"We and the Gough Boy have been chopping each other since we were born on this ship, and I just remember that there were still a lot of canned shrimp at that time, and now there are basically none." In the heart of the inner part of the wreck, but in the middle of nowhere, a snake bite boss is telling his boys about the history of their honor.

A board is engraved with battle, death, kill, and disorderly and jumbled words to drive the newborn boys' desire to fight.

"However, the days of us slashing each other are about to pass, and our boss has studied the super TMNB jump, and he can kill all our mortal enemies in no time."

The boss said that the crowd was angry, and his fingers roughly pinched the carving knife in his hand, because of the subspace inside the shipwreck, they must keep the orc tribe stationed at all times, such as the newborn boys, and the new boys need to be taken care of.

He is such an unlucky bastard, the more he looks at those happy little orcs at this moment, the more angry he feels, of course, don't get me wrong, the "small" orcs are already the size of human adult males.

But compared to a snake bite clan animal trainer, and the lack of food in this wrecked ship all year round, they are even more short, they are not in the mood to listen to the lecture at all, just pull the fart next to them, which is only the thickness of their arm, and want to eat those small things in one bite to replenish energy.

"Boy, what are you doing?" The huge beast control stick smashed on the orc's head, and after a whining scream, the fart urgently hid behind the old orc.

"You bastard, bad boy, bad orc, fart spirit are all war resources, and the war boss will eat you if he knows it!" The old orcs are yelling, but surviving this strange place, the orcs are actually more united than other orcs in the normal world, even... With love?

The kid covered his head and asked the boss. "Boss, why are we still on the ship, isn't it good for us to leave this place?"

The old orc wiped the iron plate, and the story of the orcs was carved on it, although no orc would look at it. "Stupid boy, this wrecked ship is the foundation of us, waaaagh, it has food, it has guns, it has materials, and it will automatically go to places full of shrimp or whatever."

"Even if this universe is destroyed by hairy sneezing, I won't leave here."

The kid replied. "Boss, what if someone attacks us?"

Said the old orc. "Impossible, in the absence of intelligence, this place is easy to defend and difficult to attack, even the blood axe boys can't get in, not to mention that the shrimp doesn't know why the road in this bad ship is constantly changing, let's just say that our trap is not ordinary shrimp to get by."

The kid asked. "Boss, what if it's canned shrimp?"

The old orc laughed. "Canned? Hahaha, canned ... Can? ”

He frowned, as if he had thought of something. "It doesn't seem like it's enough for the cans to get over, so I'll have to look at the defenses, follow me, boys."

Maybe it was the natural instinct of the orcs, maybe it was the protection of the second brother Mao, when he realized that something was wrong, he suddenly realized that he didn't go to the battlefield to participate in the battle, maybe it was for greater fun.

But apparently, he overestimated himself, walking in the narrow road of scrap ships, obviously this was not the passage of the battleship, but the gap created by the two ships being pressed together, and it was hard to imagine that such a place full of scrap iron walls could have life.

Even genestealers have to go dormant to be viable, but the greenskins still thrive on it, but the long time has made them overestimate themselves.

The boss still sensed something was wrong, and there was a damn strange aura flowing around the corner in front of him.

He's lived here for so long, and naturally he can sense that something is wrong, the space here seems stable and... Fatal.

Just as he was about to open his mouth to alert the boys, a violent impact swept in, which was Astarte's shoulder armor struck at a speed that the orcs couldn't react to, and the orcs also needed lumen balls to maintain basic vision, but for Superman Astarte, it was completely unnecessary.

The warrior smashed the orc's head and stomped on the light source that had fallen to the ground, and the darkness was filled with only the flash of explosive bullets, and only a few seconds later, the light reappeared, the one carried by the Imperial Guard.

Alan Baier looked down at the remains of the orcs, all of whom had died by headshots, reminiscent of bad memories of the war.

The Space Marines continued without saying a word, knowing that this place should be left and let the Imperial Guard clean up the orc corpses, while they only needed to keep the Human Empire safe.

Alan Barr told his men to clean it up with flamethrowers, and continued with a handful of elites, who soon arrived at the orc nursery, where the clutter of waste and the jumbled orc writing had the Space Marines ready to clean up the alien creation.

This is obviously a classroom, although there are no bench seats or anything, the stench of the orcs and the dark cold inside the battleship are all exhausting physical strength all the time, and when a mouthful of mist is exhaled, Alan Baier's fingers brushed the iron plate of the orc education boy.

But Alan Bair said. "I've been at war with orcs, and I know the orc language." But he was actually translating using a shooting assist system, which had existed since the golden age of humanity, and the text had been almost deciphered.

He looked at the metal plate and calmly analyzed. "The war has begun, and here are the outlying tribes of the Snake Bite Clan, and our infiltration is going well."

"At present, the orcs are empty, if we have time, we can clean up the orcs here, and then plant bombs to destroy their lair, but the orc war machine should not be in their lair anymore, and the war boss is also..."

The non-commissioned officer who destroyed the Eagle was blunt. "The strategic value has been greatly reduced, and although the information you get is useful, it seems that luck is not with us."

Alan Beyer retorted. "The Katachans in my team are trap experts, and if we are willing to wait for the rabbits, this matter is not without value, but I don't know how long the orcs will fight, and staying here is a burden for our psykers."

"Staff, how long can the psionics hold out?"

The staff officer replied. "Our team is about 300 people, if we reduce the interference range of the psykers, huddle together without moving, we can last about five days, and we can bring food and water for a week, we can try an ambush."

The non-commissioned officer of the Destruction Eagle wiped the blood from his shoulder armor. "Then carry out the ambush handle."

This is harmless for the Space Marines, there was once a warband surrounded by cultists in the space station, but instead of being killed or defeated, they were caught in a long tug-of-war, and for hundreds of years, the mortal cultists formed new sects, divided, converged, perpetuated, and even those Space Marines became part of the new mythology.

The battle continued until the nearby starry sky was dug up and the cultists ran out of ammunition, and the Space Marines ended the centuries-old battle.

The perfect war machine shaped by the empire can keep running at high speed for decades without eating or drinking, and it is extremely resistant to the harsh environment of mortals, and even to the subspace effects that are deadly to mortals, the space marines can also be quite resistant.

It can be said that even without the help of the Imperial Guard, they may stumble, but they will definitely not fail, even under the influence of the terrifying battleship soul.

On the contrary, the cold temperature inside the battleship makes mortals need to consume a lot of food every day to maintain their strength, and the psionics also have a lot of burdens.

But the physical stance of the orcs without a fight will also dissipate, and in the end it will only be a waste of food.

Regardless, what followed was a long and troublesome affair, with the Katachans collapsing everywhere, arranging traps, bombs, and bunkers in the path provided by the Bloodaxe Orcs, with the Imperial Guard shaping bunkers.

It's just that in Astarte's eyes, such things are all children playing games, and that attitude makes Alan Baier dissatisfied, but there is no way to refute it.

The war of mortals is not worth mentioning in the eyes of the demigods, and it is inevitable that there will be such arrogance, but the fourth regiment of Skadi once slaughtered gods, how can the veterans in the regiment not be arrogant?

If it weren't for the respect for the emperor to shut them up, maybe this group of fierce men with full of martial virtues in the empire would have done it here.

However, there is one more important thing for Alan Baier than war, and that is to recover the relics inside the battleship, he has the help of auxiliary systems, and for him there are countless treasures inside the ships that are wrapped in the creations of the Dark Ages, many places that the orcs cannot open.

He wants to be a second lieutenant, but his actions can't be followed by psykers, who are not members of the Imperial Guard after all, which means that he has to face the malice in the soul of this battleship.

"Staff officer, I'll go to the toilet in a hidden place, you see, don't let them fight." He made a lame excuse, after all, the opportunity to come inside the wrecked ship was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and although the staff officer felt that something was wrong, he would not stop it.

"Come back early, don't you need a psyker to follow?"

"You still want people to see it, don't you?" Alan Baier scolded, but of course the staff officer could see that if he really went to excrete, it would be a ghost.

He didn't pretend, swaggered out of the team, and only dodged when he entered the inside of the wreckland, whether it was Ryan or the Space Marine, they were sensitively felt, but they also knew very well that if the other party didn't say it, it meant that this matter was not an official action.

While such dereliction of duty should not be tolerated in combat, as the Supreme Commander here, he has privileges, and as Space Marines, they feel they don't need the help of mortals.

And when he came to the inside of the battleship, the cold atmosphere here was unaccustomed, and he was out of the protection of the psykers, and the lumen ball lantern in his hand shone on his waist, illuminating the twisting path.

Alan Baier had already prepared to take out the silk thread, tie it to the metal protrusion at the edge of the station, and stretch out the thread while moving forward to ensure his coordinates.

When you walk into the ancient warship of mankind, there is no trace of time in the place where it is 20,000 years old, and those things have been preserved in subspace as if it has only been a hundred years.

The exotic alloys resembling the titanium family are thin and beautiful, and the interior of the battleship is more concise and technological than the Gothic style of the Empire, with many electronic panels and different Imperial ones, and so many wiring structures that Alan Bair can't tell how to operate those things.

The door of the ship has long been opened by the greenskins, and the traces of dismantling are everywhere, but the greenskins do not live here, and the gathering place of the greenskins is generally in the rough gap between the two ships in the scrap ship that are welded together by the subspace, where it is more hidden and convenient for collecting items.

As a result, the interior of the battleship, which looks like the Future Research Institute in the apocalyptic story, is suddenly lined with green-skinned debris, as if a group of crazy Max Rs have run into the future.

The twisted grotesque things in the corridor appear here, just like the monsters that appear after Geller's indifference in subspace, the terrifying things have almost uncertain postures and constant twitching, and the human-like faces make the uncanny valley effect in people's hearts continue to be highlighted.

Some seem to be wearing yellow raincoats, their skin is snow-white, their faces look like living people, but they are not human at all, and some of their bodies twitch, like a bug in the game, constantly distorted.

But Alan Baier, who had seen countless cows, ghosts, snakes, and gods, stepped on that thing with one kick, took out his spear and shot it to break up those messy things, this is the real universe, what are they, and demons are not.

He is a lieutenant colonel of the Imperial Guard of the Astral Army, the Imperial Hammer that protects trillions of humans, and he is definitely not a coward even if he is not protected by soldiers, how can he be frightened by this group of supporting characters of third-rate horror games?

Alan Barr let out a chill breath. "It's so cold in this hanging place, how can those green skins live." He groped his way through the narrow path inside the ship, although it allowed Astarte to pass, but it was definitely not wide, so that about two Astartes walked side by side, but it was still barely tossing and turning for mortals.

It's hard to imagine why humans in the Dark Ages would build such a large corridor without Space Marines, for the Iron Man?

The line in his hand is constantly decreasing, and the subspace creatures that are permeated in the ship are gradually increasing, in order to ensure the number of shots of the relic pistol, try to start bypassing, such a position of the arsenal is generally in the middle of the battleship, and Alan Baier can only pray that it is not ruined by the orcs.

"Found it..."Looking at the intact gate and the door number [Equipment Library] translated by auxiliary equipment, although I don't know how the human bones on this battleship are, they may have been eaten and wiped clean by subspace creatures, or is it greenskin?

Seeing that the thread in his hand was almost used, Alan Baier also felt that luck was on his side.

The problem now is that the metal door in front of him is something that the green skin can't open, so how can Alan Baier open it?

"Promethium, promethium—" he fumbled for the tactical belt to find the precious energy, then inserted the tube into the gate's control panel, trying to get it open with the help of emergency operating instructions.

You know, if you give it to the oil guy, they have to thank the god of all machines for half a day, burn something, and finally use their modified body to forcibly decipher it for half a day, Alan Baier's translation is simply a cheating level.

After two beeps, the lumen ball that had been dormant for tens of thousands of years brightened, and although only the energy in this room was activated, it was still pitch black around.

And the door slowly opened, and what came into view was a large number of... Agricultural equipment?

(End of chapter)