombardment come from naval guns, and any small caliber far exceeds the firepower limit of the Star Army.

Even though he was separated by a heavy armored dome, in a tunnel several dozen meters deep, 11-25 could imagine the mess on the ground from the huge ringing in his ears and the gravel bouncing around him.

"380mm, destroyer, at most twelve rounds, not one of us..."

11-25, lying on the ground, muttered in his heart, patiently counting the number of shells that fell to the ground.

"One of us?" The adjutant behind him couldn't help but ask.

"Ten... eleven... twelve... gone!"

The last shell finally exploded, just like the remaining boot fell to the ground. 11-25 stood up and tidied his general uniform, then calmly took off the military cap that the adjutant had just found from the ground, patted the dust and put it on again.

At this moment, the conscientious adjutant had already walked to the side of the car they were riding in and opened the door first. The accompanying guards also returned to the armored personnel carriers in front and behind the convoy.

Well... it's not that they question the quality of the products of the priests of the Forge World, but these soldiers who have been fighting on the battlefield for more than ten years know a truth:

All beings are equal under the naval guns, and it makes no difference whether you have a 15mm thick layer of ceramic steel on your head.

If you are unfortunately hit, you can get off the car and evacuate urgently. At least you can pick up a few more intact bodies after the bombardment under the occasional favor of the Emperor...

Bending over and kicking your legs, this young man in his thirties rubbed his lumbar spine with a grin when his back and the seat were firmly against each other;

Running to various battlefields for many years and irregular work and rest have caused his physical skills to degenerate severely.

Youth and health are too luxurious for the soldiers in this world. There is no longer a day in his twenties when he carried his comrades to run 20 kilometers.

He doesn't need to be told by others. His tightly pursed lips and the twenty or so shrapnel that cannot be removed from his body are telling him this fact with constant torture day and night.

The door was closed by the adjutant who was waiting for the car. The whole car was dimmed, and the convoy turned on the lights again and moved forward.

In the dark tunnel, the lights from the sentry post passed through the car window and drew a sharp silhouette on the face of the young adjutant next to him;

The active vitality and immaturity made him think of himself more than ten years ago when he saw this young man.

But which adjutant is this?

The seventh or the eighth?

He didn't remember, he only remembered that the previous adjutant died in battle just a week ago.

And the young man who was in the artillery fire that hour was as simple and immature as the one in front of him.

"A little-known fact." He rarely went into a rest state directly, but began to impart some battlefield knowledge to the ignorant young people around him:

"This thing is much more accurate when hitting our own people than the enemy..."

The atmosphere in the car became quiet again as the light dimmed, and only the engine of the mole was emitting a regular low hum.

The attitude of the Forge World towards the local Astra Militarum Army is different. Apart from other things, 11-25 can tell from the sound insulation of the vehicle under him that compared with the mass-produced goods they provide to the outside world, at least the performance in terms of three defenses has been greatly improved.

He has seen too many similar equipment differences near the assembly point and the headquarters after arriving at the second line of the battlefield.

This also makes him more aware that compared with the central army, the local Astra Militarum Army has a natural inclination and goodwill towards the Forge World in terms of stance.

This can't even be said to be deliberately done by the Forge World, but over the centuries, all the training and combat of the troops, the differences in the equipment and supplies they consume, have subtly created this change.

And when this difference accumulates for thousands of years, 11-25, who came all the way from Terra, doesn't even need to deliberately distinguish, and can easily detect the tension and vigilance hidden under the enthusiasm of the other side when the two troops come into contact.

"They are worried, worried about standing on the opposite side of the Empire."

11-25 secretly took note of this difference, which is also one of his duties as an officer of the Inquisition's direct troops.

These Astra Militarum troops, which are nominally affiliated with the Empire, are no longer as firm as they appear.

"General!"

"General!"

Raising his hand to perfunctorily respond to the guard's salute, 11-25 passed the sentry outside the camp and walked straight into the bunker in a corner of the camp according to his understanding of the Astra Militarum.

Lifting the heavy dust curtain, with the help of two guards, watching the airtight door in front of him being opened, he heard the dense calls from inside the bunker almost at the moment when the air inside and outside the bunker was connected.

"Calling the 807th Regiment! Report your position immediately!"

"91st Regiment! Where are you! Why didn't you enter the designated position on time!"

The command center of the legion was noisy, and 11-25 walked past several staff officers who saluted him during the call and walked to the huge sand table in the center.

He needed to grasp all the information about this front consisting of ten regiments in the shortest possible time.

And if the plan went as planned, after the chief officer here was shot by the political commissar due to unfavorable war situation, he and his new deputy should arrive here at about the same time and complete the handover of command with the current temporary chief officer (political commissar).

Oh, and.

If he remembered correctly, that damn Moore should have arrived at the battlefield next to him at this moment.

Click.

The artificial leather bag on his waist was opened, and the data board and the matching pen were taken out and placed on the corner of the sand table.

The staff around him were obviously busy, and the theoretical chief officer here, the political commissar, was nowhere to be found.

11-25 recorded the information he was concerned about one by one, and then bit the tip of the pen and subconsciously went into long thinking.

Gurgle...

The brain was still thinking, but the stomach and intestines had already protested first. He remembered that he had not eaten for dozens of hours.

The adjutant behind him obviously understood his superior's condition better. Just as he looked around blankly to find something to eat, the young man had already skillfully found a set of metal cups from the corner of the office, and then took a cup of Reka coffee and a few potatoes from the small kitchen next door.

"Hiss..." The almost corrosive liquid was swallowed in one gulp, and 11-25's eyes couldn't help but narrow slightly.

But his eyes still didn't leave the sand table, and his free hand subconsciously took his lunch from the adjutant.

And until he subconsciously stuffed the "Xiuzhen" thing into his mouth, he turned his surprised eyes to the young man behind him.

"Potatoes? I've been hungry for 30 hours! You just give me this to eat?"

"There's only this in the kitchen, nothing else." The young man looked a little aggrieved, but these were indeed all he could find.

11-25 didn't continue to pursue the matter, but waved his hand to signal the latter to find a corner to rest by himself.

When the young man's footsteps really went away, 11-25 turned around and wolfed down a few potatoes with coffee, wiped his hands on the bottom of his military uniform, and then frowned and looked at the back of the battlefield sand table.

"The division-level headquarters only has potatoes, so there must be a problem with the logistics..."

He muttered in his heart, and then followed the marching route shown on the sand table, looking for the material nodes one by one in the reverse direction.

Before he found the problem, a staff officer whose name was unknown, after connecting to a call in a certain direction, subconsciously exclaimed to him about the new news:

"What? General Vansfart can't come?"

"Why?"

"Dead?"

"How did he die?"

"Bombardment? Or his own people?"

The unnamed staff officer was still shouting, and 11-25, who heard the bad news, was already itching.

The deputy in the plan is gone, and according to this trend, the new deputy will have to wait until after this battle to take office.

But the decision-making level of only three people is missing one person, which means that the information collection and guidance of a series of units under his charge, as well as more complicated work, are all on him alone.

As for the political commissar... it is likely that he can't be relied on.

This has always been the practice of the Star Army. Political commissars can boost morale and execute deserters, but there are very few who have a formal military education background and command ability.

"...Really!" 11-25 couldn't help but curse in a low voice, and he subconsciously raised his head and happened to meet the person who was walking in at the door of the bunker.

Update.