Chapter 14: Human Relations
Soon after, Dos found the local PDF Commander-in-Chief.
Dos extended his hand courteously. "I am the Regimental Commissar of the 946th, Dos. How should I address you?"
"I am Blackmoor. I am truly glad you arrived so promptly." Blackmoor shook Dos's hand.
Dos glanced at the Underhive, on the verge of ruin, and was speechless. This person's skill at lying with his eyes open wasn't inferior to his own, and he called this "timely"?
Noticing Dos's odd stare, Blackmoor's face flushed slightly, and that was all.
"May I ask, how many of you remain?" Dos scanned the PDF soldiers perched behind the sandbags, their faith clearly shot.
Blackmoor stepped forward, blocking Dos's view. "About thirty-odd thousand. Not much heavy firepower."
Dos's mental calculations began. Thirty thousand, a bit more than expected, but the results were disheartening. To avoid wronging good people, Dos asked, "Could I see where the wounded are being placed?"
"Um..." Blackmoor couldn't answer.
Now, Dos understood. There were no wounded at all? Just slacking off?
Seeing Dos's composure slip, Blackmoor hurriedly explained, "The enemy are all Khorne fanatics, fearless in battle, and the Underhive terrain is complex. I feared heavy casualties, so I haven't launched a large-scale offensive."
In plain terms, you've never taken the initiative, have you? Dos retorted sarcastically, "Then you truly are a commander who loves his troops. Under your leadership, the soldiers must be very safe, right?"
Blackmoor's composure was cracking. You'd think Dos could speak; his compliments were painfully sharp. You'd think he couldn't speak, yet two simple sentences shattered the defense.
Dos didn't linger on him. Instead, he went to find those PDF soldiers idly loafing.
When the soldier saw Dos's commissar uniform, he already knew what to say even before the interrogation began.
"Hey, no worries. How many thrones do you earn a month? Why risk your lives?" Dos patted the soldier's shoulder. "I'll pass a message to your commander later." He whispered into the soldier's ear.
"Um, Commissar, what does that mean?" The soldier scratched his head, not grasping Dos's meaning.
"Never mind. You'll find out later."
...
"0361, lend me a horse. Or any transport that can get me quickly to the nearby hive cities." Dos still needed 0361's help.
"What are you after?" 0361 didn't refuse outright; there was a chance!
Dos quickly said, "Borrow troops."
After a pause, 0361 replied, "You have two days."
After agreeing, Dos didn't waste time, mounting the warhorse 0361 lent him. Once on the horse, Dos hesitated. "Your horse won't bite, will it?"
0361 " (￣_￣) "
Just as they were about to depart, Dos asked, "Can you send two cavalry with me?"
0361 "...."
Dos swore he did it to uphold the 946th's reputation, not because he feared being ambushed halfway. In the end, two Death Riders set out with Dos.
No wonder Dos asked if the horse would bite. It wasn't a traditional horse but a genetically engineered bio-beast. In size, they were as massive as bulls. Their limbs ended in goat-like hooves, as hard as iron, needing no horseshoes. Their stamina rivaled the hardworking donkeys of production teams, a true thousand-mile steed.
Most crucially, they ate meat. A single fang could scare a neighboring child to tears. On top of that, they were temperamental. Only the Krieg folk dared ride such mounts.
That afternoon, Dos arrived at the nearest Hive City No. 3. Riding his mount, he barreled into the Upper Hive, two Death Riders close behind. Their hunting lances made the discerning PDF soldiers scramble aside.
"Company Sergeant, is it really okay to let them in like this?" a young PDF soldier asked his superior.
"What are you talking about? Where did you see someone break in? Isn't that the Astra Militarum Regiment Commissar conducting a surprise inspection? I'm just cooperating quietly, business as usual." The Company Commander shouted, pointing at a distant soldier.
"Hey! No flies allowed in there, understand?!"
The soldier looked a bit stunned, but the soldier who asked the first question seemed to understand something and whispered praise to the Company Commander. "No wonder you're a Company Commander."
"What are you saying?" the Company Commander replied solemnly. "It's because the superiors appreciate my ability; this is clearly their merit!"
"Impressive..."
...
Dos used a few pieces of melta to secure a connection and met the most influential noble scion in this hive city. Among the Imperium's underworld, melta was extremely scarce and valuable.
"Greetings. I am the Political Commissar of the Krieg 946th Regiment. I have business to discuss with you." Dos said this in a decidedly firm tone.
"How daring! You've met my Young Master, and you still won't dismount?" the butler objected. Though this man had given him a fortune, offending the Young noble would make his future difficult.
Dos was startled. He had forgotten that nobles expected you to dismount.
Seeing Dos freeze, the noble waved the butler away. "I am Mongot White. May I ask what business you have with me?"
Dos thought for a moment, gave a military salute, and said, "To conspire with you on a grand undertaking." He glanced at the butler afterward.
Mongot returned the salute, then signaled the butler to step back. "Please, speak."
He had formed a preliminary judgment of Dos's demeanor. The man didn't dismount, yet offered a salute. He didn't flatter; he kept his back straight and his legs rigid.
Dos felt relieved to have passed the first test. He dared not dismount; 0361 had helped hold his horse before, and he didn't trust the cavalry. If he ever needed this Young Master's aid, falling off would be humiliating.
Fortunately, the Young Noble was easygoing. He truly couldn't keep a straight face while mounted. Afraid of falling, he kept his legs tense, and they were a bit sore now.
Dos's little calculations rattled loudly, unaware that Mongot had already labeled him "Unafraid of Authority," "Respectful of Duty," and "Loyal Beyond Words."
Dos deliberately paused for a few seconds. "How do you view the current Imperium?"
Mongot raised an eyebrow. "Prosperous?" He wasn't entirely sure. He had only heard his father say that lost worlds were gradually being reclaimed and that agricultural output was rising again, which seemed like progress.
Dos shook his head. "The Imperium now resembles a weary, frantic beast."
The answer greatly surprised Mongot. Based on earlier observations, he didn't think Dos was merely spouting nonsense. He asked, "What makes you so pessimistic?"
"Ten thousand years ago, the God Emperor ascended the Golden Throne. Anyone with eyes can see it was only a way to delay the death of his mortal body..."
Mongot nodded slightly. This matched the views of most young nobles, so he let Dos continue.
"Nine holy Primarchs, nine fallen Great Daemons. The gene-Primarchs have vanished, or even died for various reasons. Compared to the Great Crusade, we're utterly destitute!" Dos shook his head.
"Moreover, the threat of Greenskins has never faded. The Tyranids are devouring Imperial territories. The Tau and Necrons are showing their fangs. And those Gods beyond the Immatreium that plague the Imperium, including you, have never ceased their influence." After speaking, Dos stared quietly at Mongot.
Mongot's eyes flickered briefly, then dimmed. "These things my father never told me... What should I do? What will become of the Imperium?"
Hearing Mongot's reaction, Dos knew it was done.
"Do not lose heart, Mr. Mongot. Since the 30th Millennium, the Imperium has been in crisis. But now? It's the 41st Millennium! The Imperium has weathered countless millennia of storms and still stands unshaken! All because of people like you—"
[End of Chapter]