The Thousand Sons were extremely short of Techmarines.
The Thousand Sons Legion had only just escaped the shadow of the Flesh Change and had only been reborn from the ashes for a few years.
Those Thousand Sons warriors dispatched to the Mechanicum on Mars to learn mechanical knowledge and how to become Techmarines had yet to return.
Now they could only seek help from Perturabo; the Iron Warriors under his command were not lacking Techmarines at all.
Although the number of Techmarines among the Iron Warriors was far less than that of the Imperial Fists, it was still among the top in all legions.
Levi gritted his teeth, an extremely conflicted expression appearing on his face.
He had just poked Perturabo’s most painful scar; turning around to beg him now was tantamount to throwing himself onto the muzzle of a gun.
But if he didn’t go, over two million people would truly die on this planet that was about to shatter.
He had no desire to be a savior, but with over two million lives hanging by a thread, it was impossible for him to give up while he still had strength to spare.
If he truly gave up, he would suspect that without Tzeentch personally coming down to bewitch him, he would still fall to Chaos because he could not bear the guilt.
Levi thought that one day, when he dared to issue an Exterminatus order alone, only then would he not lose his composure due to the weight of human lives.
“Phosis T’kar, coordinate with Captain Maat, who is currently covering the personnel evacuation, and bring all the Imperial citizens of the entire hive city here.”
After instructing Phosis T’kar, Levi finally made up his mind and went to find Perturabo to seek help.
Half an hour later, Levi found Perturabo on the loading platform of Warehouse 3.
He was standing in front of a pile of adamantium ingots, wordlessly watching the Iron Warriors load cargo, his back taut like a fully drawn bow.
Seeing Levi walk to his side, the hand Perturabo used to grip the forgebreaker instantly tightened.
“Didn’t I tell you to get lost?” he said casually, his voice bone-chillingly cold.
Levi took a deep breath, suppressed all the emotions in his heart, and cut straight to the chase.
“I need the Iron Warriors’ Techmarines.
That Golden Age colony ship can hold over two million people.
As long as the life support systems are tuned, everyone can be rescued.
But the Thousand Sons don’t have enough Techmarines.”
Perturabo’s gaze shot straight at Levi, his face bearing undisguised mockery.
“So what if they’re tuned?
It’s just a pile of scrap metal with no power.
Could it be you plan to have your psykers chant spells and hoist that roughly fifty-million-ton hunk of iron into the sky?”
“Yes.” Levi nodded, his tone calm.
“We have the Mandala Spirit-Gathering Array.
“You’re fucking insane!”
Perturabo abruptly roared, his forgebreaker hammer smashing heavily onto the ground, smashing out a deep crater.
“Using psychic energy to push a warship?
Do you treat the laws of physics as bullshit?!
When the time comes and the thrust isn’t enough, the ship falls from mid-air, everyone on board gets smashed into meat paste, and half the planet gets smashed through along with it!”
“Moreover, didn’t you say there was Warp pollution?
Aren’t you afraid of another outbreak?”
Levi looked at him, his eyes incomparably firm.
“I know the risk is extremely great, but it’s better than doing nothing and watching over two million people be blown to pieces along with the planet.
Trying it, at least there’s still hope.”
Perturabo stared at him fixedly, his chest heaving violently.
He wanted to kick this madman out, wanted to immediately finish loading cargo and then just leave, wanted this psyker who poked his scar to taste the bitterness of failure.
But from the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a sister and brother in the fleeing crowd in the distance.
The sister in ragged clothes hugged the younger brother in her arms tightly, deeply afraid he would be snatched away by the ferocious refugees beside them.
He thought of Calliphone on Olympia, that sister who always protected him.
That defensive line cast of steel in his heart finally cracked open a seam.
He hated Levi, hated the Thousand Sons, hated all those who could possess everything so lightly.
But he hated those who watched innocent people die even more.
After a full minute passed, Perturabo fiercely spat and roared into his vox: “All personnel of the 7th Engineering Company!
Put down the work in your hands immediately and go to the underground mineshaft!
Repair that damned ship.”
“Lord Primarch?
What about the resources?”
The hesitant voice of the engineering company captain came from the vox.
“Repair the ship first!” Perturabo’s voice carried a trace of hoarseness.
“If you do not repair all the systems within twenty hours, I will weld you all to the ship’s hull and let you fly with it!”
“I am not helping you.
I just do not want to see over two million people die as unjustly as my sons did back then.
Also, if this is screwed up, I will be the first to kill you.”
Looking at him, Levi felt a wave of bitterness in his heart.
He finally understood Perturabo’s fury, and finally understood this Lord of Iron, the burning hot heart hidden beneath the cold outer shell.
A Lord of Iron who forever used harshness as armor, yet tightly hid his softest spot.
“Thank you,” Levi said earnestly.
“Cut the crap.”
Perturabo turned his head away and continued to stare at the loading platform.
Only, no one saw that his taut expression finally relaxed slightly.
For the next twelve hours, the entire underground cavern turned into a busy battlefield.
Countless civilians dragged their luggage and carried their children, boarding the ship in an orderly manner under the guidance of Thousand Sons and Iron Warriors.
Although Perturabo said nothing, he quietly dispatched half a Siege Tyrant company over to maintain order.
They used forgebreaker hammers and melta bombs to smash open collapsed mineshaft passages, helping the elderly and children board the warship.
The Iron Warriors of the 7th Engineering Company displayed even more astonishing efficiency.
Like a group of precise machines, they drilled into every corner of the warship, replacing damaged wiring, tuning the life support systems, and repairing the gravity stabilizers.
What originally would have taken three days to complete, they got entirely done in just twelve hours.
What shocked Levi even more was that they actually had the spare capacity to divide their forces.
Using multi-meltas and heavy excavators, they forcibly chiseled out a large hole tens of kilometers in diameter in the roof of the underground cavern, so that this warship could ascend intact into the sky.
“It’s done.” The engineering captain took off his power armor helmet, wiped a handful of sweat from his face, and said to Levi, “The life support systems can hold out for seventy-two hours, the docking bays have been repaired, and the gravity stabilizers have been tuned to minimum power.
We reinforced the edges of the excavated hole with alloy plates; it can withstand ordinary energy impacts.”
Levi bowed deeply to this Iron Warrior covered in oil and sweat.
He subsequently glanced at the data terminal on his wrist bracer, then turned his head to instruct the Thousand Sons warriors beside him:
“There are five hours left before the planet disintegrates.
All Thousand Sons warriors assemble immediately and prepare to deploy the array.”
Two thousand Thousand Sons warriors rapidly formed up on the open ground beneath the warship, standing in a massive, complex ring according to the positions of the Mandala Spirit-Gathering Array.
Thaniel_a_goodchild.
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