PFC Chapter 396: Local Customs and People, Rest and Take a Break (6k Extended)
Chapter 396: Local Customs and People, Rest and Take a Break (6k Extended)
Colonel Hafali frowned slightly. He had a Space Marine as his introducer, so he didn't know where the big shot behind him came from.
The squad leader and others immediately stepped forward to report the situation. After a brief whisper, Hafali immediately understood and immediately opened his arms and welcomed him with a smile:
"It's Inquisitor Rebos. The magnetic field on Catachan has been disturbed by thunderstorms recently, making it difficult to communicate with each other. I'm very sorry that I can't help you.
I am sorry for the loss of your comrade, and of course I am grateful for your assistance to Bunker 27. The Catachan Jungle Warriors will always be your best friends."
Rebos put away the identification device and blocked the other party's overly friendly behavior. He nodded as a greeting and asked for permission to talk.
"Understood. We will arrange a camp for your subordinates and provide them with the best medical and mechanical transformation services. Please follow me."
Two jeeps were parked aside. Caroline and the other normal people had no problem getting in, but the larger Zachli had some difficulty getting in.
So Colonel Hafali quickly stopped a pickup truck, forced Ogrin out of the car, and then led everyone to the combat center.
"stand at attention!"
When everyone walked into the tree house, the loud commands and neat movements demonstrated the proud and heroic demeanor of the Catachan warriors. The colonel waved his hand and the soldiers quickly sat down and performed their duties.
The Zakli Think Tank threw the remains of the Iron Warrior to the ground, and Colonel Hafari pouted and kicked twice, saying:
"A bunch of mutinous beasts, fuck! If I had this set of equipment and this strong body, I would dare to board the battleship alone. Being a fucking traitor is really despicable, haha!"
He was quick to speak and didn't mince words, which made him much easier to talk to than most leaders. Rebos immediately asked if Chaos warband incursions into Catachan were frequent.
The colonel slapped his thigh and gave his answer.
"Of course it's frequent. As frequent as my... my pants... my underwear are half-dry, as frequent as getting eczema on Catachan."
As he spoke, he scratched his lower back and continued:
"I know what you want to ask. We don't know about other planets, but those bears on Catachan are not worth paying attention to.
At our forest ape base, we have to send 1500 people out every day to carry out weeding tasks within a 500-meter radius, otherwise the number of attacks will double within two days.
16-year-old Catachan warrior prepares to hunt down alien visitors
So even if we throw three or five hundred Space Marines here, they won't make much of a splash. Catachan will teach anyone who doesn't respect it a lesson."
"So what you mean is that if we find out that they are plundering resources on Catachan, you won't send troops to deal with them?" Caroline asked.
The colonel nodded, his hands folded.
"That's totally unnecessary. Any resources worth plundering on Catachan are fraught with danger. The next mine is full of fucking giant bugs. Don't worry about them.
What, did you receive any reports? Who the hell is going to do something bad? "
"36°16'N, 117°6'E."
Rebos reported the coordinates, and Colonel Hafali immediately made a look of understanding.
"Oh... I see, I see. Now I understand. You are here for the ancient temple, right? Sisters, Orders, Chapters, Inquisition, I know what they are.
However, it is necessary to mention that the place is indeed very evil. The 141st Regiment of Ground Rats and the sages from Riza have been there many times before and suffered terrible losses, otherwise they would not have left their base to avoid the beast tide.
This time you are here to solve this problem once and for all, right?"
Everyone nodded, but the colonel hesitated after receiving the affirmative answer.
"Hiss... the timing is not right. The Catachan region has been very unstable recently. The Second Military Region has just issued an Orc Waaagh alert. All the troops in the bunkers in various places must be withdrawn and concentrated to resist the Orcs.
If you want to investigate the situation there, we can send you three companies with a total of about 1200 people. If you want more, we will need to transfer them from other bases."
"That's enough. The Zakri Think Tank will use astropathic communication with the ships in orbit and ask the Order to prepare for a landing operation in the Beacon area in three days."
Zachary immediately activated his psychic power to build a communication platform. Fifteen minutes later, the voice of the ruling priest came out from Zachary's mouth along with the psychic power of the astropath.
"Sir Rebos, the orc waaagh trend is indeed spreading near the planet Catachan, but the Order has detected their trajectory and found that it is not our target area.
We have about a 40-day window period. After clearing the debris on the ground, we will transport the lead-sealed coffin to the ground by teleportation to complete the seal recovery of the target.
During this period, the Order's ships will promptly dispatch manpower to provide escort strikes, so please feel free to boldly carry out the recovery plan."
Instructions were given one by one, and everyone began to prepare for the recycling plan. Everything was proceeding in an orderly manner.
But after the psychic communication was shut down, the ruling priest opened the secret communication channel on the ship and sent the binary code of "Plan to unfold" into the dark starry sky.
...
At the military camp, Captain Alpha led the rest of the team to the camp to repair their machines, and Benson and his companions did not suffer any harm because of the protection of the Sentinel mechas.
Everyone lay on their backs on the camp beds in the camp, listening to the whistling wind and all kinds of noisy sounds outside. For a moment, their exhausted spirits could not bring them to sleep.
The events of the entire day kept flashing back in my mind like a scene from a movie. Every time I closed my eyes, the sight of that brother being dragged out of the sentry post and his constant wailing seemed to echo in my ears.
Horrifying plants, terrifying animals, terrible environment, heavy breathing, bloodshot eyes, tense nerves, some people couldn't sleep at night, some of them tossed and turned.
"Shit... I can't sleep. Anyone want to go for a drink with me?" Benson turned over and suggested depressedly. The others looked at each other and nodded and followed.
With gloomy faces, everyone left the barracks and walked quickly towards the bustling place. Standing in the brightly lit place, Benson and others felt the wilder customs and culture of Catachan.
A group of children wearing only shorts and vests lined up in an army. They looked to be no more than 7 or 8 years old. Each of them had a machete on his waist, had dark skin and bright eyes, and looked like a soldier ready to go into battle and kill the enemy.
Following a command from the mechanical arm instructor, the children strode towards the rope hanging on the tree branch, and then used their hands and feet to climb a hundred meters on the rope without any protection.
Once they reached the branches, they could not return the same way they came. They had to climb down the tree trunk, which was so large that it would take several adults to close it with their arms outstretched. They drew out their swords and cut into the bark, holding on tightly with their twenty calloused fingers, and groped their way down carefully, step by step.
"Catachan has no mercy! Only warriors can gain its respect. Softies are strangled to death the day they are born. You are the lucky ones, but you need to work harder to survive!
You are part of Catachan, you are Catachan's little warriors, you are more powerful than those bastards of Cadia, and more powerful than those bastards of Mordian!"
The instructor's roar inspired the children to move forward bravely. Looking at those tiny figures, Benson and others were stunned for a moment, and could only sigh that the harsh environment had already made the warriors strong.
"Di Di!"
"Don't block the way, those guys in front!"
The truck horn honked behind them, and Benson and the others quickly made way. A group of Catachan warriors saw them coming and quickly gathered around.
The door curtain opened, and the quartermaster on the car immediately took out a small notebook and began to call out names. Those whose names were called happily took the brick-sized metal blocks, turned around and ran to the high-temperature smelting furnace nearby.
"This is the third batch. There will be two more batches tomorrow. The mines will be hard to come by next time. Don't let them go to waste!"
Soon, the sound of banging could be heard all around, and all those who received the metal blocks, both men and women, struck while the iron was hot. The others who did not receive any metal blocks looked at the blades of various colors that were gradually taking shape, as if they were looking at some treasure, with fiery eyes.
"Brother, is this some kind of Catachan tradition? Why do you have to forge iron yourself?" Benson couldn't help but ask.
"Humph! Only the Catachan sword is the most reliable weapon. Only the sword sharpened on stone is the sharpest weapon. He is our right-hand man and the key to our survival every day." The sturdy man said proudly.
"Isn't the chainsword useful?"
“Ahahahaha.” The sturdy man laughed and patted Benson on the shoulder. He stopped just before he was about to break the other man’s throat.
"When you encounter plants that can get your chainsaw sword stuck, you'll know that simplicity is the most reliable. Chainsaw swords are extremely troublesome to maintain, and the lubricating oil on them will also contaminate the captured prey. It's not worth it.
Damn, I really want to exchange my arm for a knife blank..."
The Catachan sword is a symbol of identity and status. Rich nobles all want to get one, but there is no demand for it.
Benson and the others were so shocked that they quickly gave up their ridiculous desire to buy one. Fortunately, they did not make such an unreasonable request, otherwise who knows how big a joke it would have been.
After asking for a while, they finally arrived at the tavern in the stronghold, and were shocked once again. Although they guessed that the wild Catachan would definitely not prohibit the supply of alcohol, they did not expect that hundreds of people would drink together.
As soon as they entered the tavern, the loud singing almost deafened them. The smell of alcohol in the air alone made them sneeze continuously. It was hard to imagine what the Catachan warriors were drinking.
"For war! For death! For the Emperor! Drink!!!"
Walking around the group of people who were singing and dancing, Benson stood in front of the bar and asked at the top of his voice about the drinks. However, before he could hear what kind of drinks were available, the bartender had already brought six small cups of turbid yellow strange liquid and placed them in front of them.
After some gesturing and shouting, Benson finally understood what the other party meant. It was probably that the first cup of wine that outsiders must drink was "rotten intestine wine", a Catachan specialty drink brewed from the intestines of various uncleaned creatures.
"Drink! Only after drinking this cup will you be qualified to continue tasting Catachan's drinks. When in Rome, do as the Romans do, buddy!"
The bartender smiled brightly, and the Catachan warriors around him were looking at them intently, including the squad leaders of Bunker No. 27, who were urging them most urgently.
The six people looked at the unknown flocs floating in the wine glass and wondered if they would fall to the ground because of a glass of wine. Although each of them had been injected with a booster vaccine before leaving the ship, the bubbling liquid did not look safe.
"Fuck, if I can get knocked out with just one glass of wine, that would be pretty good. I can have a good sleep. Brothers, I'll finish it first, remember to carry it back for me."
Benson gritted his teeth and stamped his feet, then picked up the wine glass and drank it all in one gulp. The liquid did not look like wine but rather was as viscous as some kind of starch mixture.
His throat seemed to lose the ability to swallow, and the sip of wine was stuck in his throat. Benson's veins were about to burst, and his eyes were bulging like light bulbs.
At last, she nodded repeatedly, not knowing whether she was crying or laughing. Fortunately, she swallowed it back. However, when she opened her mouth, a hoarse groan came out, and two lines of clear tears immediately welled up under her eyelids.
"Uh...e...huh...mm...cough cough cough cough!!!"
"Hahahahaha! A warrior is born! Three cheers for the stranger who is not afraid of death!"