40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 747 36. Preparations before War (I)

"I saw in the paper, Cawl, that you designed a new kind of power armor," said Caryl Rohals.

Belisarius Cawl had no reaction. He was the only listener here, but he had no reaction to these powerful and calm words. He was still buried in his workbench, adjusting a huge machine with his two appendages.

"And we need it, at least 5,000 sets to supply the vanguard troops."

The Casting General still ignored this and just increased the speed of his appendages.

Soon, the huge machine made a very heavy muffled sound - but this did not mean success, because Cole quickly threw it away the moment he heard the sound.

Like a cannonball, it landed in the deepest part of his workshop with billowing black smoke, illuminating that dark area as bright as day at the cost of its own shattering.

"Can you do that, Call?"

The Casting General turned around a little awkwardly, looked at the light blue projection in front of him, nodded slowly, and then spoke in a serious tone, ignoring the failure that had just occurred.

"Five thousand sets is not a problem, my lord, I assure you. But that set of armor is still just a prototype, a test piece, a crude and untested design."

"It was published in the newspaper because of a small deal between me and Lord Perturabo, and also because of my own selfishness. If you want me to turn it into a reliable mass-produced product, I will have to go through a long process of debugging and data collection.

“And these two things cannot be erased by my personal knowledge or wisdom.”

He raised his hands, stretched out his index fingers, and then stretched his arms horizontally until he reached the limit and indicated a distance.

"There are no shortcuts in scientific creation. If the prototype wants to break free from its shackles and make further progress, it can only use this stupid method of continuous trial and error and continuous improvement. Therefore, I would like to ask a question, sir. How long will it take before the army sets out?"

"In the best case scenario, five natural months." Khalil's projection gave the answer. "However, considering various circumstances, this time may be extended to about seven months."

Cole blinked habitually. His artificial eye looked particularly funny in this situation, because for some reason, he had equipped this artificial eye with a flashing function that was no different from blinking.

His only remaining physical eye closed and opened again, but the prosthetic eye kept flickering, as if it had suffered a serious operating error - but this was actually just a weird and dry humor. The Casting General raised his hand and tapped its edge, suddenly smiling.

"Two months." He said in an inappropriately excited tone. "Give me two natural months, sir. And give me some reliable warriors, and let them come to me!"

"How much do you need?"

"The more, the merrier."

Khalil nodded. "Very good. I will issue the order now. A total of 400 pioneers will be sent to your laboratory before ten o'clock tonight. Use your talents to your heart's content, Cawl."

The blue light went out, and Cawl moved his body, walking into the depths of the studio at a slow pace that was totally inconsistent with his past efficiency. His footsteps were dull and monotonous, but they aroused a response from another creature who was also in the dark like him.

"It seems that he trusts you very much."

"No," Kaul answered as he walked. "He didn't trust me, not Belisarius Kaul, not even the knowledge in my head."

"You know what? Those old fogeys on Mars don't necessarily know less than I do, and their research on these knowledge is not necessarily behind me. Besides, there are smart people everywhere these days. How difficult is it to find an armorer with some skills and brains?"

"Therefore, the reason why he gave me this task alone and gave me such great power is beyond your comprehension, Trazyn."

"Really?" The Endless One asked back in a comfortable tone.

"Yes, because you have never been trusted in such a way for such a reason. I don't know how long you have lived, but I am sure that you have never felt this way."

Kaul stopped beside his actual workbench, a silver iron table several hundred meters long, filled with all kinds of experimental products, almost covering everything.

There were prosthetic limbs that, judging by their size, should be for normal people, some kind of artificial organ kept in a petri dish and monitored by mechanical tentacles, and ordinary things like scattered nail pieces and screws flying everywhere.

Kaul walked step by step to the end of the iron platform, and there he saw Taraxin, who had not been repaired yet. He was hung up, with many complicated tubes connected to his body, like a patient being treated or a death row prisoner being reformed.

"Well, can I get a little explanation? Your words make me curious." The Endless One asked slowly.

"You can, but you already know the answer, don't you?"

Call stopped and gave him a sad smile that made Trazyn silent.

"He trusted my determination, my will, and he knew that I was on the same path as them. The most important thing was that he understood that I could give everything for humanity. Just like you, Trazyn, you can also give everything for your compatriots."

"Moreover, I think you may be the only one of your race who still has such aspirations. From this point of view, you are even more miserable than us. You are walking alone on a road that is completely dark and full of thorns, and there is no turning back."

Trazyn continued calmly, "Besides, I can't stop. I'm running wildly on this road. But to be honest, this feels really good."

The light in his eyes glowed slightly, and the living metal that made up the iron mask twisted slightly according to his will, ingeniously forming a strange smile that should not have appeared.

"What does it feel like?"

As if this question touched something, Trazyn began to laugh uncontrollably. After a long moment, he gave a word with admiration and satisfaction.

"Alive."

Without even looking up, Caul let out a laugh that mixed with the laughter of the alien that was supposed to be its mortal enemy. The laughter continued to spread in the deep darkness and finally disappeared.
-
Cato Sicarius turned around, his eyes darting around in the crowd to find out who had called him just now. He didn't know who had called him 'Brother Cato Sicarius', but it was definitely not someone he knew.

Moreover, this person should not be an Astartes. His voice was almost drowned out by the crowd, so Sicarius's current behavior could be described as looking for a needle in a haystack.

Fortunately, he got it. "Brother Cato Sicarius!"

A man was calling out his name breathlessly, and he pushed his way through the crowd with difficulty, passing through soldiers wearing different uniforms, carrying marching backpacks and carrying luggage, and finally came to him.

The man was dressed in gray, like a uniform, but with no shoulder straps or rank, so he was probably not an officer of the Munitions Department. He was wearing a pair of very old boots, holding a data tablet in his left hand and a dark briefcase in his right hand.

"you are?"

"I am a commissioner of the Administrative Council..." The man swallowed his saliva and gasped for his purpose. "I came to you under orders. Emperor, why are you here?"

"You need me for something? Why don't you use the communicator to call me?" Sicarius asked in confusion.

Such a simple question, but the man shook his head and said, "You don't know that the communication network of the assembly dock here has been paralyzed. A transport ship was secretly modified by its captain."

"Renovation? What kind of renovation can paralyze the communication network of an entire dock?"

Sicarius became increasingly surprised, thinking that he had never heard of such things in the Five Hundred Worlds - but he quickly put these things out of his mind.

"What orders?" he asked briefly, his expression becoming serious.

Today and tomorrow are both holidays for the Fourth Company, and he specifically applied for permission to go out, wanting to visit several surrounding starports where the Glory of Macragge is docked, and see which forces the mortals who will fight alongside them in the war in a few months come from.

But, since there is an order
The man took a deep breath, straightened up, and handed him the data pad in his left hand. Sicarius took it with two fingers, and after passing the identity recognition, he took a closer look and his pupils shrank immediately.

The data board showed a joint order signed by the Ministry of Military Affairs, the Ministry of Political Affairs, the Ministry of Law and his Primarch Roboute Guilliman, aiming to select some battle brothers with outstanding personal strength from the Ultramarines and send them to the Forge General Belisarius Cawl to cooperate with him in the development of a new set of power armor.
The documents also showed that there were actually only two hundred Extreme Warriors selected.

And I, Cato Sicarius, a highly recognized battle-brother in the 4th Company, am one of them.

He grinned involuntarily as he handed the dataslate back to the still-gasping officer, and then, just twenty minutes later, he was aboard a short-haul transport plane.

However, at this time, his previous excitement and happiness had completely disappeared. For no other reason, this was a transport plane belonging to the Blood Angels, which was packed with ninety-nine descendants of Sanguinius, and he was the only Ultramarines.

His blue uniform was very eye-catching among the robes of Baal. But he couldn't blame the officer who brought him on the transport plane. After all, all the Ultramarines except him had already set off.

Four hours - he thought about this silently, and his mood became subtle again - no wonder that man looked like he was about to faint from exhaustion, it turned out that he had been looking for me for four hours.
But, four hours.
He clenched his fists in silence, and then he managed to control himself. In order not to think more, he chose to observe his surroundings. He noticed that the transport plane was very quiet, and most of the Blood Angels were meditating with their eyes closed.

They looked noble and trustworthy, and their robes were very neat, in stark contrast to his slightly messy uniform - Sicarius immediately felt an indescribable annoyance.

Gritting his teeth, he cursed inwardly: Damn it! Why did I choose to apply for going out today? And what kind of psychopath would make such an illegal modification to his own boat? !

After complaining to himself, he finally calmed down a little, but his loss of composure just now had actually been completely captured by someone.

"Calmness is a virtue," he said. "What do you think, cousin?"

Following the source of the voice, Sicarius turned his head and saw an Astartes with a skin as pale as death. He had a head of withered white hair and sat upright in a slightly narrow seat, looking at him expressionlessly.

"I agree." Sicarius said in a muffled voice. "As you said, calmness is a virtue. My apologies, cousin. I am a battle-brother of the Ultramarines' Fourth Company, Cato Sicarius. May I ask who you are?"

The man shook his head. "Nice to meet you, Brother Sicarius. I am Mephisto, the Librarian Apprentice of the Blood Angels. Also, why do you need to apologize? I was the one who initiated the conversation with you. I am the one who should apologize. After all, I interrupted your thoughts."

Think Tank Apprentice? Sicarius was a little surprised. He didn't expect the Blood Angels to send a psyker to participate in the new power armor - after all, their power armor always went through special adjustments and designs.

The man seemed to notice his surprise and shook his head slightly, expressing his opinion without any anger caused by being offended, even though Sicarius's behavior was indeed very rude.

"Your idea is correct, cousin. A think tank should not be on the candidate list for such a plan. But my situation is actually quite special. Normally, I do not use psychic power to fight."

"and you.?"

"He used a sword and an axe."

One of the Blood Angels, who had been following the conversation, joined in.

He was handsome, but not delicate or exquisite, but strong and wild. However, the smile on his face when he spoke dispelled the sense of danger brought by the two, making him look kind and reliable.

"Our Mephisto is a very special Librarian apprentice. I believe you can already tell something about this from his appearance, right, Brother Sicarius?"

He asked an overwhelming question, and Sicarius was stunned for a moment, not knowing whether he should answer or not. But the man did not continue, but instead turned the topic to Sicarius' left hand.

"Prosthetic limbs?" he asked with interest. "You must have fought in many battles, cousin."

At this moment, Sicarius didn't know what his answer would bring him in the next few months. But even if he knew, he would still hold his chest high and proudly give his original answer.

"Yes!"

Aboard a transport plane filled with Blood Angels, Cato Sicarius, a battle-brother of the Ultramarines' 4th Company, spoke loudly.

"I've been through a lot of battles!"

Mephisto shook his head imperceptibly and looked away as if with pity.

(End of this chapter)