Shipping goods from the game to the World of Warhammer

As the shaking of the flagship Christina gradually subsided, Rhodes rose from the bench in the inquest hall, straightened his clothes which had become wrinkled from being curled up for so long, and then walked toward the bridge.

Before the panoramic observation window of the bridge, that unfamiliar planet hung in the void. Unlike Esperan, it did not have a distinct blue-green hue and white cloud patterns, nor was it shrouded in gray-brown industrial dust like Mordax.

The planet has a darker color scheme, with large swaths of deep green and earthy brown spreading across the continental plates. The clouds are thin and unevenly distributed, and rivers on the surface can be seen through the gaps in the clouds.

Without the glow of any city lights, without the metal framework of an orbital defense station, and without even a decent man-made structure reflecting light, this planet had been forgotten by the human empire for ten thousand years.

"Hey, the boss's back? Having fun with Mordax?"

Liriel's voice came from the side of the bridge. The conman who had recruited the ship in Blackwing Harbor was sitting with his legs crossed on a folding chair next to the navigation console, holding a hot drink he had somehow gotten his hands on, looking completely at home.

During the time Rhodes was away in Mordax, she treated the bridge as her own lounge, which drew criticism from many crew members, but no one dared to say anything out of respect for Rhodes.

"Outsiders are not welcome." Rhodes glanced at her and walked to the observation window. "That's what the oil guy said. Apart from the traveling merchant himself, the Forge World does not accept any other unauthorized personnel."

"Tsk, stingy."

Lillie took a sip of her hot drink and pointed with the rim of her cup at the dark planet outside the window. "Then at least bring us some souvenirs, boss? Like a fire-breathing robotic arm or something? I heard that every one of those tin-clad members of the Mechanics Cult has one."

"I've taken a bunch of standard ammunition and repair supplies; feel free to take them if you want."

"...Never mind, never mind."

Lillie shrank back, clearly showing no interest in ammunition and repair supplies.

Aria walked over from the other side of the bridge. In stark contrast to Liriel's nonchalant demeanor, this steward of the Vandreck dynasty, a family of imperial naval elites, maintained the same formal appearance even on the flagship.

She held a data panel in her hand, which displayed the Thinker's preliminary scan results of the planet.

"Scan complete." Aliya handed the data panel to Rhodes, her tone measured and methodical. "The atmospheric composition is suitable for human survival, the average surface temperature is within the habitable range, slightly warm, and a large area of ​​vegetation cover has been detected on the surface."

She paused, tracing a line on the data panel: "But no industrial emissions, electromagnetic radiation, or man-made orbital objects were detected. If this planet is inhabited, their technology wouldn't be more advanced than the pre-gunpowder era."

Rhodes took the data panel and scanned the charts. It was largely consistent with what he had seen through the observation window: it was a wild, undeveloped world, showing no signs of imperial colonization and barely any space debris.

He looked up and gazed once more at the quiet planet through the observation window. Deep green forests covered most of the continents; from orbital altitude, the forests appeared almost black, like a velvet carpet spread across the Earth's surface. On the plains carved out by rivers, there were lighter-colored patches, perhaps grasslands or small-scale farmlands, but none were large, scattered among the gaps in the dense forest like shallow beaches emerging from a green ocean.

"Looks like a pretty good piece of land," Rod muttered to himself.

“If you intend to bring this place under the dynasty’s jurisdiction,” Aliya stood behind him with her hands behind her back, “a world without an industrial base will require a large initial investment, but it has the advantage of not having a complicated administrative system to manage and not having any conflicts of interest with local powers.”

"It's the Iron Age, how difficult could it be to deal with?" Liriel chimed in from the side.

Aliya didn't reply, but just glared at Liriel, it seemed the two of them didn't get along.

Just as Rhodes was about to have the Thinker analyze the details of the surface area further, Christina's communication panel suddenly lit up.

A notification sound broke the silence of the bridge, and everyone's eyes turned to the tactical console.

"Unknown spacecraft signal detected." The Thinker's synthesized voice echoed in the bridge. "Twelve degrees above starboard at the stern, distance 73,000 kilometers, rapidly decreasing. Signal characteristics... do not match any entry in the Imperial's known ship database."

Before Rhodes could turn around and walk to the tactical screen, the entire flagship suddenly shuddered.

It wasn't the nauseating, soft swaying you feel during subspace travel; it was a real, hard impact transmitted through the hull.

The deck beneath my feet shook violently, the overhead lights flickered twice, and several cups on the tactical table were knocked over, spilling their liquids all over the table.

Several crew members on the bridge who hadn't been holding on properly were thrown back several steps by the swaying, and a young communications officer fell flat on his backside.

An alarm immediately sounded, and red warning lights spun wildly on the ceiling of the bridge.

"Warning! Void Shield's output power has decreased by 20%!"

"What's going on!" Lillie's hot drink spilled halfway onto her clothes, scalding her so much that she jumped up with a scream, kicking over the folding chair with a loud crash.

Aria had already rushed to the tactical console, her hands flying across the control panel. Her movements were swift and decisive, completely devoid of any panic; the naval family's upbringing was on full display in this moment.

The enemy signal captured by the Thinker was projected onto a holographic screen in the center of the bridge, where a three-dimensional ship model slowly rotated and appeared before everyone.

Rhodes stared at the projection for two seconds, stunned.

That thing was less a spaceship and more a small asteroid that had been forcibly transformed into some kind of vehicle by some brute force.

Cannon barrels were nailed everywhere on the irregular rock surface.

Yes, not welded. The Thinker's scans show that the connections are more like being forcibly fastened together with rivets and thick iron chains, with gun barrels of completely different calibers. The larger ones are as thick as the main gun turrets of Imperial cruisers, while the smaller ones may not even be the size of a Marauder grenade launcher's caliber. They protrude haphazardly from the rock surface, sticking out in all directions, with some bent gun barrels even pointing towards their own hulls, which might cause them to explode before firing.

An irregular blue-white flame spewed from the rear of the rock, which the Thinker labeled as a "propulsion device." However, this propulsion device was also noticeably crooked, causing the entire "asteroid" to have a visible deflection during its flight.

On the holographic projection, the trajectory of this thing looked like the messy writing of a drunkard in space, veering off course every few seconds, only to be pulled back by the malfunctioning engine and veering off course again.

But this thing, which no Imperial Navy officer should have thought should be able to fly, actually slammed into the starboard side of the Christina with that shot.

Aliya stared at the irregular rocky outline on the holographic projection: "What is this? An asteroid? A mining ship? Or some kind of interstellar debris? Why can't the Thinker match any data?"

Rhodes did not answer Aliya's question.

Only one sentence flashed through his mind: In the entire Warhammer Galaxy, there is probably only one answer to the question of how an asteroid could be hollowed out and transformed into a warship, whose thrusters were crooked but could still fly, whose cannons were pointed at him and dared to fire, and how all of this could still function normally.

Waaaaaagh!

It seems the reason no one has come to this planet for ten thousand years is not because it is too remote or worthless, but because a bunch of green-skinned people are squatting next to it.