Warhammer: Rebuilding the Golden Age Starting with Farming

Chapter 112: Board Jumping Battle! (Completed by 4k6)

Horisonburg, Andy's studio.

The holographic display shows a real-time topographic map of the wasteland south of Horisonburg.

"My lord, according to the vibration data transmitted back from the front-line outposts, the enemy's main land-based warships are extremely large. I suggest that the Second Engineering Division be mobilized immediately to add three anti-tank trenches three kilometers outside the south gate, and that all spare automatic sentry guns be deployed on the front of the city wall."

Gamma-9 stood to the side, his finger hovering over several defensive nodes.

Andy shook his head, rejecting the suggestion.

"it's useless."

Andy pulled up the estimated data model of the enemy land-based ships.

"Based on the vibration frequency and track indentation depth, the enemy land-based ship's main gun caliber is at least 400 mm, and it is very likely that it has large-caliber cannons taken from starships."

"For this level of firepower, the concrete bunkers we built on the ground are basically ineffective."

"If they are allowed to deploy freely within range, the walls of Horisonburg will not last more than ten minutes."

The current advantage of deep space industry lies in the generational gap in individual soldier equipment and high mobility, rather than engaging in a positional war of attrition with steel behemoths weighing tens of thousands of tons.

Passive defense will only turn your base into a sitting duck.

"Sixth Brother." Andy entered a series of commands on the control panel: "Adjust the deployment range of the Sky Curve satellite system."

,

"Since they want to fight, let's resolve the issue before they do."

The instruction has been issued.

The two "Sky Dome-1" low-orbit base stations located at the bottom of the stratosphere immediately adjusted their attitude.

The surveillance network, which was originally evenly distributed around Horisonburg, began to extend southward in a concentrated manner.

The focal length of the optical lens rapidly increased, and the field of view penetrated the dust in the atmosphere, advancing into the depths of the wasteland.

The data stream converged on the screen, and the originally blurry gray fog gradually dissipated, revealing a clear color image.

Several massive plumes of dust are moving northward in a fan-shaped area four kilometers south of Horisonburg.

Several giant land-based ships advancing side by side.

Because of the distance, Andy couldn't initially determine the specific ownership of the ships.

The image continues to zoom in.

A few minutes later, a land-based ship on the left side of the formation suddenly increased its engine power.

The black smoke from the exhaust pipe became noticeably thicker, and the track speed increased.

It broke away from the relatively orderly marching formation and charged aggressively to the front.

The ship's paint scheme is extremely eye-catching, full of an unsettling post-apocalyptic punk style.

Andy adjusted the satellite's focus, locking onto the large, illegible generic phrase on the ship's side:

[Fuck your grandma account].

Andy stared at those words.

silent.

The studio fell into a deathly silence.

Andy straightened up, his expression frozen.

He confirmed that he wasn't mistaken; that was indeed the name of the ship.

What the heck is this?!

An indescribable anger surged up from the core of his logic!

Andy never imagined that such a low-class thing could exist in this wasteland!

Without a doubt, this is a blatant insult to the deep space industry he painstakingly built and to Horisonburg, the legacy of a golden age!

If this piece of junk with the name "Fuck Your Grandma" were to drive up to his doorstep, even if it were just to let its shells land on the walls of Horison Castle, Andy would feel that it was a stain he could never wash away for the rest of his life!

"Holy crap, this won't work!"

Andy was completely panicked: "Absolutely not!"

"I can't let this kind of spiritual pollution get near my factory!"

What to do? What to do? What to do?

Got it!

"Switch sides! Switch sides!"

Fort Horison, surface hangar.

A heavy industrial shuttle has already warmed up at the end of the runway.

This is one of the transport planes that Father Zor brought out from the Nest, and it has now been specially modified.

All the seats inside the cabin were removed, anti-slip grating was laid on the floor, and simple hydraulic handrails were installed on the side walls.

Thirty figures stood in neat rows inside the cabin.

They are the "Type 2 fighter servants" that Deep Space Industries rolled off the production line last week.

Unlike the Empire's ordinary, drool-drooling, and slow-moving mech servants, these servants had Type-— implanted within them.

IV. Biological nerve bundles.

Nerve bundles greatly increase the speed of nerve signal transmission, making their reaction capabilities far exceed those of human soldiers.

They are equipped with a backpack-like device on their backs, which is a small anti-gravity attitude balancer developed by Titan Technology through reverse engineering.

This device cannot make them fly, but it can make them walk on vertical walls and fall from hundreds of meters in the air unharmed.

The weapon configuration is classic: a standard CBS-12 high-explosive crossbow, with a sharp chainsaw sword hanging at the waist.

At the front of the machine servant formation stood ten fully armed heavy warriors.

They wore "vanguard" type assault power armor.

Kolber stood at the front, inspecting the feeding mechanism of the large-caliber explosive gun in his hand.

Two heavy quivers, filled with high-explosive crossbow bolts loaded with 3-bar explosives, hung from the outside of his thighs.

"Attention everyone, we are about to engage in a boarding operation."

Kolber's voice came through the helmet communicator.

"The boss gave a death order: the target is that land-based warship with the ugliest paint job."

"Mission objective: disable the armed forces and eliminate the crew."

"Set off."

Blue flames burst from the tail nozzle of the shuttle.

The massive aircraft took off vertically, and after reaching the predetermined altitude, it suddenly lowered its nose and sped towards the southern wilderness.

Five hundred meters above the wasteland.

The shuttle has arrived at the target airspace.

The "Fuck Your Grandma" ship below is speeding across the wasteland at 60 kilometers per hour.

The deck was crowded with people, and the crew members, wearing tattered armor, were excitedly operating anti-aircraft machine guns and rapid-fire cannons of various calibers, firing wildly into the sky.

The bullets sparked against the bottom armor of the shuttle, but failed to penetrate it.

"Arrived at the drop-off point."

The pilot's voice rang out in the cockpit.

"The hatch is open."

With a whooshing sound, the ramp at the rear of the shuttle slowly opened.

A sudden gust of wind rushed into the cabin.

Without any hesitation, Kolber took a step forward and jumped down.

Nine elite soldiers and thirty fighter servants followed closely behind.

Forty dark figures fell from the sky like dumplings.

They did not deploy their parachutes.

At this altitude and speed, parachutes would only make them easy targets for anti-aircraft fire.

They fell freely like stones and accelerated rapidly under the influence of gravity.

The deck of the land-based ship below rapidly magnified in the field of vision.

Three hundred meters above the ground.

Two hundred meters.

One hundred meters —

"Everyone, brakes!"

Kolber roared into the communications channel.

The anti-gravity attitude balancers behind the thirty machine servants were activated simultaneously.

"Buzz"

A low-frequency pulse sound rang out.

The blue anti-gravity wave instantly enveloped the machine servant's body, greatly offsetting the gravitational potential energy of the fall.

Their descent speed decreased dramatically in an instant.

At the same time, the power backpacks on the backs of the ten elite soldiers opened their nozzles.

The high-temperature, high-pressure airflow is ejected downwards, generating a huge reverse thrust.

"Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!"

A series of dull metallic clanging sounds echoed on the foredeck of the "Fuck Your Grandma".

Forty intruders landed precisely on the deck in an extremely hardcore manner.

Several unlucky crew members were even trampled into mincemeat by power armor that fell from the sky.

The alarm sounded instantly throughout the entire land-based ship.

But the crew on this ship reacted quickly.

They were thugs who had fought their way out of this wasteland; fighting was their instinct.

Almost at the same time the invaders landed.

Dozens of sailors armed with shotguns, automatic rifles and flamethrowers rushed out from behind the bunkers around the deck.

"Kill! Kill them!"

"Push them down!"

Bullets rained down on the invaders' armor.

But apart from splattering sparks and scraping off some paint, it did nothing to help.

"Crunch"

The heavy cargo doors on both sides of the deck opened slowly.

Five massive figures emerged with heavy steps; they were five heavily modified individual mechs.

This mech is a modified industrial exoskeleton welded with thick steel plates. Although it looks simple and crude, its firepower is extremely fierce.

Their left arm is a twin-mounted heavy machine gun, their right arm is a heavy flamethrower, and their backs are equipped with rocket launchers.

This is the ship's trump card, the elite force that the bald man uses to suppress rebellions and board the ship for combat.

"Heavy firepower unit!"

Kolber's eyepiece instantly locked onto the five mechs.

He raised his explosive pistol and blew the head off a sailor who was trying to charge at him from the side, then shouted into the comms: "Watch out for heavy mechs!"

Suddenly, Andy's voice came through the conversation: "Prioritize reimbursement for heavy equipment."

"Whether it's mechs, turrets, or radar, anything that looks tough, blow it up first."

The instruction has been issued.

The machine servants and elite soldiers who were originally using chainsaw swords to clear out the grunts immediately adjusted their tactics.

They ignored the sailors carrying light weapons and uniformly raised their CBS high-explosive crossbows.

"Click".

The sound of the string being wound up rang out.

The crossbow bolts, loaded with three high-energy explosives, locked onto the five single-soldier mechs that had just stepped out of the hatch.

"emission."

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The bowstring vibrates.

The crossbow bolts drew deadly black lines in the air.

The pilots of those five individual mechs hadn't even had a chance to pull the trigger.

"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!"

A series of violent explosions erupted on the deck.

The power of the three-component explosive was fully demonstrated at this moment.

The seemingly powerful but actually poorly armored assembled mech was torn to pieces the moment it made contact.

Metal parts, the driver's remains, and the exploded fuel canisters were scattered and littered with flames.

Just one volley.

All five heavy mechs were destroyed and turned into burning piles of scrap metal.

Immediately afterwards, the soldiers turned their crossbows around.

The main gun pedestal, located in the center of the deck, became the next target.

The main gun was slowly rotating, attempting to aim its massive muzzle at the intruders on the deck.

But it's too slow.

"Boom! Boom!"

Several more high-explosive crossbow bolts were fired.

It accurately hit the main gun's rotating gear mechanism and ammunition conveyor belt.

"Boom!"

A loud bang.

The main gun pedestal was blown askew, and the massive gun barrel crashed onto the deck with a violent metallic twisting sound, completely paralyzing it.

After eliminating the heavy firepower threat on the deck, the battle entered the next phase.

"Proceed!"

With a wave of his hand, Kolber led the charge toward the lock leading to the interior of the ship's cabin.

"For Deep Space Industries! For Boss Andy!"

The vanguard and machine gunners followed closely behind.

The heavy metal boots of the power armor slammed onto the deck, producing a terrifying roar.

They smashed open the deformed gate and rushed into the narrow cabin corridor.

The battles here are bloodier and more one-sided.

The crew attempted to use the familiar terrain to put up a resistance.

They set up heavy machine gun positions at the corner and also planted homemade bombs in the ventilation shafts.

But all of this is futile in the face of an absolute technological gap.

"Da da da da da!"

The heavy machine gun spat fire, and bullets struck Kolber's breastplate with a dense clanging sound.

Kohlberg didn't even bother to dodge; he simply strode forward under the firepower.

He fired the explosive gun in quick succession.

Each bomb could precisely blow a machine gunner to pieces.

When the magazine was empty, he immediately drew the chainsaw sword from his back.

"Buzz"

The saw teeth rotate.

He charged into the sandbag bunker and swung his chainsaw sword.

Whether it was the cover or the people behind it, they were all cut in half.

Behind him, the three thousand Type 2 fighter servants displayed even more bizarre tactical maneuvers.

Relying on the anti-gravity posture balancer on their backs and the nerve bundles in their bodies, they defy the constraints of gravity.

They don't walk on the ground.

Some of the servants ran directly onto the walls, while others hung upside down from the ceiling, like a group of humanoid combat spiders, moving at high speed along the four walls of the corridor, shooting down enemies below from various blind spots.

The crew had no idea where to hide. Just as they dodged a bullet from the front, a crossbow bolt came flying down from above.

The defenses crumbled layer by layer.

From the foredeck to the cargo hold, from the cargo hold to the engine room, and then to the living quarters on the upper deck.

Deep Space Industries' combat forces swept through the enemy lines, and nothing could stop their advance.

Wherever they went, they left behind only shell casings, corpses, and destroyed facilities.

"Fuck your grandma!" - Bridge command room.

This location is at the highest point of the land-based ship, offering the best view.

But at this moment, the place was filled with an atmosphere of despair.

The captain, the once arrogant bald man, was now slumped in a gold-plated command chair, staring at a row of monitor screens in front of him.

The images on the screen chilled him to the bone.

His prized single-soldier mech was blown to smithereens before it even fired.

His battle-hardened boatswains were as vulnerable as infants in the face of those black monsters, and even the main gun he had spent a fortune modifying had become scrap metal.

"How could this happen—how could this happen!"

"Why are they even bringing in a boarding party?!"

The bald man muttered to himself, not even noticing that a cigarette butt had fallen onto his pants and burned a hole in them.

"Who are they? Aliens?! When did such an army appear on Zais?!"

In the scene, the lead power armor warrior has already rushed to the last line of defense outside the bridge.

He kicked open the heavy blast door, his chainsaw still dripping blood.

Behind him, the machine servants hanging upside down from the ceiling were staring intently at the camera with emotionless electronic eyes.

The bald man was devastated.

He was a thug, a madman, but he didn't want to die.

All his arrogance and cruelty are based on the premise that he is stronger than others.

His psychological defenses crumble instantly when he encounters someone more ruthless, stronger, or more unreasonable than himself.

"I'm not playing anymore! I'm not playing anymore!"

The bald man suddenly jumped up and smashed the glass cover on the control panel.

They don't even care if their hands are cut by glass.

He pressed the red ship-wide broadcast button hard.

"Abandon ship! Everyone abandon ship!!"

The bald man's voice, filled with fear and crackling, echoed throughout the ship via the loudspeaker.

"Stop fighting! Stop fighting! Run!"

After saying that, he turned and rushed towards the emergency escape route behind the command room, where a small escape airship that had been prepared in advance was located.

With the captain's order to flee, the ship's last will to resist crumbled instantly.

The crew members, who had been putting up a last-ditch resistance, threw down their weapons and rushed toward the escape pods and the edge of the deck.

Some people didn't even have time to put on protective gear before jumping off the deck, which was dozens of meters high, and crashing onto the sandy wasteland.

As long as I can stay away from those black-clad grim reapers, I don't care if I break my leg.

Five minutes later.

Kolber led his men into the empty bridge.

"They run pretty fast."

Kolber turned on his communicator and reported to Andy, "Boss, the target has been eliminated."

"The enemy has abandoned ship, and control has been seized."