Chapter 16: Defense of Mawson Ride, Part 2
Taylor counted the number of his crew members three or four times. No one was dead, and there were no extra people.
Sometimes, his unlucky guys might go out once and come back with two more arms or bring back strange things.
Worse ones just disappear.
Frankly, for Taylor, this is good, quite good.
He didn't want to lose his brothers, especially these brothers who had lived and died with him.
The bloody smell brought by the war was still lingering in the air, like a rope around his neck. As long as Taylor kicked the chair under his feet, he would be strangled to death by the thing called war.
Taylor believes his luck has indeed provided him with many victories and honors, but that kind of thing will eventually run out.
Living on the battlefield is enough to shorten a person's life. If his ancestors really protected him, then those old people would probably have their heads smashed every time they went to the battlefield.
Fortunately, the brothers this time were all lucky.
Based on Taylor's personal experience.
The war in the Imperial Guard is like a hurdle. If you pass it, you become a veteran. If you don't, you are probably dead on the battlefield.
This is the Imperial Guard, performing superhuman feats in mortal bodies, just to be able to breathe, that is an honor among honors.
Taylor walked up and gave each brother a hug because they almost died, and this kind of corny feeling was more from Taylor's experience.
The aliens don't care whether you are a soldier of the Empire's honor, they only know how to tear apart the enemy's head...
Taylor realized that they needed new weapons and equipment, at least better than the current ones, but each one would need approval from the Ministry of Munitions and would take several solar weeks (a solar week ranged from 4 to 11 years) to arrive.
There was even a case where someone requested air defense support, but the Military Affairs Department sent the leg of a Warhound Titan.
You can never count on efficiency from an empire.
This famous saying can be said to be a classic handed down from generation to generation.
"Then we can't rely on our superiors, so we can only use our own initiative," Taylor asked the others. "We need a vehicle for our squad. I'm actually looking for a Salamander armored reconnaissance vehicle. It can hear the battlefield situation via radio, is fast and maneuverable, and has decent firepower."
"But that thing can only be obtained by officers at the field level. We can't count on it. Besides, it's too small to accommodate so many people in our team."
"So, actually, I want a Chimera armored vehicle as our new home, but there are only about 20 of them in the entire infantry regiment, so it's not our turn..."
"Boss," the Lightling girl replied, "we're short of that stuff, but the artillery regiment has it. Most of the cannons are pulled with that stuff. What's this called? Baggage?"
Corporal Katie said, "But we can't get it. It belongs to another regiment."
Machine Gunner Roland thought for a moment. "Let's try another approach. Many Chimera armored vehicles were damaged during the war. Perhaps we could use those parts to build a unique one for ourselves."
"The name Chimera comes from its versatile, replaceable modular armor and adaptable chassis. The Warcraft series vehicles all use Chimera as their chassis."
"For example, vehicles like the Hydra anti-aircraft vehicle and the Lion-tailed Scorpion missile vehicle."
Taylor said in surprise. "What? There's such a thing? But we're just amateurs after all. Can we get it moving? We only have a week to rest, and I don't want to waste it."
Roland, the two-meter-tall, bold, and cautious hunk, patted his chest. "Boss, we're all machinists in the Nest. We've even repaired the nobles' hovercrafts."
Taylor sighed as he realized for the first time how talented his team was.
"Okay, let's do it. I'll take the blame if anyone comes up against me. Anyway, I'm thick-skinned and a hero of the empire, so they won't dare to offend me!" As the saying goes, a dead pig is not afraid of boiling water.
Thus, the entertainment life of Class 15 began.
Roland was in charge of the design drawings and overall command, while Miss Lightling was in charge of getting the raw materials, which was almost her best job, and unified command was maintained by Corporal Katie.
The division of labor was clear and there were no technical obstacles. In a short time, about a week, the two carriages were traveling back and forth in the empire's waste recycling yard.
Because they were members of the heroic team, Miss Lightling and a few movers had almost no obstacles. Every time they went to the recycling yard, they took away some discarded weapons and equipment and brought back a few good engines or original parts.
On the other hand, Roland and Katie, who were full of hands-on ability and initiative, put those things together.
Their technology is much better than that of the Mechanicus. Those damn cyborgs only know how to kowtow to their mechanical masters, and have no idea that many problems can be solved by just tightening the screws.
The only problem is that they don't have professional lathes and environment.
Even so, a week later, the behemoth belonging to the 15th team appeared. It was a guy a circle larger than the normal Chimera, and its body was covered with rivets and welding marks.
It looked like a Frenstein, and indeed it was, a product of dead machine spirits spliced together, but now it was a new member of Class 15.
Taylor circled it several times.
Its exterior is reinforced with adamantium plates because the Lightling girl found a part of the armored version from the Lemanus tank, and two internal combustion twin engines are used inside.
With enough promethium, it can run as fast as the wind.
An internal communication radio for the team was also installed (using tape and a hole for extending the antenna). In the cab, Taylor could send messages to the top of the empire anytime and anywhere.
In the middle of the vehicle body is the gunner's position and observation window, and the heavy bomb is stuck on it, becoming the core weapon.
Observation holes were opened on all four sides. Although this somewhat reduced the armor capability, it allowed infantry inside the vehicle to shoot at the enemy to relieve defensive pressure.
So far, it is still the normal level of the Imperial Guard's armored vehicles, that is, the armor and engine have been strengthened. If there is no displeasure of the machine spirit, then this behemoth can actually be used for combat.
But it was only when Taylor walked inside that he saw the spacious interior and the seats made of soft cushions (most of which were torn mattresses).
There was also a small makeshift field kitchen (a pot and a promethium stove) that could be rolled out for cooking in non-wartime.
What makes Taylor most satisfied is that it is an honor that belongs to all members of Team 15.
Although after seeing this, Tychus might die from a malignant cardiovascular disease caused by violating the rules.
The Mechanicus had to recite the binary holy words dozens of times when seeing this.
But Taylor didn't mind. He said excitedly, "Start it and see! Start it and see!"
Roland gave a thumbs-up and pressed the accelerator. When the two multi-promethium combustion engines emitted a buzzing sound and thick smoke, Taylor shouted happily for the first time.
"That's so waaaagh!"
The next moment, the soldiers of Squad 15 all distanced themselves from Taylor cautiously.
They had never heard that greenskins could be contagious, but in this gloomy universe, with 40k years of human civilization, anything is possible...