The Astartes Family's Notebook

When asked about Katz, the veterans all gave him a look that said, "You're still too young."

"Kaz, different chapters are not the same."

“There are also differences between companies.”

"Maintenance of the Terminator Armor is very troublesome."

At this point, the veterans noticed that their company commander was staring at them, so they quickly changed the subject.

"Work hard and perform well. When you are promoted to lieutenant, I will make a suggestion for you at the company meeting to help you get the right to wear the Terminator armor."

"Yes, I will vote in favor."

"Swain, you too."

They patted each other on the shoulder, and the veterans ran off, leaving only Kaz deep in thought and Swain beaming with excitement.

Chapter 32 Reminiscing about the Past

For an empire, there is no difference between talent and manpower; the former is used to extract juice, while the latter is used as firewood.

-------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------

Judge Odach invited Madasich three times, but he did not come, so he came himself.

The bow maintenance area of ​​the Victory Balance is now being prepared for the deployment of armored forces in preparation for a large-scale landing operation. Warning signs such as "Please be careful when reversing" are heard everywhere. The Inquisitor walks on the sidewalk marked with bright yellow lines, gaining a deeper understanding of the Astartes Chapter once again.

Stereotypes have become more severe.

The Imperial Military Affairs Department, the Imperial Navy, and the Astartes Legion—like three legs of a crippled toad for ten thousand years—have together supported the main body of the Empire's military, yet they have also been locked in a love-hate relationship.

Everyone sees everyone else as a potential traitor.

Don't be misled by the stereotype that Astartes will betray you; quite a few Legion and naval ships have defected to Chaos.

The fundamental fact of the Milky Way is that no one in the universe is separate from others, and the waves of the highest heaven will wash away everyone equally.

Therefore, the Inquisitors are different. Throne Agents have a clearer understanding than other Imperial civil servants. They not only have equal suspicion of the Astral Army, the Imperial Navy, and the Astartes, but they are also convinced that all other Inquisitors besides themselves are yet to be exposed traitors.

In the imagination of ordinary people, the Inquisitors' faction, under luxurious decor, drink expensive liquor that costs as much as a rhinoceros troop carrier, eat natural meat produced in the Garden World, eat as many eggs as they want, and even take away the leftovers in their pockets, elegantly discussing who to label as a traitor tomorrow and whose house to raid the day after.

Fun fact: Chickens in Holy Terra are extinct, but the Empire has popularized aseptic, assembly-line egg cultivation across the five star systems.

Eggs represent cohesion and fighting power. For the millions of soldiers of the empire, eggs are the driving force behind their enlistment.

But most judges don't like to eat eggs.

In the human empire, there are basically only two ways to become an Inquisitor.

One type is where your parents die at the start of the game; the other is where you have good parents at the start.

Don't get too excited if you start in an orphanage. Being an orphan is just the basic requirement to enter the Imperial Heir Academy. In the next ten years or so, you must prove yourself to be one in ten thousand and become one of the top five in the academy with tens of thousands of students before you can be selected by the Imperial Court and have your file transferred to become an apprentice judge.

Don't laugh too loudly, little kid, even if you're a toilet paper kid. Your handsome father and beautiful mother, your planetary governor grandfather and incredibly wealthy grandmother can give you a head start, but they might not be there to see you live to become a full-fledged judge.

Don't be fooled by the words "Throne Agent" and think that there's nothing to be proud of in being a low-ranking officer in the Imperial Guard.

The problem is that the Supreme Instructor of the Tribunal also criticizes people like Lu Bing the most, yet the Empire has always been more abstract than during the Wu Zhou period.

Whether it's direct recruitment by recent college graduates or targeted training programs where each student is assigned a specific position, the young masters and ladies and the orphaned warriors can't escape one thing.

He survived his apprenticeship.

A formal judge can take on apprentices at the Loyalty Academy because of a lack of talent, or take on apprentices to repay a favor, or simply refuse to take on apprentices because he finds it too troublesome.

This is the discretionary power granted to the judges by the Empire.

It's alright if you encounter this situation. There's still some bond between the apprentice and the master. If you have the ability and a strong destiny, you'll eventually make it through.

What I fear most is being forced to take on apprentices by the court even though I don't want to.

That's terrifying.

In principle, a judge can refuse to accept a disciple.

The problem is that the principles are in the hands of the court.

When faced with these kinds of assigned tasks, it always ends with someone losing their life.

Apprentices who couldn't find a supervisor to submit their graduation thesis became close friends, apprentices and supervisors became close friends, or supervisors led their apprentices to become close friends with their graduation thesis.

After all, for an apprentice judge to obtain the Rose Knot, which represents the judge's qualifications and authority, all they need to do is complete a task with their teacher to file the documents at the Terra Court headquarters, and then obtain a certificate of completion of their internship from their mentor. After that, they can wait for the Holy Terra to give them the Rose Knot.

Simple, right? Thinking of the suffering he endured before passing the civil service exam, Odachi walked with his hands behind his back, flicking the hem of his trench coat.

It's so simple.

All three conditions are potential pitfalls.

The report to the Terra Tribunal headquarters for filing—this alone would be the death knell for a judge's apprentice.

Unlike the Terra Archives, which is an important functional agency of the Holy Terran government, the Terra Archives' responsibility is to classify and preserve all intelligence files related to the Empire of Man.

The headquarters of the Inquisition, located in the southernmost part of Holy Terra, has an internal archive that is not open to the public. It is used to store records that are not suitable for public release, as well as confidential intelligence reported by the Inquisitors.

When Throne agents go out on missions, their work reports are usually archived in the Star Government's archives. Missions that need to be sent back to Holy Terra for archiving are considered lucky, even if they are extremely dangerous. In most cases, even the mentors themselves are not confident that they will survive.

Okay, I've overcome the first hurdle, but I'm still stuck here with the internship qualification certificate.

You barely survived a battlefield of apocalyptic scale, but then your mentor died. You can't get your internship certificate from a dead man. If both you and your mentor are alive, how can they not use such a useful apprentice to the fullest? Guess if your mentor will issue you an internship certificate.

Alright, alright, fine. Even if your mentor is a cold-faced but kind-hearted person who prepared an internship qualification certificate for each apprentice before he died, and you, who survived, found this internship qualification certificate under the protection of the holy God Emperor, then all you need to do is submit the certificate to His Excellency the Permanent Judge of the Star Sector and patiently wait for the Holy Terra to customize a rose knot just for you.

If your dead mentor happens to be a resident inquisitor in a sector, that's fine too; you can submit an application to the resident inquisitor in a neighboring sector.

In any case, compared to the efficiency of Holy Terra, the time spent crossing star sectors is negligible.

Unless you catch the eye of the bigwigs in the court, even if you're a true Terran man with both parents alive, don't expect to get your own rose knot within a hundred years.

Take Odachi, for example. He was a top student who graduated from the Third Loyalist Academy of Terra through a recent college recruitment program. His teacher was also a true Terran native with both parents alive.

And so, on his 227th birthday, Odachi's teacher received the most precious birthday gift of his life: a first-class rose knot issued by the Terra headquarters of the Inquisition.

Before that, when Odachi's teacher went out on missions, he used either a Level 3 Rose Knot (at the level of the Star Sector Government) or a Level 2 Authorized Rose Knot passed down from his master that had been rooted many times.

Why is this so?

Because this small thing, the rose knot, represents the authority of the Imperial Court and is an extension of the Emperor's will. It may look inconspicuous, but its technical sophistication is astonishing.

For example, a level 3 Rose Knot, a genuine Terra item, can bypass the authority of most planetary governors and directly shut down planetary shields.

All Imperial facilities at the sector level will have their doors open to the Inquisitor holding a rose knot.

It's even better than the Hunter License from Hunter x Hunter.

As he walked, his thoughts wandered, and Odachi marveled at how lucky he was. If his teacher hadn't been nearing the end of his life, he probably wouldn't have treated him with such sincerity.

With the merits within reach, the time required to obtain one's own authentic Terra Rose Knot will be greatly reduced.

Even the chaos and evil forces of the warp could not stop the young Inquisitor from making a name for himself.

Odachi desperately wanted to improve.

Chapter 33 The Astartes Family Meal

Man is made of iron, food is made of steel; you'll crave something if you miss a meal.

-------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------

The secret technique of Nine Dragons Pulling the Coffin is one of the very few supreme human skills that has been passed down from the ancient Terran period.

Back in the day, Mike O'Hearth, known as the King of Strength, used his unique secret formula to develop superhuman muscle strength, setting an immortal monument for future Astartes.

Therefore, Judge Odach could only politely decline Company Commander Motor Sich's invitation to eat and patiently wait for the Fourth Company Commander of the Desolate Wings to finish his meal.

The company doesn't allow the combat brothers to whisper to each other during meals, but who doesn't know how to chat in the corner of their eye? As long as there's a monitor, they can chat. How boring would it be to eat without chatting?

During my basic training, I knew nothing and could do nothing, and could only communicate timidly using Morse code and other similar methods.

After taking on many missions and learning a whole host of skills that you never know when you'll need, the seemingly peaceful canteen is actually a breeding ground for intense intellectual clashes that are quite fascinating.

Because it was an emergency meal before the mission, apart from the company commander taking off his Terminator armor to have the technical sergeant perform urgent maintenance, the other mess hall brothers were eating while wearing power armor and carrying explosive guns.

Therefore, those who wear arm guards with bird-shaped divination devices eat with one hand.

The ammunition display screen on the back of the bomb gun has been modified so that you can pick up a bowl and eat from it.

Some skilled combat comrades even modified the visors of their tactical helmets into polarized lenses, allowing them to directly receive images projected onto a retina projector from a specific angle, so they could watch movies while eating, much like eating while wearing a helmet.

Kaz is popular. He asked this question before: "Don't the technical sergeants care? Doesn't the Martian Mechanic Cult cause trouble?"

It's important to understand that, as a technical trust, the Mechanics are known for their domineering ways. If a technician at Astartes were to leave a screw two turns too loose during routine maintenance, it could be seen as disrespect to the god of machines, resulting in the entire equipment being denied warranty coverage.

Countless battle groups have suffered such injustices.

But the Wings of Desolation are different.

The warband, rooted in the Pacific Starfield for two thousand years, grew from a ship with a few people to a peak of three companies. The Wings of Desolation did countless dirty jobs for the Mechanicus and the Forgeworld.

If you have the right connections, modifying equipment without permission is no big deal. You can even get craftsmen or sages from the Cult of Mechanics to modify it for you.

Rules are never made so that those who make them will follow them. The chapter leader has a sage of the Cult of Mechanics stationed on Mars who is with the chapter for a long time. Not every chapter has this kind of treatment.

So, gentlemen of Astartes, it wasn't that the villain Odach deliberately stole your training secrets. Please don't use the canteen's LAN to create a chat room next time, okay? The Rose Festival can testify that it was the one that initiated the connection. I don't want to see it.

Because his teacher was a fundamentalist who advocated for the purity of humanity, Odachi did not make many modifications to his body except for the brain-computer interface. At least before officially taking over his teacher's mantle, it was not advisable to make too many modifications to his body.

The Human Empire is actually quite casual in its rigorous style, emphasizing a tough stance while maintaining a flexible approach.

For example, the most fundamental question is: What is a human being?

Those that look like humans are human.

What is a pure human being?

Humans whose skulls show no obvious abnormalities are considered pure humans.

Despite possessing advanced genetic modification technology and life-extending surgeries that could allow important figures to live to six hundred years old, the Human Empire dares not define humanity at the genetic level.

What if the test results show something wrong?

Moreover, strengthening the body, replacing prosthetics, replacing organs, modifying genes, and adding plugins are no big deal for humans.

When it comes to cyberpunk, you have to look to the Human Empire. Back in the Golden Age, our ancestors had already conquered the problem of cyberpsychosis. Even a random junk collector in the lower levels of the Hive has a higher tolerance for cybernetics than V-Shock.

So why don't the garbage collectors install prosthetic bodies? Is it because they don't like using them?

I can't afford it...

The Astartes diet in the Wasteland is customized, incorporating various minerals, including alloy powders, and macromolecular polymers with health benefits into the framework of basic energy meals.

Surely no one really thinks Space Marines are like those cheap, fifty-dollar cans of bros—you can just can them up and use them until you die.

Long-term exposure to the space environment would also reduce the bone density of Astartes, so using some alloy powder to strengthen the bones is reasonable.

While muscle fiber cells become thicker and stronger after high-intensity training, their activity decreases. So, taking some supplements isn't unreasonable.

The cost of training one Astartes warrior is equivalent to building an entire Astral Legion from scratch. This is not an exaggeration, and there is absolutely no embezzlement or extortion involved.

The Space Marines' formidable combat prowess is only the foundation laid by the nineteen genetic modification surgeries; the later chapter training is equally important.

While the Astartes monks were enthusiastically discussing fitness tips in the chat room, a guy with the username "Perfect Creature," with the help of "Strategist Commander," was fabricating a ghost story about the Nine Dragons Pulling a Coffin in Ancient Terra during the 2K era. Everyone was hooked and urging him to stop eating and hurry up and make up the story, saying that it was a good story that everyone would enjoy.

To be an Astartes, one must possess some talent; this story made Inquisitor Odach hungry.

Even though I know that the food Astartes eats as a nutritional supplement is practically poisonous to mortals, I really want to try it because these Space Marines are talking about it so enthusiastically in the chat room.

I should have gotten a pre-made stomach.

Data and text kept flashing across the judge's contact lenses, but Motor Sich paid no attention.

The Victory Balance's network defense uses the official Mars service, which has a very high security level. The Inquisitor's Rose Festival alone is not enough to fight against the Thinker Array in a battle of access control.

So let the judge investigate if he wants. The reason why the public network is a public network is that the content that cannot be made public is hidden.

Motor Sich was open and fearless. Although he didn't understand the scrutinizing yet slightly awe-inspiring gaze of Judge Odach, he didn't care.

Meanwhile, Odach was frantically trying to figure out who the fourth company commander, Motor Sich, was from the online name and the content of the conversation.

What a wonderful educational game! Who would have thought that the quiet real universe, where only the scraping sounds of metal spoons and bowls and the chewing of food can be heard, corresponds to the bustling cyberspace?

The field of electronics is amazing, isn't it?

Judge Odach had too much faith in his Rose Festival, while Company Commander Madsich had too much faith in his company members.