Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 450 Rust Scars and D-7
Deep in the shadows of Novaya Zemlya Airport, the stench of rotting garbage and the smell of years of accumulated oil slicks permeated the air.

Beside a labyrinthine network of massive sewage pipes, a mutant community known as "Rust Scars" struggles to survive.

The terrifying aftershocks of the purge personally led by High Sister Katharina a few weeks ago still linger in everyone's memory like cold rust.

The "Lao Lie Tui"—an elderly man who can only drag himself along due to severe ossification of his right leg joint—is a recognized coordinator in the community.

At that moment, he was watching several young men clumsily repairing a section of the ventilation duct lining that had been grazed by a stray bullet, using scrap metal they had collected.

The smell of burnt flesh still seemed to linger in the air, a mark left deep in the bones by the chainsaw sword tearing flesh, the bombs shattering the torso, and especially the destructive heat of the promethium flames.

The storm-like purge swept through several neighboring settlements, targeting "heretics" and "severely mutated individuals."

The "Rust Scar" community narrowly escaped disaster because of its deeper location, timely early warning, and the old lame man's decisive order to seal off all secondary passages.

But the seeds of fear had already been sown. The Imperial Security Forces’ regular “Cleansing Days” were terrifying enough, but the arrival of the Battle Sisters represented an absolute and unquestionable destructive force from the highest will of the Empire.

The community became even more lifeless, and the slightest disturbance could trigger a panic-stricken commotion. Vigilance and distrust of the imperial power reached their peak.

In this oppressive atmosphere, the empire's tentacles reached out again, but in a completely different way.

Several teams of low-ranking officials, dressed in rough airport guard uniforms and carrying rudimentary data tablets, appeared nervously at the pipe connection near the main entrance of the "Rust Scar" community, under the tight guard of heavily armed soldiers.

The soldiers lowered their guns, but their fingers gripped the trigger guards tightly. Their eyes scanned every dark corner deep in the pipes and the shadows behind the garbage heaps with vigilance. Tension filled the air.

An official who appeared to be a minor leader, pale-faced, strained to straighten his back, raised a buzzing, distorted megaphone, and shouted into the deep tunnel: "By order of the Acting Governor, the esteemed High Priestess Katharina, and Judge Chen Xi! A notice is hereby given to all citizens of the Empire in this region!"

His voice was slightly distorted with nervousness, echoing in the empty pipes.

"The Empire will implement a new management policy for mutant settlements in this region! Understand?" He swallowed hard and read from the data panel: "First, basic drugs to inhibit the worsening of mutations will be distributed once a month at designated receiving points! Registration is required for collection!"

II. Recruiting members whose limb mutations fall within the Imperial standard for mild mutations! Those who pass the screening process can perform tasks such as designated airport waste disposal and basic pipeline maintenance in exchange for a fixed food ration!
III. All settlements must relocate to the D-7 abandoned maintenance section area designated by the Empire within the specified timeframe! They will be subject to unified management! To reiterate, relocate to the D-7 area!

After reading it aloud, the official seemed to have exhausted his courage. He quickly put down the megaphone, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, and nervously looked at the fully armed captain of the guard beside him.

Deep inside the pipe, all was silent except for the dripping sound of garbage falling into rotten water.

Countless eyes watched them from the darkness, filled with suspicion, fear, and deep hostility.

After a long while, a hunched figure, dragging a stiff leg, slowly emerged from behind a pile of twisted metal scraps.

He's an old cripple.

His cloudy eyes swept over the cold muzzles of the soldiers' guns and the uneasy faces of the officials, finally settling on the junior officer who had spoken, and he asked in a hoarse voice, "Medicine? Job? Moving?"

He spoke each word slowly, with a heavy sense of skepticism.

“When have the imperial lords ever cared about our lives? Those guys in black armor just finished burning people last time. Now, what new tricks are they trying to pull? Gather us together so they can burn us even more thoroughly next time?” His words caused a suppressed commotion and low murmurs of agreement deep within the pipe.

The official's face turned even paler, and he looked to the captain of the guards for help.

The captain, a stern-faced veteran, stepped forward, slightly raising his gun, his voice flat and unwavering: "An order is an order! This is not negotiable. The medicine and the job are a favor from His Excellency the Judge."

Relocation is mandatory; Zone D-7 is safer and easier to manage than here.

You have three days to prepare. We will come back in three days. Those who have not yet moved will be...

He didn't finish his sentence, but that cold pause and the grip on the gun handle were more powerful than any threat.

The empire's people left, leaving behind only deathly silence and deeper chaos.

The community erupted in chaos. "Medicine? It's definitely poison! They're trying to slowly kill us!" screamed a woman with scales covering her arm.

“Go to D-7? That’s a trap! If you go there, you’ll be locked up and left to die!” A young man waved his extra, deformed arm.

“Work? Food rations? Really? Old Limpy… My child is crying from hunger. His mutation isn’t severe, he just has an extra little finger…” A mother holding her baby, her face gaunt, looked at Old Limpy with a faint glimmer of hope in her eyes.

The old lame man remained silent, his cloudy gaze sweeping over the faces contorted with fear, despair, or hunger.

He remembered the roar of the scorching jets, the children who had starved to death, and the captain of the guard's emotionless ultimatum.

“The Empire… has never changed,” he finally said hoarsely, his voice filled with exhaustion, “but now… besides fire, they seem to have something else in their hands… a little bit of… bait to survive.”

Going to D-7 means going into a cage. Not going… next time they come, it probably won't just be shouting instructions.”

He looked at the mother holding the baby and the child beside her with only six mutated fingers: "At least... for the child... let's try? Maybe... we can survive."

In the command center of the port building, Chen Xi was looking through the huge observation window at the transport ships shuttling back and forth on the landing pad below.

High Sister Katharina stood a step behind him, her power armor meticulously polished to a spotless shine, a stark contrast to the bustling port outside the window.

She handed over a data board.

"Your Honor, preliminary implementation report on the mutant management pilot program." Her voice remained rigid, with a barely perceptible hint of strain: "The first relocation orders have been issued to the target settlement 'Rust Scar,' and the response has been strong, as expected."

Some members expressed their willingness to relocate and register for work, mainly those with mild variants and their families.

The drug receiving point has been established and registration has begun. Surveillance cameras and guard posts in area D-7 have been deployed.

Chen Xi took the data panel and quickly browsed the numbers on it: number of people intending to migrate, first batch of registered workers, drug distribution plan, and guard patrol route map.

Below the report, Katarina added: "Initial order was established, monitoring of designated areas was effective, the labor shortage at the grassroots level was partially filled, and no large-scale conflicts or open confrontations occurred."

Chen Xi put down the data panel, his gaze still fixed on the window, but his focus seemed to have pierced through the steel deck and landed on the dark and damp D-7 area underground.

He could picture the scene: terrified mutants scrambling into abandoned maintenance bays under the cold gaze of Imperial soldiers, like livestock being herded into a pen; mothers clutching their children tightly, watching the guards warily; and some who still harbored doubts about the Empire, agonizingly weighing each step...

In the deeper shadows, those souls twisted by despair and pain are perhaps more easily seduced by the whispers of chaos, precisely because of the empire's direct intervention and tightening control over communities.

Chaos was expected, and growing pains were inevitable.

“Maintain order, control mutations, provide labor, suppress chaos…” Chen Xi repeated his four goals in a low voice: “Sister Katharina, the report shows that the first three points have made initial progress, which is good! Continue to strictly implement the policy.”

He turned around and looked sharply at the high nun.

"Strengthen the guards and patrols in Zone D-7, especially at night. Medicines must be distributed on time, and every penny of wages must be paid on time. Record the performance and stability of every registered worker." He emphasized, "Most importantly, your combat nuns and guards must keep a close watch on the community."

Any sign of inciting hatred or spreading heresy, even if it's just a rumor, must be reported to me immediately and secretly. I need to know the undercurrents, not wait for them to erupt.

“Yes, Your Honor.” Katarina nodded. Although she might have preferred to eliminate all threats with fire, she understood the practical significance of Chen Xi’s plan.

The lights of Novaya Zemlya Airport flickered outside the huge observation windows, illuminating the bustling port, but not the fear and struggle inside the underground D-7 maintenance bay.

There, a mutant community is being forced to shift from a life of surviving in the shadows to a struggle for survival under the cold, ruthless control of the Empire.

This brutal experiment, conducted in the shadow of the Empire, not only concerns the survival of every mutated life in the "Rust Scar" community, but also carries Chen Xi's hope of solving the huge manpower shortage and potential instability in the Rostov sub-sector.

In this star sector that has just been ravaged by war and is in dire need of reconstruction, any plan that can bring a sliver of stability and labor force is worth proceeding cautiously on this thorny path.

(End of this chapter)