From Titan Corporation to the Empire of Man

Chapter 598 "Are These Really Teenagers?"

Lyon's military boots stepped on the metal gangway of the Ruizhou, making a dull echo.

The scorching air of Tatooine immediately hit him in the face, with the slight sound of sand rubbing against armor. He squinted his eyes and glanced at the Spartan warriors lined up in neat rows in front of him.

These super soldiers, with an average height of over two meters, stood on the tarmac. The heat waves of the desert formed distorted halos on the surface of their power armor.

The ceramic composite layer of the Thor's Hammer Power Armor also glowed matte under the double sun, and the hydraulic devices at the joints trembled slightly with the rhythm of breathing.

Leon noticed that several soldiers in the team adjusted their stance unconsciously, and the armor servo system made a slight "hissing" sound, which was exactly the "nervous" expression that only young people would have.

"Your Majesty, the Emperor."

David followed three steps behind Leon, nudged Lucy with his elbow, and lowered his voice very low: “Are these really teenagers?”

His eyes swept over the broad shoulder armor of the Spartans, "I see a few of them are stronger than the recruits of the Imperial Fists."

Lucy's electronic prosthetic eye flickered with a faint blue light, and the data stream on her iris showed that she was recording the parameters of the Spartans.

She didn't answer David, but the corners of her mouth twitched slightly, which was a tiny expression of her approval.

Leon walked straight towards the "wounded" figure at the front of the queue.

John 117's armor had clearly seen some heavy fighting.

The left shoulder armor had been melted into spider-web-like cracks by some kind of energy weapon, and the chest armor was covered with bullet holes. The most shocking thing was that there were three parallel claw marks on the helmet visor, which seemed to be the marks left by a chaos demon.

Even if the troops stranded on Tatooine received support, the current situation showed that the Spartans did not have much free time to allow the engineering department to repair their armor.

"Master Chief." Leon nodded and took out a mobile terminal with one hand to operate it. A holographic projection immediately unfolded between the two of them.

On the long list of data streams, the number of each Spartan was flashing. "Dr. Halsey should have informed you of the nature of this mission."

A steady voice came from John's helmet speaker: "Yes, sir, all Spartans are on standby."

Leon's right hand fingers slid quickly across the holographic list.

In fact, he had already made his choice.

The three-member Red Team showed amazing tacit understanding in tactical simulations and recent actual combat.

Douglas 042's close combat score reached 98.7%, Jerome 092's tactical command ability was comparable to that of an officer who had served for ten years, and Alice 130, in a recent actual combat, dismantled three corrupted AT-ST walkers with her bare hands.

The list continued to scroll down to Sparta 141, and next to Kohl's portrait, there were several records marked.

The hit rate of sniping at an ultra-long range of 4800 meters is 99.3%, the longest duration of the lurking mission is 240 hours, and the camouflage and reconnaissance assessment has excellent results, etc.

Cole's archival photo shows that she has a rare pair of amber eyes, which is a side effect of some genetic adjustments.

Finally, his fingertips rested on a number that was beating particularly vigorously, Myron 1337.

The young man in the archival video is walking upside down while shooting at a moving target, scoring all ten rings.

In the remarks column, there is a handwritten note from Dr. Halsey: "Overactive, but battlefield instincts are S-rank."

Then, Lyon began to call the roll.

When the number "1337. Mellon" came out of his mouth, the entire Spartan team seemed to be injected with electricity.

"Alas!!"

An "armored giant" who was half a head taller than the other warriors suddenly leaped up, and his magnetic boots created a few tiny sparks on the metal ground.

"Ha! I knew it!" Myron's helmet speaker amplified the sound several times, echoing over the tarmac.

The Spartan turned around and slapped his comrade's shoulder hard. The power armors collided with each other with a dull metallic sound. "Jason! Did you see that? The legendary agent personally called my name!"

The Sparta who was slapped staggered half a step, and the expression under the mask must have been quite helpless.

John shook his head slightly. As Myron's superior and supervisor "brother" for many years, John was already accustomed to the abnormal behavior of this "problem child".

As Leon watched this scene, he couldn't help but think of himself when he first joined the Investigation Department.

At that time, he was just like these young people, looking forward to every mission in the future. The difference was that he never showed his excitement like Myron.

"I need them to deliver their personal equipment and weapons to the equipment depot in Area B of the Ruizhou within half an hour." Leon turned to John, and his voice regained the calmness that was unique to special agents. "Including but not limited to standard weapons, special modules and Thor's Hammer armor,"

"Yes, sir."

John nodded in agreement, then shouted, "Douglas, Jerome, Alice, Cole, Myron, step out!"

The five Spartans took a step forward at the same time. The sound of their magnetic boots hitting the metal ground was like a war drum. Even the most restless Mellen instantly entered the mission state.

Leon's eyes swept over the five Spartan warriors, and with a light swipe of his right hand on the mobile terminal, the holographic projection immediately displayed the mission briefing.

"You will be carrying out a variety of comprehensive tasks such as infiltration and reconnaissance, stealth protection, etc., to assist our investigation department in completing its work better." His voice suddenly became low, "This means that during most of the mission time-"

He paused deliberately, letting the silence spread across the tarmac.

In the distance, the roar of a transport boat's engine could be heard faintly, further highlighting the solemnity of the moment.

"You must take off this iconic Mjolnir armor."

092 Jerome leaned forward slightly, which was a Spartan gesture of concentration, and on behalf of the five people, he said to Leon respectfully:

"Understood, sir."

"Very good." Leon dissipated the holographic screen, put away the mobile terminal, and added:
"In half an hour, gather at the equipment depot in Area B of Ruizhou. Those who arrive late will be responsible for equipment maintenance during the entire mission."

"Yes!"

The five Spartans responded in unison again.

Lyon, David and Lucy turned around and walked towards the Ruizhou behind them.

And just as Leon entered the cabin, Myron's voice, which he could not suppress, penetrated the hot wind of the desert -

"Hey! Do you think we will encounter other Sith Warriors? Or Master Yoda mentioned by the Intelligence Department?"

John's voice immediately rang out: "1337! Go pack up your equipment immediately."

In the deck corridor of the Ruizhou, David rubbed his eyes irritated by the dust while walking, tilted his head towards Lucy, and said jokingly:
"Honestly, do you think that clown number 1337 can maintain his disguise beyond the minimum mission time limit?"

Lucy's electronic prosthetic eyes flashed blue, and her fingertips tapped the panel in front of her that only she could see.

An assessment report was immediately uploaded to David's electronic eye, and she said in a calm tone as if she was discussing the weather:

"The data shows that 1337 Myron's mission completion rate in actual combat is 302% higher than in training." "Ha! So he is the type..." David's chuckle echoed between the metal walls, and he made a gesture of pulling the trigger, "the type who is calmer with a gun pointed at his forehead?"

Lucy didn't answer immediately.

She looked through the porthole at Myron on the tarmac. The tall Spartan was jumping towards the equipment room, not looking like he was wearing a half-ton power armor.

In the end, she just shrugged slightly, but this action was enough to explain the problem.

And no matter which unit you are in, actions always speak louder than words. Since their commander Leon has taken a fancy to Mellon, Mellon must have stronger talents than other Spartans.

the other side;
The light from the twin suns of Tatooine cast changing shadows on the canyon walls. The engine nozzles of the exclusive Thunderhawk gunships slowly shut down, and the scorching air waves rolled up gusts of dust on the tarmac.

The black-painted aircraft completed its landing almost simultaneously with the Ruizhou. The hatch on the nose of the aircraft slowly lowered with the "hiss" of the hydraulic system, forming a metal slope that ran diagonally across the ground.

Dorn's figure appeared at the hatch.

He was not wearing a helmet, his short white hair fluttered slightly in the hot desert wind, and his resolute face showed a hint of fatigue from traveling.

The sun streamed down the shoulder guards of the exclusive armor, making the Imperial Fists emblem shine brightly.

Twelve Templar Knights followed closely behind, the heavy footsteps of the Terminators beating like war drums.

On the tarmac, Sigismund and more than a dozen Imperial Fists veterans were already lined up waiting.

Seeing the Primarch appear, these battle-hardened warriors raised their right arms at the same time, and their armors collided with each other making neat clanging sounds.

"Father." Sigismund's voice came through the helmet speaker, and his eyes under the mask were burning like torches.

Dorn raised his hand to signal them to lower their arms, and walked down the slope with steady steps.

"No need to be polite." His voice was like a rock deep in the desert. "Once the remnants of Chaos on Tatooine are completely eradicated, your troops will be given priority to obtain new weapons and Mark IX Titanium Armor."

As he spoke, Dorn's gaze passed over Sigismund's shoulder and fell on two figures at the other end of the tarmac.

Athena took off her dazzling golden armor and wore a simple white linen dress that fluttered in the hot wind. She looked like an "ordinary" woman.

If you ignore the faint divine aura around her.

Hera, who was standing next to her, had a completely different temperament. She was wearing a dark red silk cheongsam embroidered with golden runes, and was holding a baby wrapped in a silver-gray swaddling cloth.

Dorn's pupils contracted slightly.

Even though the Primarch was dozens of meters away, his extraordinary vision could still clearly see the baby.

His younger brother Ferrus was holding a strand of Hera's hair in his little hand, and was looking at his "strange" brother with curiosity in his eyes.

"Father." Sigismund noticed the Primarch's distraction and reminded him softly, "Goddess Hera said that the new Primarch can be handed over to a dedicated medical team at any time."

Dorn withdrew his gaze and nodded imperceptibly.

He noticed that the runes on Hera's cheongsam were flowing slowly, some kind of ancient protective spell.

Athena maintained just the right distance, neither too close nor too distant. The goddess of war seemed to know how to get along with the Primarch well.

However, even Dorn, who was not good at using psychic powers, could sense that Athena was full of "maternal love" for his younger brother.

"Let's go."

Dorn gave a brief order, and at the same time, the captain of the Templars made a gesture to disperse and be alert.

The Primarch stepped towards the two Greek gods, and Sigismund and the Imperial Fists veterans immediately followed.

Hera looked at Dorne who was approaching, and a meaningful smile appeared on her red lips. Ferrus in her arms suddenly made a babbling sound and grabbed in Dorne's direction with his little hands.

This action softened the Primarch's hard and cold expression.

"He recognizes you." Hera's voice was like the friction of silk, with a faint echo, "The call of blood is always the most primitive connection."

Athena took a half step forward at the right time, her white skirt sweeping across the sand, and smiled as she said, "This child is in good health, after all, he is breastfed by the Queen."

Dorn's eyes briefly moved between the two goddesses, finally landing on the baby.

He extended his adamantium-wrapped index finger, and Ferrus immediately grasped it with his small hand. The weak force made the Primarch of the Imperial Fists breathe lighter.

"I'll take good care of him for you." Dorn finally said, with a rare hint of warmth in his voice. "The sandstorms in this system are not friendly to newborns."

As he spoke, Dorn had already taken the swaddling clothes from Hera and turned to walk towards the exclusive Thunderhawk gunship at the rear.

The Imperial Fists warriors on the tarmac also relaxed their tense nerves to a certain extent.

Many of them had seen the newborn Primarch for the first time not long ago, and the expressions beneath their masks were a mixture of awe and anticipation.

The hatch of the Thunderhawk gunship slowly closed, and Dorn, holding the baby in his arms, was gradually swallowed up by the mechanical structure.

Hera's cheongsam fluttered violently in the airflow created by the engine, like a burning flame. Her slender fingers unconsciously clenched and unclenched, leaving several crescent-shaped red marks on her palms. This was an unprecedented loss of composure for the Greek god in thousands of years.

Athena stood beside him, her white dress still spotless.

The goddess' gem-like eyes reflected the taking-off Thunder Eagle, and deep in her pupils flashed a melancholy that she herself was not aware of.

"The child will receive the best care." Athena's voice was so soft that it was almost drowned out by the roar of the engine.

Hera's lips pulled into a broken smile.

She thought of Ares's last appearance——

That proud and arrogant son stood between her and the pursuers with his arms outstretched. The armor of the god of war was corroded by chaos and was riddled with holes. He eventually disappeared forever.

"Every mother thinks so." Hera stroked the remaining hair on the cheongsam with her fingertips, "until fate proves that this is just a luxury."

The gunship's tail flames drew a blazing trail in the sky of Tatooine.

Athena suddenly pressed her chest, where she felt a strange pain. She was surprised to find that she was imagining an absurd scene.

One of the Primarchs was the child she and the Emperor of Mankind, Sui Yang, "bred" together.
This thought made her divinity tremble, and her white skirt moved without wind.

Hera noticed the strangeness of her companion and suddenly chuckled: "Be careful, goddess of wisdom."

As she spoke, Hera lightly touched Athena's heart with her fingertips, "Once there is a 'crack' here, it will be difficult to restore it."

While the two goddesses were sighing, Jerome, Douglas, Alice, Cole and Myron had packed up their equipment and entered the Ruizhou.

Then, the transport ship, which was less than 100 meters long, left the landing pad and flew out of Tatooine's atmosphere.
(End of this chapter)