Warhammer: Striving to Be a Grinding Man

Chapter 178 The Extension of Industry

Larson's focus wasn't on the ship. He stood on the observation platform on the outer edge of Wangshu, his field of vision array peering down through the armored glass at the steel structure that stretched across most of the earth's surface.

Two years have passed. When he first stood here, the ground was just a raised skeleton, the exposed terrazzo truss, and the sparks from welding torches flickering on the structure thousands of meters high, like a swarm of fireflies clinging to the bones of a giant beast. The project report stated a completion time of four years, a number he thought was incredibly exaggerated at the time. In the end, it only took two years.

The framework is now covered by armor plates, with dark gray terracotta plates spreading layer upon layer along the outer wall of the base, extending from the edge to the center. At the top of the base, an array of adamantium connectors for the cable anchors gleams coldly in the starlight; hundreds of connectors are arranged in concentric circles, each precisely calibrated. The surface anchoring wells are over a hundred kilometers deep, with adamantium piles penetrating the Earth's crust, locking the entire base to the planet's geological structure.

It's completed. Phase 1. Main base and synchronous railport center structure.

Larson turned his gaze from the Earth's surface to orbital space. The space elevator's cables rose from the center of its ground base, extending into the thin atmosphere. Currently, there were only three lightweight cables, no more than a meter thick, almost invisible in the slanted sunlight of the star; only when the angle of the light was just right did they appear as a thin, silvery-white streak. The cables were covered with a radiation-shielding coating and a micrometeorite protection layer, and at intervals were embedded a set of attitude control thrusters. They extended parallel to each other at precise intervals, reaching directly into the geosynchronous orbit.

A deep, rumbling engine roared from afar. Not just one, but several thousand propellers on six new ships were undergoing simultaneous preheating tests, firing in turn. The sound traveled through the hull structure to the metal platforms in the berth area, mostly ablated by the vacuum, but the low frequencies still permeated the structural framework, forming a continuous low-frequency hum within the bulkheads of the Wangshu. Larson could hear it, and he could feel it. Millions of people were spread across the berths of the six ships—technical officers were checking reactor output curves, calibrating the light lance resonators, and testing the macro gun elevation mechanisms. Each ship needed to complete full-system testing before delivery.

He didn't need to look. He knew the ships' specifications. Garros never delivered substandard vessels.

The three cables continue to extend, reaching the synchronous track.

The orbital port hovers in geosynchronous orbit, 36,000 kilometers above the Earth's surface. Its current outline is much smaller than Wangshu, a steel construct operating in sync with the main star of Galos in the void. Its attitude thrusters spew streams of ions at an extremely slow frequency, and every few minutes a brief blue streak illuminates from the side of the port, lasting less than two seconds before fading away. Interface bases extend from the side of the port, with docking supports retracted into their standby positions. It is a preliminary core framework, with expansion interfaces already pre-installed at the ends of the skeleton.

Phase two is underway. The expansion modules of the railport are in place, and engineering operatives are climbing along the outer shell of the port. Insect-shaped operatives hover and work amidst six plasma thruster jets, securing prefabricated sections in their designated positions. A new framework extends outward from the sides of the port, with ceramic steel plates being assembled piece by piece in a vacuum. Welding sparks ignite every few seconds in the darkness, and orange-red spots of light briefly linger on the armor plates before dissipating.

The third phase of the plan has been approved for the casting of the temple, which includes more cables and heavy industrial lifting platforms capable of supporting giant platforms weighing 100,000 tons.

Behind him, the thrusters of six Odysseus-class ships were entering full-power stability testing one by one. The engine roar transitioned from low-frequency pulses to a sustained, muffled thud—the tests were nearing completion. The sea trial sequence was set; the six ships would depart their berths in turn, completing short-range cruises within the system. Three months later, they would be wherever the Imperial Navy needed them.

Six ships have been delivered. Millions are finishing up the last vestiges of work at the berths. Larson watches it all unfold—Gallos is accelerating. The navy is in the berths, Astartes' shipbuilding orders are piling up, merchant ronin are trading people with Gallos. And latest, a charter fleet is requesting supplies and maintenance. The intelligence has already reached his office; he's already seen the cover of the documents—

The insignia of the Charter Fleet superimposed itself on the seal of the Galos Fleet. This meant that Galos was no longer a peripheral system that needed to be marked. It had been embedded in the network of Imperial shipping lanes, becoming a node on that network.

He looked up and gazed out the window again. The cables were out of sight in the light, but only he knew they were there, taut, rising continuously, connecting the ground to the tracks.

Later that day, at the Wangshu Ship Bridge.

The domed cabin of the Galos Fleet's highest command was lit by cold, white lights. Thousands of staff terminals operated continuously on their workstations, and the array of screens on the walls displayed real-time images of the outside world from Wangshu and fleet deployment data in a loop. A dozen or so people stood on the central platform.

Marcus stood at the forefront, the blue halo of his right mechanical eye steadily expanding and contracting as his gaze swept across the faces on the platform. On the wall behind him, a network node distribution map was slowly rotating, several dotted lines marked with different colors extending, intersecting, and converging at a few highlighted nodes against the dark background.

Phyllis leaned against the edge of the control panel, arms crossed. She had just returned from Turenstein, and the creases from her warp travels still lingered on the shoulders of her crimson technical priest robe.

Onris stood on the other side of the holographic projection platform. The commander of the Netway fleet had just returned from the Shattered System via the Netway. On the data projection in front of him, a node highlighted in red was slowly rotating.

"—Number 0733." His voice rang out in the cold light of the bridge, carrying the characteristic flat tone of a Tech Priest. "Activation signal was first detected five days ago. Subsequent observations show that this node has experienced two crossing events within three days, the pattern of which matches the characteristics of the Dark Eldar reconnaissance squadron. The main squadron has not yet appeared, and it is expected to cross into the real universe within the next one to two weeks."

He paused for a moment, the optical lens flickering in the dim light. "The third reconnaissance team remained in the tunnel for longer than planned in order to lock onto the signal. They returned with damage, but the data was intact."

Marcus spoke up: "With the current troop deployment, is it sufficient to deal with a single main force formation crossing the border?"

"That's enough," Onris replied, "but the problem isn't with that node. There are currently four confirmed active nodes, and we don't know if the Dark Eldar will activate more at the same time. What about the other three if the ambush squads are stationed at one node?"

He pulled up another set of data projections, showing four highlighted arcs extending across the network. "Gallos Netway Port needs a mobile reserve force. With the existing Netway Fleet forces alone, we cannot simultaneously meet the needs of ambush and patrol."

Marcus paused for a few seconds. "First, deploy two Moon-class destroyers—the Dreadnought and the newly commissioned Steelhammer—along with six Cobra destroyers, to the Netway Fleet. You will be in charge of their deployment."

Onris's optical lens flashed. He jotted down a note on the data panel: "The Netway Fleet will have three layers of coverage:"

The ambush formation is stationed at confirmed nodes, the patrol formation is patrolling the main passageways, and the reserve formation is on standby in the port area.

"Not enough." Edric stepped forward from the edge of the platform. The captain of the Fireseed stood to Marcus's right, arms crossed. "The main force of the Galos fleet should all be transferred to the Web Path. The current deployment on Galos is rigid; the maneuverability within the Web Path is several times faster than in the real universe. Galos only needs to retain its mobile forces as a last line of defense—the Black Pearl, the Fireseed, the Truth, and the Phoenix, four capital ships. The rest should all be incorporated into the Web Path sequence and uniformly deployed by Onris."

Marcus didn't respond immediately. He turned to the rotating node distribution map on the wall, looked at it for a moment, and then said, "Two months ago, two Chaos Raiders attempted to enter the inner perimeter of Garros but were intercepted by artillery barges at Mandeville point. This shows that current conventional defenses are sufficient for the current threat level. But Edric's judgment is correct—if the Dark Eldar launch a probe from the direction of the network, the scale will be much larger than just two raiders."

He paused for a moment. "The construction plans for the two Retribution-class battleships in the Garros fleet do not yet have a slipway."

Phyllis straightened up from the edge of the control panel. "I knew this situation before I went to Turenstein. The current construction projects include two Goliath-class battlecruisers, the second and third Mars-class battlecruisers, and the fourth and fifth light cruisers. The light cruisers are almost finished, and the slipways will be vacated, but even if they are, the schedule is full."

She reached out and swiped on the control panel. A schedule was displayed on the wall: "The Space Marine Chapters have orders for fifteen strike cruisers, and the White Scar Chapter has one combat barge based on the Nemesis-class. These orders are already pending—each comes with a deposit confirmation from the Forge Temple. If we continue to prioritize the Nemesis-class, these orders will have to wait at least another three years before they can be put into service. Moreover, the Garros Network Fleet doesn't urgently need battleships right now. The real need is to fill the gap in small and medium-sized ships. The construction of the Eternal Bastion's gunboat is already accelerating, provided that the supply of raw materials is keeping up."

She looked at Marcus, her voice low but clear: "The Astartes orders cannot be postponed. Garros is still building its reputation, and the shipbuilding industry's reputation is built on timely delivery. If the first batch of orders is delayed, subsequent orders will not come."

The optical lens of Onris lit up briefly after Phyllis finished speaking.

"Lord Phyllis's analysis is based on one premise—the physical limitations of the network. But the data from the Third Reconnaissance Team points to a different conclusion." His voice remained flat. "The reconnaissance stormbirds have ventured deeper along the main channel and discovered that the cross-sectional diameter expands exponentially after extending for millions of kilometers. Based on structural calculations, the deeper sections are large enough to accommodate capital ship formations passing at combat intervals."

He paused for a moment. "If this assessment is correct, the current expansion strategy of the Galos Network Fleet, which focuses on small and medium-sized ships, will face the cost of being forced to rebuild its main fleet. At that point, the shortage will not only be in the quantity of small and medium-sized ships."

A moment of silence fell over the platform. Marcus stood to the side of the projection table, Phyllis leaned against the edge of the control panel, and Onris stood diagonally opposite. Cohen sat at the edge of the main seat, remaining motionless throughout. His right hand rested on the railing, gazing at the schedule on the wall. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, but everyone on the platform fell silent at the same moment.

"The first phase of the space elevator has been completed. The second phase of construction has begun. The dock planning for the geostationary orbit port has been expanded to fifty locations."

The silence on the platform seemed to be weighed down by that number. Onris's optical lens focused on Cohen's face, then zoomed out again. Phyllis's fingertip lingered on the edge of the control panel for a moment—about a second—before retracting. Marcus remained silent.

"Fifty," Cohen repeated. "The technical priest of the Industrial Council believes that the shipbuilding cycle can be slowed down, and the shipyards and slipways can be expanded to five thousand first. Supporting production capacity can gradually catch up. What everyone is vying for is no longer the slipways, but the supporting resources. This is more conducive to the development of Garros."

Phyllis's voice followed: "This way, all orders can be fulfilled. Light cruisers and similar ship types can be shipped from small to medium-sized slipways, without having to take up time on large slipways. Once fifty dry docks are in place, all those queued orders will have slipways available. Other casting worlds take decades or even centuries, but even if Garros is a little slower in catching up, it can deliver everything within ten years. By then, the advantage will still be with Garros. There will be no need to push trade orders out anymore."

She glanced at Cohen. "Building ships is the first step. The Network needs to generate benefits as soon as possible to support Garros's own development. If there's only investment without output, the Network fleet will become another unit that needs to be supported."

The meetings at the Garros fleet command began to delve into increasingly detailed discussions. The staff officers started debating specific troop deployments. Cohen did not continue listening. He stepped down from the platform and walked out along the walkway surrounding the bridge.

Phyllis followed.

A low railing runs along the edge of the bridge walkway, beyond which lies an array of screens covering the entire dome wall. At this moment, the screens display real-time images of the outside world outside the Wangshu—the Wangshu is currently orbiting on the night side of Garros, with hundreds of domes below emitting warm yellow light that merges into a dense patch of light in the darkness. The night sky of Garros's main star is fragmented by these patches of light into a slowly rotating grid composed of countless settlements.

Cohen walked slowly. Phyllis walked to his left, her pace almost precise and even. The cool light from the bridge corridor seeped through the gaps between the wall screens, casting a thin shadow on her pale face. The blue-white halo deep in her irises occasionally flashed when she turned her head, then was swallowed by the shadows.

The two walked for a while.

"The deputy gatekeeper of Turenstein is not responding," Phyllis spoke first, her voice calm. "Seven activations, parameters fine-tuned each time, and no response. There's no network channel in Turenstein."

"As expected."

They walked a little further. The light spots on the wall screen switched from the dome complex of Garros to the structural image of Wangshu itself, its adamantine skeleton gleaming dimly in the afterglow of the stars.

"At least four families of wandering merchants from the port have been inquiring about Garros' shipbuilding capacity in the last three months."

"What did you reply?"

"The schedule is full. That's a fact," Phyllis said. "But one of them asked about something else: whether Garros was building a non-standard, converted battleship."

Cohen's finger paused on the railing. "White Scar's combat barges haven't even started construction yet."

"I neither confirmed nor denied it. It's normal for Gallo's shipbuilding speed and technological leaps to attract attention."

.

The two continued walking. On the screen on the side wall of the corridor, a rotating network node diagram flashed briefly—it was the image that Onris had just presented at the meeting, which the duty officer had switched back to the live monitoring screen. Cohen did not slow his pace, but he turned his head, his gaze lingering on the edge of the diagram for less than a second.

Phyllis noticed. She didn't turn around, but asked, "The reason that alarmed Terra was because of Garros's involvement in the web?"

Cohen turned his gaze back to the end of the corridor ahead. A cold light spread a uniform grayish-white across the adamantite wall, extending step by step from his feet to the edge of his vision. He spoke as he reached the next section of the railing, his voice low, as if addressed to the wall at the end of the corridor: "Gallos will not fall. The Great Sage Enpu will still be here after I'm gone."

Phyllis's pace remained steady. But her gaze shifted from ahead to the slowly rotating patch of light on the dome outside the railing. After a few more steps, she spoke, her voice softer than before: "Mm."

Then she loosened the railing. Cohen didn't look at her. The two continued walking down the corridor. The airtight door at the end slid open automatically as they approached, and cold light poured out from behind it, drawing their shadows together and then lengthening them before being cut off by the door frame.