This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 302: What does the Primarch represent?
In a galaxy of despair, what does the Primarch truly represent?
After more than two decades of working alongside the Primarchs, Alex Cain looked at the Astralis before him and gained a deeper understanding of this.

At that time, under the dome of the watchful starport, Imperial Legion troop transport ships were spitting out a tidal wave of Astragalus troops.

Exhausted and bewildered sergeants dragged boxes of equipment along, their mouths agape at the advanced nature of the equipment and the impending notification that it would be theirs; most of them had only ever seen such equipment on the Ministry of Military Affairs' charts.

Officers, holding forms, directed the soldiers, who were overly excited by Astartes' appearance, to form neat rows.

Once the formation is assembled, it will be recorded in detail in the archives, given a further simplified unit number, and equipped. Adjutants will hurry through the ranks, attaching steel tags to the collars of each soldier, each tag bearing a new identification code and combat sequence number.

Everything seemed to be in good order.

“I swear, I have never seen such comprehensive regulations and supplies.”

Looking at the file issued by the Dawnwing Military Council in his hand, an officer of the Astral Army couldn't help but mutter something.

Unlike the Marine Corps, which were generally equipped with more advanced armored vehicles or artillery and tanks, his reserves were precisely assigned a series of assault-type air vehicles.

"Me too."

Political Commissar Alex replied.

He was standing next to the Star Guard officer.

"Hello."

He gave a brief greeting, his tone devoid of unnecessary embellishment, displaying only the directness characteristic of a soldier.

"Hello."

The officer's reply was equally concise.

It was that simple. Two hands, both weathered by time, naturally reached out and clasped each other's.

The two saw each other's names.

Barry Brunson (Commander of the 143rd Airborne Reserve of the Dawn Fleet - Alicia Airborne Regiment - 13th Infantry Regiment)

Alex Kane (Military Advisor of the 3rd Main Force of the Dawn Fleet - 'Broken Sword' of the 43rd Regiment of Cadian)
The small print inside the dog tag contains their past combat sequence information, while the more prominent area is occupied by a standardized serial number.

Everyone is like that.

The Dawn Fleet reorganized the assembled Astragalan forces, which was absolutely necessary; otherwise, the management of these Astragalan legions would have become a complete mess.

These soldiers came from all over the galaxy and were gathered here by the will of the Primarch. Naturally, they were not familiar with the command of the Dawn Fleet, nor did they know anyone other than their own unit.

Hidden within those official serial numbers are the names of their hometowns and the production and construction corps to which they belong.

Just a few letters.

It carries the last remaining, comforting sense of belonging.

They exchanged names with a glance, and the two officers, who had only met briefly, parted ways once again, each disappearing into the busy crowd on the deck.

After completing their specific equipment allocation, these Astral Legion members will receive a ninety-standard-day training period to familiarize themselves with their upgraded weapon systems. Subsequently, based on an assessment of their combat capabilities during the adaptation period, they will be precisely deployed to various strategic nodes in the Misty Sector.

This process demonstrates astonishing efficiency and precision.

After the establishment of an administrative team with Astartes as the main body for information processing, the information processing capabilities of each legion became increasingly efficient.

The specially organized Astronautical forces were deployed with such precision that, even if they could not achieve a perfect theoretical match, their accuracy far surpassed any military deployment record from the old Imperial era.

"war."

Alex's gaze pierced through the reinforced glass of the observation window, fixed on the eternal sea of ​​stars outside.

Several years have passed since I left the Dawn Sector, but the journey back has not been as uneventful as I had imagined.

The fleet was blocked on the warning planet by the threat of chaos, causing a major delay to the voyage that should have been completed within two years.

After taking control of Vigilant Star, the Primarchs concentrated their forces using their authority, clearly preparing for a protracted war.

Alex, who had been enjoying a period of retirement within the Dawn Fleet, also answered the call to serve as a military advisor, returning to the war he was most familiar with.

What should have been a peaceful retirement voyage has in the blink of an eye transformed into a new expedition.

Commissar Alex remained indifferent to this, after all, he was just a political commissar of the Astral Army, and the Empire was unlikely to grant him any special treatment. In the past, it was common for him to be suddenly transferred to command other units midway through a campaign.

For a political commissar, a mundane military career is simply a luxury. Every sudden transfer order often means taking over a battle situation on the verge of collapse.

Being able to return to the military through a formal conscription process after a short retirement, and even having a buffer period to familiarize oneself with the troops again, is practically a gift from the emperor.

Commissar Alex returned to his unit, a force composed of Cardians.

The 43rd Regiment of the Kadian Army, 'Broken Sword'.

The Cardians are role models for the Astral Army, and even the Primarchs are eager for the valuable experience they bring.

Driven by the Primarchs, new forces modeled after the Cardians and incorporating elite troops from the Dawn Sector are gradually taking shape.

This recognition from the original gene source fills every Cardia veteran with heartfelt pride as they stand tall.

A group of officers surrounded the Ultramarines' Astartes, actively analyzing the battle plan. They were all battle-hardened commanders, while the Space Marines, with their extraordinary thinking speed, provided them with more detailed and accurate data supplements during the analysis.

Compared to their awkward teamwork during the Dawn Expedition, their communication is now exceptionally smooth and harmonious.

"political commissar!"

After checking the dog tags, the soldiers outside the gate saluted and let him through.

They are equipped with state-of-the-art void combat armor, and each soldier carries a devastatingly powerful incendiary weapon.

But this is only the basic configuration.

As the most elite legion in the Dawn Sector, their true strength lies in their super-heavy vehicles, their hulls adorned with battle medals. They will march alongside the Astartes-led battle groups to the bloodiest battlefields, facing the most terrifying enemies in the galaxy.

He returned the salute and strode into the operations command room.

The officers were making preparations actively, their every move radiating unprecedented enthusiasm.

Commissar Alex withdrew his gaze from them after a brief pause.

He rarely relies on the old rhetoric to motivate his soldiers, especially those from the Dawn Sector.

Often, he uses his own experience as an elderly person to provide psychological counseling to young people, just like the psychological institutions that are gradually becoming widespread in various military units, undertaking functions such as psychological counseling services, psychological emergency support, and key personnel training.

Because they now belong to a powerful and efficient regime. They have ample supplies, advanced logistical support, and the assistance of the Imperial Navy, Astartes, and other combat forces.

as well as--

The Primarch's command.

Even Alex himself found it hard to understand why he had such expectations of the Primarchs. He was supposed to be a realistic person, but he would get excited by a Primarch's order and feel thrilled by the Primarch's ideal blueprint.

No need for rousing speeches, they only need to give orders.

The entire army will then engage in battle with unprecedented enthusiasm.

His gaze swept over the soldiers' well-maintained armor, past the demigods and mortal officers who got along well, and landed on the field menu, which appeared to be diverse due to the efficient distribution.

In a galaxy of despair, what does the Primarch truly represent?
Alex reached out and fiddled with the stars on his fingertips.

He shared his battlefield wisdom, gained through bloodshed, with his colleagues without reservation, and then quietly awaited the Primarchs to judge the value of these experiences.

Images from his memory flashed through his mind:
Cobalt blue armor stands atop the command throne; golden-red spears tear through enemy lines; blood-red cloaks flutter in the smoke of battle.

hope.

Because in this dark age

Only the Primarch can save humanity.

"We must fight for it."
-
With Romulus's meticulous planning and Arthur's effective execution, Dawnwings steadily advanced its defense plan.

Having anticipated a large-scale invasion that might erupt in the near future, the Dawnwings decided to first inform Terra to prevent them from throwing some bad things at their allies in a fit of pique.

"Lord Ramses, greetings, nice to meet you. I come from Terra..."

Before a political officer from the Ministry of the Interior of Terra could finish his self-introduction, Ramses hastily waved his hand and stated his name:

"Where are the Itu Hamtalyons?"

Upon seeing this, the political officer explained:

"It's not that Lord Ittu is unwilling to come in person, but Terra's affairs are too busy. Lord Ittu is now the brain of the Foreign Affairs Department, and he really cannot leave his post."

"I will report it, and Lord Itu will take the time to handle the matter."

"To act as the brain inside a dead, decaying body is certainly a busy job."

Seeing this, Ramses couldn't help but sneer.

So the Department of the Interior hasn't been freed from Terra's internal affairs yet, and is still cleaning up poop.

These Terran officials are hilarious; they're so incompetent they can't even get their hands on the hottest shit.

He exchanged a glance with the Imperial Guard captain beside him, who showed a look of shame on his face.

"All the instructions issued cannot be passed down, so more instructions must be issued to urge the previous instructions to be followed up. In the end, what is left is a lot of problems to be solved, but we don't even know what they are. Such busyness is just going through the motions and has no real meaning."

The Primarch was very outspoken and offered insightful advice.

The Shield Guard Company Commander looked increasingly ashamed.

These sharp words did provoke the young official to some extent.

How could he not understand the hidden meaning in Ramses's words?
But ironically, he seemed to have no way to refute Ramses. This Primarch's mouth was as if it had been blessed. Although the Custodians had never seen his name in any books or archives preserved in Terra, every word he spoke hit Terra's current weak points precisely, causing excruciating pain, yet making it difficult to deny.

After all, isn't that the current situation in Terra?

The nation of Terra died in the Great Rebellion, but the brain known as the Highlord Council refused to accept this fact. Instead, the tenacious body's nerves replaced the original brain after the body's death, taking over the central position.

It constantly issues orders, but receives very few responses. The imperial fleets patrolling the stars and the scattered merchants and wanderers are the last remaining operational capabilities of this regime after the great rebellion.

In other regions, they only produce a slight neural response when faced with predators biting them.

"Well, that's it."

Ramses sighed as he handed the documents to the government officials.

Anyway, it's just a notification to Terra, and we don't expect them to react in a short time.

The official, who was in a bad mood after being reprimanded by the Primarch, chose to bow and take his leave.

Frankly, compared to all sorts of slander, this attitude of stating the facts that you can't be relied on is more hurtful.

"too slow."

No wonder Master Ya was too lazy to come over.

Ramses muttered a complaint to himself as he met the questioning gaze of the Shield Guard Captain.

Clearly, the Shield Guard captain was also curious about the Primarchs' views on the current state of the Empire.

"In such cases, my advice is amputation."

He spoke very directly.

"This is impossible!"

The shield guard company commander instinctively gasped in surprise.

Who cuts off someone's head directly?
Then he realized his rudeness and immediately corrected his posture.

"I apologize, sir, for my rudeness."

"That's impossible—indeed, there has never been a similar example before."

Ramses repeated the words of the Shield Guard Company Commander, which calmed the commander down a bit.

"But how will you know if you don't try?"

"?"

"The Misty Starfield is a good place."

"???"

(End of this chapter)