Warhammer: In the Name of Ashes

Calvin continued to move forward while listening to the file in his headphones.

After listening to the first part of the warning, he thought about it and clicked on the first part after the preface. I continued to listen.

The program in the headset converted the file into speech, reciting a diary-like text in a mechanical, emotionless voice:

"Document 1...

Time: Imperial Calendar 0704.650.M39

The tragic attack and defense of Mandela's No. 5 Orbital Fortress seemed like it happened yesterday, and the details of this battle are still vivid in my mind.

The hoarse roars of my comrades as they advanced towards the center still seemed to echo in my ears. I still clearly remember the last moment of dragging the old regiment leader with a broken leg and holding a cluster grenade towards the heavy logging gun at the defense node.

"Live! You have to fucking live! You owe us all! You have to live enough for us!" My eyes passed behind the overwhelming red tracer bullets on the opposite side. This is when I saw the old regiment leader firing the gun. The last words before the bomb.

His black and red face smeared with blood and gun smoke is like imprinted on my mind, and I can't forget it for a moment.

When I woke up, the smell of blood in my mouth and the smell of fragrance from the clean bedding in the cabin made me a little confused, but when I woke up, the clock in the cabin where I lived told me that 15 years had passed.

The half-bottle of promethium starch refined wine left on the table is a good thing. The scars on my body that have begun to ache tell me that the humidity regulator of the habitation module is definitely broken again. Well, it’s time to drink again.

I spent a total of 5 empty laser gun batteries for it, and this is my last inventory.

What to do when you finish drinking? I never thought that my comrades-in-arms were just as poor anyway, and they had exchanged almost everything they could exchange for.

Gun? The gun is long gone.

Anyway, stragglers like us, who don’t even have an organization, have no fight and can only spend our days hanging out on navy ships.

In the eyes of the nobles at the Ministry of Military Affairs, we were probably the same as the exhaust gas produced by indigestion after accidentally eating expired cheese the night before. Except that it smelled a little bit, it was probably as transparent as the air.

When I was still thinking about whether I should eat tonight, or if I didn't eat tonight, how many meals of the starch bars I could receive could be exchanged for another bottle of wine.

A stooped and dirty figure rushed in. Old Bailey, head of the ship's maintenance team responsible for repairs to the ship's internal damage control.

Speaking of which, his other small part-time status may be more respectable on this ship with more than 200,000 permanent personnel. He is the owner of one of the few underground bars on the ship.

Well, this old guy is still my creditor, Angele’s creditor, or in other words, the creditor of all the star soldiers who are inconvenient.

This old guy is so stupid. He treats us astral bosses who have no future today. On the one hand, he is as calculating as Grandet in Gutera's novels, but on the other hand, he dares to let us go into debt!

Your Majesty, the Emperor dares to put us in debt for a group of coppers like us who can't even scrape together a single gold coin! Hahahahahaha...ahem...

This question bothered me for a long time. Until one time, I didn’t know whether it was because I drank too much or was injured. I vaguely remembered that after I asked him this question, he answered like this:

"As long as you have enough money, I don't plan to leave the ship to live in retirement anyway. As for you guys, it's good to have a debt on your back. At least you have one more reason to live, right? Whenever you feel like you can't live anymore, , isn’t it nice to think that there is still Old Bailey on board, still waiting bitterly for you to come back?”

Of course, if I asked him again after I sobered up, he would definitely deny this.

It looked like Father Bailey had been running for a long time. He was panting heavily and shouted to me:

"Hailan! Hailan! Your trouble has happened! Ah! Your good thing has arrived!" The old man's footsteps were very agile. Just by listening to his tone, it seems that his usual business is not only reporting good news, but also reporting troubles. It is also indispensable...

"What the hell...what? Old man, can't you think about it before speaking? Is it a disaster or a happy event? Forget it, there is no happy event for me. Let me see if I have any valuable things. Give them to me. You, please arrange a place for me to hide..."

Having just sobered up, I didn’t have much thought, so I just packed my things in a panic.

There's nothing I can't lose except my "guy stuff." For now, I can only hope that I won't do anything serious, and I can come back after a while to avoid the limelight.

By the way, what on earth did I commit? Forget it, I have been drunk so many times, how can I know which noble person I bumped into...

Father Bailey finally breathed "It's not a disaster! It's not a disaster! It's a good thing! The resettlement order for your regiment has come down! Get dressed quickly and follow me! The adults from the Military Command Department are waiting for you in the restaurant! "

In this way, I was taken all the way to the public restaurant. In front of a group of comrades who had arrived earlier, I met the young and heroic adult.

Presumably because of his subsequent status, this gentleman did not become impatient because of waiting. He even said to me kindly:

"Hey, is this the hero of Mandela's bloody battle? His name is... his name is Hailan, right? I have admired him for a long time..."

After seeing the officer's iconic black and blue uniform, I recalled memories of meeting them in the past.

This group of people is almost invisible to you on the battlefield. After all, you can't expect these proud men of noble birth, who can serve in departments directly under the Military Command Department after joining the army, to fight with us idiots.

So when you occasionally see them on the battlefield, apart from the small probability of notifications of promotions and awards, there is a high probability that they are ordered to come and enforce battlefield discipline for the troops who lost the battle...

I trembled subconsciously and answered this big shot in the most cautious tone of my life:

"We only participated in the offensive and defensive battle of Fortress No. 5 in the outer orbit. It was the Emperor's Angels who took back the Forge World. Hmm... what is it called? Yes, the Red Scorpion Chapter. This is their credit, along with It doesn’t matter to us!”

The big shot in black and blue uniforms wasn't offended by my rebuttal. He even patted my shirt kindly. Well, it would have been better if he hadn't wiped his military pants twice with his retracted hand.

In short, this great man said to me with a smile on his face: "Glory to the Emperor to the Emperor, and glory to mortals to mortals! You will have your own glory!"

His whole spirit seemed to be proud of the content of his words, but his condescending smile made me wonder whether the starting point of his pride was the first half of the sentence or the second half...

After adjusting his face, he took out a document from the briefcase in the hand of his entourage, opened it, looked at us, then lowered his head and read loudly:

"This is your order! The Branden 52nd Regiment of the Imperial Defense Forces has achieved remarkable results in the Battle of Mandela and is a role model for its colleagues. Hereby commends: Colonel Hyland, the former commander of the regiment, is promoted to Major General of the Imperial Defense Forces. ...High Marshal Paul Lucas of the Imperial Defense Force’s Taiping Star Territory Military Affairs Department.”

After reading this, the adult took out another document, opened it and continued to read:

"The letter of appointment from the Imperial Ministry of Internal Affairs is that the 52nd Heavy Siege Regiment of the former Branden fought in the Battle of Mandela with outstanding achievements and suffered many casualties. However, the Emperor is merciful and aware of this situation. The souls of the deceased are here to rest in peace and comfort. The remaining army is thick with chestnuts. I hereby appoint Major General Hailan of the Imperial Defense Force as the Governor of the Taiping Sector, Venn Sector, and SATA Sector. I hope that you will continue to work hard here and serve the country loyally, and the country will surely I will live up to you..."

I don't know when the appointment letter was finished. The adults in the Military Command seemed busy with official duties and didn't care about my rudeness.

He thrust these two paper documents, which represented the empire's final attitude towards our regiment, and the accompanying documents into my hands, and left.

And I am still in a sluggish state. It has been 15 years. Has the resettlement you have been waiting for for 15 years finally come? After the war, no one cared about us, and we could only shamelessly hang out on the Astral Navy battle barge that carried us to the battlefield. The 15-year wandering career ended like this?

I don't know how to deal with these two belated documents. Just these two pieces of paper? There were more than 6,500 people in the regiment, 6,344 were killed, and I only had 156 left. Was it just for these two pieces of paper?

I don't understand, but no one seems to care whether I understand or not...

Imperial calendar 0705650.M39,

To us who are still wandering but have been settled.

Hyland. "