Warhammer: Empire Reboot

At present, the distance between Obrolus III and Obrolus II (the agricultural world) is approximately 1.8 million kilometers. In stellar gravitational models, the two planets are in a near-prograde window of their orbital period, meaning the straight-line distance from III to II will continue to shorten over the next 30 days, reaching a closest point of approximately 1.4 million kilometers (in 20 days), before widening again.

At the standard cruising speed of a Law Enforcer-class patrol ship, it would take approximately 1.67 hours to traverse 1.8 million kilometers. However, this is under ideal conditions. Actual travel requires acceleration, deceleration, and course corrections. In addition, the patrol ship's engine performance is far from its theoretical limit, so a normal interstellar journey would take approximately 3 to 5 days.

The problem is this: normal flight means the engines are running the entire time. Engines running mean enormous amounts of heat radiation and electromagnetic signals. In space, a spaceship with plasma engines is like a torch in the dark; any planet with basic oracles can see it from hundreds of millions of kilometers away.

The host planet's oracles are certainly monitoring the entire galaxy. If the six patrol ships set sail as planned, the host planet will know within hours. Krauser will have ample time to deploy interception forces in the agricultural worlds, or even send host planetary warships to ambush them en route.

Setting off directly would be tantamount to suicide.

As Lawson gazed at the star map, his brain, aided by swarm intelligence, was operating at an extremely high speed.

A method is needed to allow the spaceship to reach the agricultural world undetected.

But there is no such thing as stealth in space. As long as the engine is running, you are a mobile beacon.

Unless, of course, the engine stops working.

Lawson's gaze lingered on the star map for a long time.

Two hours later.

Grand Marshal Antonio Thorne of the Ministry of Justice stood in front of the holographic star map.

Over the past three days of purges, he cooperated with Lawson's operations with astonishing efficiency; arrest warrants, interrogation warrants, execution orders—every document was executed within a minute of his signature. Not because of loyalty, but because he was acutely aware of the consequences of non-cooperation.

But what Lawson told him at that moment put his willingness to cooperate to a severe test.

"Grand Marshal, I need your six armed patrol ships."

Thorne's eyebrows twitched: "All six?"

"All."

"use?"

"Transport troops." Lawson switched to the holographic projection.

When the star map of the Triad is magnified, a dashed line appears in the image, running from Obulus-III to Obulus-II.

"Destination: The agricultural world."

Thorne's eyebrow twitched again. During the purge, he had been informed by Lawson of the complete strategic landscape of the Tri-Star System: the food crisis, the threat to the main star, and the occupation of the agricultural world. He knew that seizing the agricultural world was the only way out.

but……

"My lord, the agricultural world is currently under the control of the main planet's rebels. Even though the agricultural world's defenses are far inferior to those of the main planet, they must have deployed an orbital surveillance network. The six patrol ships have no void shields and no heavy weapons. If they are discovered, they cannot even withstand a salvo of orbital cannon fire."

"It won't be discovered."

Thorne was taken aback.

Lawson walked up to the holographic star map and drew an arc on the projection with his finger.

"The plan is as follows. Six patrol ships will assemble in high orbit around our planet. The planet itself will be used as a visual obscuring agent. From the perspective of the host planet's oracles, the ships will be obscured by the physical volume of the planet and cannot be directly observed."

He drew a circle at the starting point of the arc.

"On the far side of the planet, all six ships simultaneously activated their plasma main engines, not at standard thrust, but at overload. The engine power was adjusted to 280% to 320% of its rated value. This thrust level will increase the ship's speed from zero to 4.2 times the standard cruise speed, or about 42% of the speed of light, within 47 hours."

Thorne's face turned from pale to iron gray.

“大人……280%过载……那是自杀式推进。引擎在额定150%以上运行超过6小时就会开始不可逆损坏。320%……等离子反应堆会在12小时内过热。”

“I know,” Lawson said, his tone flat. “The engines don’t need to keep running. After 47 hours of overload jetting, the ship has gained sufficient initial velocity. Then…”

He drew an X in the middle of the arc.

"Shut down everything. The plasma engines shut down. The auxiliary power system shut down. The life support system shut down. The communication system shut down. The navigation lights shut down. The interior lighting shut down. The heating system shut down. Even the attitude control thrusters shut down. Every electronic device, every energy source, every system that generates heat radiation or electromagnetic signals on the entire spaceship is reduced to zero."

Thorne opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Lawson continued, "In the detection logic of the Ornithometer, an object that does not emit any radiation, does not reflect any active scans, and has a volume of only tens of thousands of tons is no different from an ordinary space rock. Even if the Ornithometer on the host planet accidentally scans something, it will only be classified as an uncataloged asteroid or orbital debris and ignored."

"With an inertial gliding speed of 42% of the speed of light, the spacecraft will travel 1.8 million kilometers in 5 to 7 days to reach the outer edge of the agricultural world's orbit."

Thorne finally regained his voice.

"Sir... 47 hours of 320% overload acceleration... the resulting overload G-force..."

He did a quick mental calculation.

"Peak acceleration exceeded 12 standard Gs. Lasted for 47 hours."

This means that a normal person would feel that their weight has increased to 12 times their normal weight within these 47 hours.

Blood will be squeezed out of the brain by centrifugal force, internal organs will be compressed and deformed, and bones will be subjected to stress far exceeding design limits.

The maximum survival time for an average human under continuous acceleration of 12G is approximately 3 to 5 minutes.

“The entire crew,” Thorne muttered almost to himself, “will all die within minutes of acceleration beginning.”

“Yes,” Lawson said.

Thorne unconsciously clenched the scepter at his waist.

"You will have to trade the entire crew of six patrol ships, approximately 2400 people, for a covert intergalactic deployment."

“Not all six.” Lawson held up one finger. “One. I only need one to reach the agricultural world. But for redundancy, all six will depart simultaneously, spreading out their routes to ensure at least one arrives safely.”

Thorne's pupils contracted.

"400 people, 400 people on one ship."

"380 of them are your legal department crew members. The other 20 are my people."

"The 380 crew members had only one mission: to operate the spacecraft during the acceleration phase. After 47 hours, their mission was complete."

"Then they will die."

A bead of sweat was slowly rolling down Thorne's forehead.

He is the Grand Marshal of the Ministry of Justice. This position was not obtained out of mercy; in his twenty-year tenure, he has signed thousands of execution orders, personally ordered the suppression of the Underground riots, and tacitly approved the disappearance of gang leaders. He is not a soft-hearted man.

But 2400 people—no, even if we only count 400 people on one ship—did not die in battle, but were killed by their own engines on their own ships.

His fingers loosened their grip on the scepter of judgment.

“Sir.” He opened his eyes. “I need a reason. Not for myself, but for those 400 crew members. They have the right to know why they died.”

Lawson looked at him: “Tell them: There are 118 billion people on the planet. There is only enough food for four months. After four months, if no one goes to reclaim the food from the agricultural world, most of these 118 billion people will starve to death.”

"These 400 lives were exchanged for the lives of 118 billion people."

"That's the reason."

Thorne didn't say anything more; he raised his hand and gave a standard military salute befitting the Ministry of Justice.

“I will select volunteers. Give me 48 hours.”

“You have 24 hours,” Lawson said. “Then arrange for a captain to come see me. I want to personally explain the operational details of the acceleration phase and the final attitude lock.”

Thorne turned and left.

He paused when he reached the door.

"grown ups."

"what?"

"Your men, those 20 soldiers, can they survive 47 hours under 12G?"

Lawson did not answer the question.

The answer is obvious: the assassins in the White Tiger Armor are super soldiers whose bodies have been systematically modified and enhanced with living metal, capable of maintaining combat effectiveness under overloads exceeding 30G. 12G is not even a concern for them, requiring no special countermeasures.

They will not die.

They would be soberly flying for five to seven days amidst 2400 corpses in a silent, cold spaceship.

Thorne did not turn around.

He strode away from the command center.

After Thorne left, Lawson began working on the next step of the plan: the login method.

After approaching the agricultural world at 42% of the speed of light, the spaceship was unable to decelerate and enter orbit like a normal spaceship.

Because slowing down requires an engine, and an engine means exposure.

This means that the spacecraft cannot land on an agricultural world; it can only release landing units during high-speed flybys.

Swarm optimization offers a solution:

As the spacecraft flew past the agricultural world, it passed in an arc approximately 8000 to 12000 kilometers from the target planet. During the passage, the spacecraft briefly activated its attitude control thrusters—small thrusters whose signals were so weak that they were almost impossible for the planet's oracles to detect against the backdrop of atmospheric interference—to rotate the hull to a specific angle. Then, the cargo hatch was opened.

Twenty White Tiger Armor assassins were released from the cargo hold.

But they weren't released in assault boats or landing craft. They didn't have those. The six patrol vessels were Department of Justice law enforcement ships, not Marine Corps assault ships.

Their landing capsule was themselves.

Before release, the remaining cargo of the spaceship, mainly metal components and industrial raw materials, was manually reassembled by the White Tiger Armor assassins on board into 20 rough but sturdy landing cocoons.

Each cocoon is essentially a welded metal box filled with shock-absorbing material, large enough to accommodate only one White Tiger Armor soldier curled up inside.

The outer layer of the cocoon is coated with a layer of living metal temporarily peeled off from the armor of the White Tiger Armor soldiers, serving as an ablation insulation layer during reentry into the atmosphere.

After being released, the 20 landing cocoons, at a relative speed of about 3 to 5% of the speed of light after being decelerated by gravity, were still extremely fast, but far below the cruising speed, and entered the atmosphere of the agricultural world.

From the planet's surface, 20 meteors suddenly appeared in the sky.

This wouldn't be unusual on any planet.

Micro-meteorites and space debris enter planetary atmospheres every day. Twenty meteorites wouldn't even warrant a second glance from a weather station.

But these meteorites will not burn up completely.

The living metal ablation layer of the landing cocoon melts away layer by layer in the extreme temperatures of passing through the atmosphere, but it is not completely depleted.

The self-healing properties of living metal ensure that the cocoon retains its structural integrity even after passing through the highest temperature layer.

Upon entering the lower atmosphere, air resistance increases dramatically, causing the cocoon to decelerate to a survival-level impact velocity.

Then they crashed into the plains of the agricultural world.

A standard "land cocoon" impacting soft farmland at a speed of about 300 meters per second will create a crater about 8 meters in diameter and 3 meters deep on the ground.

At the bottom of the pit was a deformed but intact metal box.