All around him, a slightly crowded tide of people ran up and down. In fact, in any random direction Sith looked, among the workers were many who were still half-grown, their faces bearing traces of youth.
And in this chaotic environment, the humidity Sith found unbearable was, in many corners, being actively collected. Workers had placed small instruments made from various materials near them, condensing the steam into 'clean' water.
Then, during brief lulls in their work, these workers would drink from their carried supply of filthy water with practiced ease, even a hint of 'contentment', before carefully storing the clean water. They planned to exchange it after their shift for more of the starch made entirely from chemical byproducts for their families.
Because even this life-shortening chemical starch was far from sufficient for the workers, let alone for their hungry, crying children at home.
Sith scanned his surroundings, breathing in the dense mix of sweat and the acrid sting of various strange chemical gases. He was finally getting a slight glimpse into the daily working environment of Imperial laborers.
And such a working environment wasn't even the more arduous Lower Hive, but the mid-levels!
*BANG!*
A massive hammer struck a thick armor plate.
Sparks flew in all directions. Watching a high-temperature spark instantly melt a hole in his uniform, while the workers around him, covered in scars and disabilities, paid it no mind, Sith finally let out a sigh. He focused his steps and headed for the upper levels of the factory.
It was just as humid and stifling, though perhaps the ventilation was slightly better here, and without the crush of workers from below, the air had actually returned to being odorless.
In front of a ventilation duct, one could even catch a faint hint of coolness from the outside.
At Sith's destination, Yuwa—this noble deemed unworthy of evacuation by the Imperium—stood before a massive set of ship blueprints, staring dumbfounded at Ana's design.
"My lord... are you certain?"
"This is a voidship. And it only needs the armor plates welded on?"
Yuwa's eyes were wide, filled with the numbness of her common sense being assaulted.
Across from her, Ana's expression was also rather strange. But faced with the requirements and timeline Sith had given, Ana didn't know how to respond.
It was Sith, who had appeared behind them, who spoke directly:
"Yes. Welding."
"Just make sure it's airtight."
At Sith's sudden appearance, both Yuwa and Ana quickly turned to look.
Ana offered a slight bow, while Yuwa performed a deep, formal one.
Sith waved a hand, indicating they needn't bother. He walked directly to the blueprints, examining the gradually taking shape sword-class frigate.
Ana began explaining from the side:
"Fortunately, the hull was only hit by point-defense caliber weapons. While the damage looks severe, the core structure remains intact."
"We only need to patch the breaches and replace some peripheral components of the engines to barely get all the ship's systems operational."
"However, its defensive capabilities, propulsion, and even firepower will only be at 40 to 60 percent of their full potential."
Sith looked over the plans as he listened to Ana. Only after Yuwa, behind him, confirmed the use of welding and relayed the orders did he seize the pause after Ana finished speaking to interject quickly:
"My lord, if we are only using welding, then you can begin your journey now and prepare to board."
Sith turned back, somewhat surprised. Seeing Yuwa's face was not joking, the long-held tension in his brow finally eased a little.
Then, looking down at the still-bustling, crowded factory beneath his feet, he inwardly Make complaintsed the Imperium's inefficient production methods and its astonishing, yet crude, output.
A few hours later, a massive convoy carrying various supplies, ammunition, and personnel made its way toward the warship.
And as the crew, directly converted from repair workers, stood before the ship awaiting their new captain...
Looking at this dilapidated, patchwork vessel, with many of its viewports simply welded shut—a substandard warship through and through—not only Yuwa, but also Ana, Bruno, and even Davi Luo beside her turned to Sith with skeptical stares.
"Are you sure this thing can fly?"
Faced with the unspoken question in everyone's eyes, Sith also felt a twinge of awkwardness. He lowered his gaze slightly, daring only to respond in his heart:
"Waaagh! says..."
"...this is fine."
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