Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 975, page 08.974: "Give me 5000!"

[In this way, I will be preparing for both a ground campaign and a void campaign simultaneously...]
A day later, Horatio walked along the cold metal corridors of the Swift Eagle, lost in thought.

The low hum of the circulating air inside the warship was the constant background noise during his thoughts.

He stopped and looked out through a heavy armored porthole.

On that boundless, star-studded black curtain, the charter merchant ships of the 0371 fleet, like docile giants, slowly sailed into the massive circular structure of Minerva Starport.

They clumsily adjusted their posture, came to a stop on the docking platform, and then began to pour massive amounts of supplies into the sand-covered land.

"Xiao Yao, next you will select people to form a special team to be responsible for calculating the funds and equipment needed to build the new army."

Our initial group consisted of approximately..."

As Horatio walked, he explained the task to the accountant Yin Shuyao beside him.

Suddenly, his words stopped abruptly, his gaze fixed on the wheeled armored vehicles being transferred below the starport. Their familiar silhouettes gave him a sense of déjà vu.

[Isn't that the "Arion" eight-wheeled heavy assault vehicle used by the Britannia Regiment during the Farstar Expedition?]
An idea popped into his mind, making him happy.

The vehicles for the medium-armored mobile force have been secured!

"Come with me to Star Harbor."

As the heavy doors of the Star Harbor Book Office groaned and slid open to the sides, a typical picture of imperial bureaucracy unfolded before one's eyes.

A captain of the Sintira flintlock regiment, dressed in a magnificent uniform, sat with his legs crossed, watching with great satisfaction as massive amounts of cargo were unloaded onto this planet with astonishing reserves.

The array of Thinkers before him kept updating the quantity and names of the supplies, and each fluctuating number seemed to deepen the smile on his lips.

He only stood up lazily when he saw a man in a magnificent military uniform—even just looking at the heavy epaulets adorned with gold tassels, one could tell he was a high-ranking naval officer—walking towards him with a tall, beautiful secretary with cascading black hair.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. May I ask what brings you here?"

“I’d like to purchase some wheeled armored vehicles,” Horatio said with a smile, gesturing with his chin to the brand-new Arion tanks stacked on the outer deck, “just this eight-wheeled tank that’s being transported.”

The quote should be transferred through a company bank account. After printing the invoice and affixing the sacred seal of the Sintira Military Ministry, simply hand it to my accountant.

"Well... sir, in principle, our flintlock rifle regiment's assets are never sold to outsiders."

"That's just in principle. Our money will be in place; this is a small fee for your services."

Horatio smiled and turned his head to nod at Yin Shuyao.

Miss Accountant understood and handed over an Ecu cheque bearing the emblem of the Calissis Sector Bank.

It was the universal hard currency used throughout the entire Calicus-Coronus expansion, and was widely used for transactions by both ordinary citizens of Sintira and high-ranking merchants and wandering warriors.

“Well, as the saying goes, there are always exceptions to every principle. Providing the Holy Empire Navy with special treatment does not violate any principles.” The Sintira officer nodded meaningfully and accepted the check without making a sound.

"Well then, I'll go and ask our superiors for you. I'm confident that since it's a request from a high-ranking naval officer, this matter can definitely be handled well. Please wait a moment."

The captain turned and walked inside, stopping in front of a large mahogany double door and knocking lightly.

"Major, Major. A captain wants to see you about purchasing military equipment."

"What???" A deep, gruff shout came from inside through the heavy door. "A mere Captain of the Astronautical Army wants to buy military equipment from us? Are you one of those sans-culottes from the military reform faction? Tell him to get lost! We're not selling! Let them go beg for food from the Astronautical Army's logistics department!"

"No, sir, he is a 'Captain'!"

“I know it’s a Captain! Just like you!”

"You've got it wrong!" Captain Cintira outside the door exclaimed anxiously, her voice trembling. "He's a naval captain!!! The captain of the Calithis fleet!"

"..." This comical and absurd scene made Horatio completely lose his patience.

He abandoned his plan to have the fool continue reporting, and strode straight to the door, pushing both doors open inwards.

A loud bang.

The man sitting at the ornate wooden table held a lit cigar in one hand and a newspaper from the capital city of Sintira in the other.

He was preparing to enjoy a leisurely afternoon in front of the huge, flower-patterned French windows.

It wasn't until this uninvited naval officer stood before him like a mountain that he finally understood which "Captain" his subordinates were referring to.

The major froze, and the cigar in his hand fell onto the table with a "thud," slowly releasing wisps of smoke.

"I want to buy the 'Arion' wheeled armored vehicles that I escorted and transported."

"Sir, please tell me how much you want?" The major in front of him said with an awkward smile. "It was just an accident. As you know, very few important figures in the Navy come here. We basically deal with our colleagues in the Star Force every day."

“I think, about two thousand,” Horatio said bluntly, not bothering with his ridiculous explanation.

"So many?!" The major was startled, nearly dropping the cigar he had just picked up from the table again. "That's right. We need this many to build an orbital landing force. If I remember correctly, the escort list I had included about five thousand of these vehicles, all fresh off the production lines of Britannia in the industrial world."

"Such a large quantity, I... I must ask my superiors for permission."

“No need. It’s a procurement by the Calesis Fleet, and it’s done through official accounts.” Horatio stood in front of him, tapping the table with his fingers, his voice icy. “The military equipment you’ve stockpiled is dozens of times more than that of other Star Forces, ranging from armored tanks to super-heavy tanks.”

"Selling just two thousand small wheeled armored vehicles, does it really need to alarm the bigwigs? Do you have to report to your general even if you step on an ant?"

“In the past, it was indeed unnecessary, sir. But now, as you know, a so-called ‘military reform faction’ has emerged in Sintira.”

My predecessor in this position was recently found to be selling military equipment to those damn sans-culottes, and he's been dismissed. I need to start planning for my own political future.

“I assure you, if you don’t sell today, your family will never have any political future in the Calithis fleet. Choose one.”

[Willpower 4...]
In that instant of face-to-face conversation, Horatio used the analyzer built into his prosthetic steel arm to discern the will of the person before him. Only four points, far below his own willpower level.

"Mind Pressure: Consumes 1 point of Energy, 1 point of Psionic Energy, and 2 points of Corruption. It can compel those with a lower Willpower than you to submit to your will."

Energy: 11 → 10 / 11

'Psionic Power: 9→8/9'

Corruption: 0 → 2/9

A faint, almost imperceptible purple light flashed deep within his azure eyes.

As Major Cintira gazed at the three morning stars on Horatio's gold epaulettes, signifying his rank as High Lord Colonel, and the ornate gold trim around the edges, his Adam's apple bobbed.

"I...I understand!" After hesitating for a moment, he nodded obediently.

Just as he was about to perform accounting and transfer on the data terminal, an encrypted communication call suddenly came in.

"Excuse me, sir, I need to take this call. Please wait a moment."

"Go ahead," Horatio said, gesturing with his chin.

"Hello, it's me, yes," the major said, holding the landline receiver. Suddenly, he frowned: "Hmm?"

Immediately afterward, he straightened his back and said in a booming voice into the microphone, "Understood, General! I will do my duty and will not let those sans-culottes succeed!"

He hung up the call and, as if a different person, mustered the courage to face the naval officer who was taller and stronger than him. But under Horatio's cold gaze, his newly mustered courage faltered and weakened.

Even so, he practically shouted, “Sir! Command has just issued an order that these military equipment are likely to fall into the hands of the ‘Sanssocks’! Therefore, we must strictly control the flow of these vehicles and not sell them to the Calissis Fleet! Moreover… and sir, you do not appear to be a naval officer of the Calissis Fleet. According to regulations, we now need to verify your identity!”

"Investigate me? Ha." Horatio sneered and stepped forward, his cold eyes fixed on the short man in front of him.

"Miss Accountant, have the Chief Astrologer transmit an Astrologian communication to the nearest Astrologian relay station! Beacon code: BR3940143!"

With that, Horatio's steel prosthetic arm extended several slender tree branches, which connected directly to the large Thinker array in the office.

"Captain, the interstellar communication is working smoothly, relayed by the Minerva Interstellar Court." Chief Interstellar Speaker Melon's voice rang directly in his mind.

Soon, a man dressed in a scarlet general's uniform appeared on the holographic projection screen in the office.

"Greetings, Mr. Cochrane."

The man with a red tactical prosthetic eye on his left eye stood up straight with pride and solemnity, his iron fingers gently stroking the golden sash on his chest that represented supreme honor: "I am Wellington, Prime Minister of Britannia, Lieutenant General of the British Imperial Guard, and Imperial Duke conferred by the Ministry of the Interior."

"I heard you've run into a little trouble, my friend. Please tell me, how can I help you?"

"I need five thousand Arion eight-wheeled armored vehicles to form the Imperial Navy's rail landing force. We have that many now, but the other side doesn't seem to agree."

"Whose order?"

"Sintila".

"..." There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line: "Hmm, that's right. The trade department's data shows that this batch of vehicles delivered to the Xuanwei line does indeed consist of five thousand. Do you need that many?"

Yes. I need that much.

“Then it’s yours, my friend,” the Duke of Wellington readily agreed.

"no problem?"

"No problem, absolutely no problem! The Sintila people only paid a deposit. According to the terms, they have been paying 70% of the supplies and profits in the middle of the process, which is already a long time ago. They breached the contract first, and they already owe 20% in interest alone."

I know the Imperial Navy is wealthy and won't extend credit for too long, right? Britain needs a constant influx of resources.

"No problem. I will have my accountant and your specialists draft a new large-scale trade contract later to export from Goths and Calicus to pay for these five thousand wheeled chariots."

(End of this chapter)