Warhammer: Empire Reboot

"Geller force field?"

"It's still there. The core of the original Imperial Geller force field generator hasn't been touched. The wax seal on it hasn't been broken. The Great Tech Master probably opened it, took a look, didn't understand what it was, and then closed it again."

"Navigation system?"

"The Empire's navigation system was completely dismantled. The screens, instruments, and control panel were all smashed. The orcs installed a huge iron wheel in the cockpit as a steering wheel, with a string of bones hanging next to it."

"Life support system?"

"The core module is there, but it's been bound together with wire and tape. The circulating fan has been replaced with a large fan welded from sheet metal, with red stripes painted on the blades. The air purification device and the small wrench are missing. They've probably been disassembled and used for something else."

Lawson closed his eyes in the base and fed this information into the swarm's mind.

Three seconds later, the conclusion was reached.

Lawson cursed inwardly.

[Swarm Strategies: Warship Usability Assessment]

[Key Assessment: Under its current condition, humans are unable to pilot this ship.]

[Analysis: The plasma engine, subspace engine, and navigation system have all been replaced with Waaagh energy-powered versions. These systems can only operate under the Greenskins' "I think it works" logic, which is ultimately driven by the Waaagh energy field.]

[The only driving option: Restore the Waaagh energy drive chain. This requires a sufficient number of green-skinned organisms to generate a continuous Waaagh energy field within the ship.]

[Minimum requirement estimate: approximately 2000 Orc Boys, or 3000 Farlings.]

Forget about the orc boys; they'd rather die than surrender.

There's a way to deal with three thousand fart demons.

Quantity is not a problem.

The question is, what can these three thousand bastards do once they're on the frigate?

The analysis of swarm intelligence continues.

The farts were stuffed into the engine compartment and power pipes, relying on the dense Waaagh energy field generated by their swarming to keep the plasma engine running. They didn't need to understand any technology; they just needed to be there, in large numbers, and excited enough.

Damage control and maintenance: skilled technicians stuff their buttocks into ventilation ducts and hull gaps to act as living damage control personnel.

They were randomly hammering and banging with wrenches. I figured they could fix the logic and work with the Waaagh field to maintain basic operation. If a pipe leaked, they would plug it; if a line broke, they would reconnect it; if something was smoking, they would pour water on it.

Maintaining the Waaagh field is its most crucial function. The orcish modified version of the warp engine requires a continuous input of Waaagh energy to operate. The Waaagh field generated by two to three thousand highly excited farts is just enough to maintain that extremely unstable warp engine.

What Lawson has no shortage of is things that excite farts: Waaagh waste.

To humans, these are toxic psionic wastes. To psionics, they are communion.

They stuffed two or three thousand fart demons into the frigate and fed them Waaagh waste until they were extremely excited.

The Waaagh field they generate is the fuel for this wrecked ship.

Lawson sat in front of the command post at the forge stronghold for about five minutes.

Swarm intelligence was running through his mind, simulating strategic scenarios hundreds of times per second.

He was pondering a question: What if the Sword-class frigate was destroyed during the capture? What if the Gera shield malfunctioned during takeoff? What if the subspace engine exploded at the moment of ignition?

His fate cannot be tied to just one rope.

Lawson issued a complete set of strategic instructions through the communication between consciousnesses.

The three-way battle on the deep deck needs to continue.

This is the foundation of all quest lines.

Valentine's Chaos Chapter has already been destroyed by Lawson.

The once four-way meat grinder is now reduced to three: Gorgar's orc army, Khorne's demon legions, and the pureblood horde of genestealers.

The three sides are locked in a fierce battle, but with the absence of the high-intensity confrontations of the Chaos Warriors, the overall intensity of the melee has shown a slight downward trend over the past few days.

This is unacceptable.

If the meat grinder slows down, once Gorgar's hundreds of thousands of orcs raise their heads from the mire and look north, all of Lawson's deployments on the middle deck will be submerged by the green torrent.

Moreover, Lawson's current troops are no longer the guerrilla force that they were two months ago, needing to hide five kilometers away to pick off stragglers.

Nine thousand elite soldiers, including more than two hundred and forty platoon leaders, equivalent to unarmored Astartes fighting brothers.

Forty-six White Tiger Power Armor suits, enhanced with living metal, make each one slightly stronger than a standard Space Marine in overall combat.

A 9,000-node parallel network based on swarm intelligence.

This is a single life form with nine thousand eyes and nine thousand arms fighting.

It's time to step out of the shadows.

Lawson selected 18 units from the 46 White Tiger Armor units, equipped with 1,200 assassins, including 240 platoon leaders who formed a deep strangulation group.

The mission is to proactively penetrate deep into the outer edge of the battle zone and overwhelm all hostile forces with an offensive posture.

Before setting off, Lawson established a completely new tactical formation using the swarm of bees.

The smallest unit: a three-person combat team.

Two melee fighters are equipped with chainsaw swords and explosive pistols, while one gunner is equipped with a heavy explosive pistol.

Three teams of three were organized into a combat squad.

Within the squad, one group was positioned at the front, one at the flank, and one for suppressing fire.

The three squads were organized into a combat platoon of twenty-seven men.

The platoon leader is the strongest individual soldier in the entire platoon and also the core node of the swarm network within that platoon.

The three-three system nested within the three-three system.

Small units work together with precision like gears, while large units coordinate to provide coverage like an iron curtain.

Swarm intelligence gives this tactic a unique characteristic that no imperial army could achieve: global sharing.

Each trio knows their precise location on the battlefield, the precise location of their allies, and the precise distribution of the enemy.

The first strike by the deep strangulation swarm was launched four hours after the order was given.

Jia Er led the first echelon, with six White Tiger powered armored vehicles and four hundred elite soldiers advancing from the forge stronghold towards the deep deck.

Swarm intelligence deploys 400 people into a three-dimensional formation approximately 200 meters wide.

Advance in a triangular pattern along the main passage, with skirmishers penetrating along the parallel passages on the left and right, and reconnaissance teams advancing from the overhead layer.

Four hundred people moved synchronously in more than twenty parallel channels, like a net silently unfolding in the three-dimensional space of the wrecked ship.

Soon, they encountered more than thirty orc boys and two Norberts near deck 130.

Judging from the wounds on their bodies, they were defeated soldiers who spilled out from the core area of ​​the melee.

But the term "defeated soldiers" means nothing to the orcs.

The leader, Norber, grinned when he saw the line of assassins deep inside the passage.

Its mouth stretched from its left ear to its right ear, revealing three rows of jagged fangs.

"WAAAGH!"

"Humans! It's humans!! It's been so long since I've killed a human!!"

Chapter 78 Reversal of Strength and Weakness

In the heart of the chaotic battle, the orcs faced demons and insects. They fought for countless days, and although it was very exciting, those creatures just didn't feel right to be hacked at.

The devil is too hard, the bug is too slippery.

The perfect resistance when a human cuts through something, the sound of bones breaking, the tactile sensation of internal organs being cleaved – that's the sound that Brother Mao loves most.

Norber raised his greatsword and roared behind him, "Brothers! Humans! Charge! Whoever cuts first gets to keep their kill!"

More than thirty orc boys suddenly sprang into action amidst Norber's roar.

The Waaagh fields suddenly expanded in their ecstasy.

They stepped on their companions' shoulders, shoved and howled, surging through the six-meter-wide passage like a green torrent.

Then he died.

Lawson's assassins gave them no chance to perform.

Six bomb guns fired simultaneously from the front.

The smile on the face of the leader, Norbert, was still on his face.

Two explosive shells hit its head simultaneously.

Under the delayed detonation mechanism of the mass reaction warhead, the two warheads first penetrate the skull and then detonate simultaneously inside the cranial cavity.

The overpressure from the explosion sent brain matter, bone fragments, and teeth flying backward in a fan shape, covering the faces and chests of the three rows of orcs behind them.

Its body was still sliding forward with the inertia of its full-speed charge.

The second Norbert fared even worse, its entire body exploding from the inside out.

The orcs in the middle section were torn open by shrapnel.

Two Norbos fell, and six or seven Orc boys went down.

The remaining twenty or so orcs did not slow down.

They were even more excited.

A young orc, missing half his jaw, charged ahead, stepping over Norber's headless corpse, roaring and spewing blood.

"These humans are pretty good!! WAAAGH!!"

Their excitement lasted for less than three seconds.

Because they rushed past the entrance to the flank branch passage.

Nine people were positioned in the left side passage, armed with three grenade launchers and six grenade pistols, with a side-firing range of less than five meters.

Nine bullets pierced the waists of the orcish ranks almost simultaneously.

The bombs detonate between their densely packed bodies, and shrapnel repeatedly penetrates, shatters, and penetrates again between their flesh.