The Brown-Robed Prince—or rather, now it should be called the Remilia.
It was a strike cruiser, the type commonly used to support an Astartes company formation.
Although it was nothing special in void warfare, its strength lay in providing ample fire support for Astartes ground forces. Of course, if you wanted to use it for boarding actions, that was a different story entirely.
In short, in the hands of a capable commander, it could pull off all kinds of fancy maneuvers. In the hands of an average one, it would still deliver a steady, respectable battlefield performance.
And now that this warship belonged to Bruce, the first thing he did after coming aboard was inspect the first ship he had ever acquired in his Warhammer life.
It might have had a previous owner, but who cared? Curze had said she'd had the Mechanicum refurbish it from top to bottom. That made it new.
Congratulations to Mr. Bruce on acquiring his new ride: the Remilia.
Sadly, this joy was something Bruce could only savor by himself. There was no one he could really share it with. If only he could stream this live across worlds—then he'd really put on a show.
That said, the Remilia did have a problem. Since it had been captured from an enemy, some of its equipment was not to Bruce's liking.
For example, Shavok had specifically commissioned an extra-heavy prison block for death-row inmates. Its presence had thickened the ship's armor but also taken up space that could otherwise have gone to weapon systems.
A defensive warship...
How to put it?
At first Bruce thought it was far too cowardly, almost embarrassingly so. But once he saw the ship's overall appearance, now painted in a color scheme reminiscent of his "young lady," he immediately decided there was nothing wrong with it at all.
He could just think of it as Remilia using a "head-down crouch defense" stance. Perfectly reasonable.
"And you are...?" Bruce entered the command center and found that many of the decorations had been changed. Portraits of Remilia hung everywhere.
One glance was enough to tell him this was Sevatar's handiwork. Or perhaps that troublemaker Meiling, the Legion's unofficial contractor, had been up to something again.
"Welcome aboard, Acting Commander."
An Astartes officer with red-painted hands and rank insignia on his armor knelt before Bruce in salute.
The rest of the officers and crew in the command center did the same. Without exception, each of them had red paint on their hands, and some even wore explosive collars around their necks.
On Nostramo, painted hands marked one as guilty. It was a badge of shame.
So these men were presumably Shavok's former subordinates, now reassigned to Bruce's Remilia as a punitive combat force.
It was both the primarch's mercy and a final chance.
Even if they had in fact seized control of the ship during the battle itself.
"What's your name?" Bruce asked the officer curiously.
"My name is Alfred. A guilty man," the officer replied.
"I've heard about what happened to you."
Bruce looked at the group with interest, then asked, "Why did you choose to rise against Shavok at the time?"
When Krulu had boarded this vessel, half the Astartes aboard had already died in internal fighting, and the loyalists had been losing. If reinforcements had not arrived in time, even these men would have been wiped out.
So the question was: what had made them resist?
Was it survival? Loyalty to Curze? Or something else?
"Because Shavok was a complete fool," Alfred answered plainly.
"Then can I take it that you rebelled to save your own lives? Following an idiot into rebellion meant certain death, but rebelling against an idiot at least offered a chance to live," Bruce said.
"You may interpret it that way. I have no objection. You are the master here now. We serve you, and we serve the primarch," Alfred replied respectfully.
Once you had already been branded guilty, there was no point saying too much. Anything more would only make you look ridiculous.
"Good. Though this is our first meeting, I hope your talk of loyalty truly comes from the heart."
Bruce walked to the commander's chair in the center of the command deck. It was his seat, the symbol of supreme authority aboard this warship.
After sitting down, he took a deep breath and asked again, "How many people are aboard my Remilia now?"
"Two hundred Astartes, like myself, awaiting redemption. In addition, fifty thousand mortal crew to maintain the ship, and one hundred prison supervisory staff," Alfred answered.
"Prison supervisory staff?" Bruce had never heard such an odd personnel category before.
"Yes. In the past, when we captured prisoners, we confined them in the prison sector. These personnel would extract valuable information through interrogation, or attempt to turn them."
"They are professionals. They come from Nostramo. They are the finest jailers—and the vilest criminals."
One of Shavok's favorite pastimes in life had been randomly seizing people, then torturing and interrogating them. That was why his flagship had an entire zone dedicated to prison facilities.
"..."
Hearing about this special unit arrangement, Bruce immediately had some very bad thoughts.
Was this really a proper strike cruiser? The only reason it didn't feel like something even more questionable was because almost everyone aboard was male. Otherwise he might have mistaken it for some sort of bizarre prison ship.
"If you have no need of them, you may execute them at any time," Alfred offered, noticing Bruce's hesitation and thoughtfulness.
"They can stay for now. Since they chose loyalty to the primarch over treachery, they deserve a chance. I will personally test their worth."
"And if they fail to satisfy me, then death will be the best end for them."
"Yes." Alfred was not surprised by this answer.
Bruce was the new master. Naturally, he would reshape the warship in drastic ways. The fact that personnel unrelated to combat might be allowed to cling to life a little longer was already a tremendous mercy.
"Can the current personnel fully operate the Remilia?" Bruce asked again.
"Certainly. But we still lack a Legion Librarian, Legion Techmarine, Legion Apothecary, captain, chief technical officer, Astropath, quartermaster, legal officer, and most importantly, we need more combat personnel."
"Two hundred Astartes will not be enough for you—or for the expedition to come."
"Write that down, and report these requirements to Captain Sevatar," Bruce ordered the Black Guard standing behind him.
"Yes!"
The Black Guard immediately acknowledged the order.
"Among those categories, do you have any suitable candidates in mind, Alfred?" Bruce asked.
"My apologies. I do not. I slew the disloyal, even those with talent," Alfred replied.
"You're a Librarian, aren't you?"
"Yes..."
"Then do you have the confidence to serve as my Chief Librarian-Sage?"
Bruce had just directly entrusted him with a major post.
"I am a man seeking redemption. I fear I..."
"You can swear loyalty to me. Can you do that, Alfred?"
Bruce cut off the formal refusal immediately. What time was this? A time of severe manpower shortages, that's what!
What was the point of all these rules? If you had managed to organize a resistance and crush Shavok's faction, then that proved you were loyal.
Bruce would keep an eye on someone like that, certainly—but he would still use him.
"Yes, Acting Commander. In the primarch's name, I swear to give my life in loyal service to you!"
Alfred pledged himself without hesitation.
He understood this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Compared to being thrown into a penal assault unit and fighting until death, serving a promising acting commander was clearly the better path.
If he performed well, he could eventually wash away the stain of his guilt.
"Excellent. I look forward to your performance, my Librarian."
Bruce rose from his seat, walked over to Alfred, and bent down to help him to his feet. At the same time, he smiled and warned him:
"Don't disappoint me. Otherwise, mere red paint will be the least of your problems."
"Yes..." Alfred replied, looking at the young man before him with a trace of fear.
As a Librarian with formidable psychic talent, Alfred could clearly sense a powerful psychic force within Bruce—something so strange and overwhelming that he could not put it into words.
No wonder he was considered the greatest figure in the Legion beneath the primarch herself.
Beep, beep, beep—
At that moment, Bruce's communicator sounded. He immediately let go of Alfred and answered.
"Recruit, I received your request for reinforcements," Sevatar's voice came through. "But the Legion doesn't have much in the way of high-quality manpower right now. For a while, you'll probably have to figure out your own way to replenish your ranks."
"Well, however much we can get is better than nothing..." Bruce replied helplessly.
In any case, the true main force of this expedition would be Krulu's company. He was only going along to contribute where he could, so he had never expected to fully replenish his ranks all at once.
"But I can provide you with an excellent Apothecary. From then on, gene-seed cultivation and neophyte development will be in your hands. Will that do?" Sevatar continued.
"Hm? How excellent?"
"The finest Apothecary in the Legion. The sort even the primarch would be reluctant to part with."
"That's fantastic!" Bruce instantly perked up.
Yes! With that, my ship can start developing on its own! Once I've got an Apothecary, isn't that basically the start of a proper gacha system for raising new troops?
"When you have time, come directly to the Nightfall. The reinforcements and equipment have all been prepared."
"Yes! Thank you, Captain Sevatar!"
"Mm."
With that, Sevatar ended the communication.
Bruce was overjoyed. Then he raised his voice and issued the first official order aboard this warship:
"All hands! Set course for the Nightfall! We're going to receive supplies!"
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 115)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( 126 )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter108)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter82)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter144)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 70
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 99
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 95
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass 99
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 92
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 47
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 44
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player 43
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 26
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 32
Uma Musume: From Beginner 26
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