Chapter 140: My Unseen Holand—!
In Hades' temporary office, countless papers and folders cramd the bookshelves, while two or three white lamps diligently provided illumination.
At the simple eting table, little Herila was holding a literacy book, gnawing away at it—one that her younger brother, Had, had picked for her.
A massive, pitch-black scythe was placed beside the office desk.
Hades sat at his desk, tapping the table restlessly as he reviewed the statistics.
These politicians are not all that bad.
To his surprise, most of these fallen nobles had simply lost in political struggles. Rather than executing them, their rivals clearly found it far more satisfying to watch them toil in the dirt on so foreign planet.
Of course, so had actually committed cris. Hades glanced over the records—neglect of duty, embezzlent and bribery, failure to pay taxes on ti.
Might as well keep them around for now—there was literally no one else at the mont.
They could at least teach the children so basic literacy, but there was no way he’d rely on these people for moral guidance.
He needed to assign a few Grave Wardens to keep an eye on them.
As for the Death Guard itself, he’d have to recruit people from elsewhere.
But how exactly to go about recruiting... The re thought gave Hades a headache.
He leaned back in his chair in frustration, covering his face with the docunts.
Reading about Warhamr in the past, he had thought it was all about war. Now that he was in Warhamr, he realized it was all about logistics.
The Legion’s Astartes were just a small fraction of the whole. Behind them was a vast support network of mortal workers and the Adeptus chanicus.
Hades suddenly understood the importance of Roboute Guilliman.
The Imperium would absolutely collapse without him.
Maybe he should try to befriend the Ultramarines and see if he could pick up so logistic techniques from them.
Then again... Right now, Roboute Guilliman’s reputation among his brothers wasn’t exactly stellar.
A cunning politician. A man who wages war with an abacus.
Hmm... It’s not like he could just walk up to the Ultramarines and start asking for help. They’d probably be baffled.
No, Hades. You need to be self-sufficient.
He suddenly sat up straight in his chair and began drafting a recruitnt decree for administrative personnel.
As he wrote, he felt like crying.
Why the hell didn’t he just get reincarnated on Macragge? Instead, he was stuck in this poisonous, hellish wasteland of Barbarus.
Those lucky bastards who woke up as Guilliman’s sons or Sanguinius’ heirs in their new lives—what did they do in their past lives, save Terra itself?!
If he were on Macragge, he’d be stationed on so comfortable world among the 500 Worlds of Ultramar, taking it easy.
He’d have a superior officer who understood basic human decency, who communicated clearly, and who actually planned for the future of his subordinates.
Why the hell did he end up on Barbarus?!
Macragge—his unseen holand—!
Of course, complaints aside, Hades wasn’t about to paint his armor blue and run off joyfully. He still had work to do.
For now, the progress of the Death Guard’s various projects was looking good.
The first phase of infrastructure developnt in the Barbarus orbital ring was nearing completion, and the people of Barbarus could soon move in.
On the planet itself, scattered farmland had been consolidated and reorganized, with massive agricultural machines from the Adeptus chanicus roaring across the fields.
Only the necessary workforce remained in human settlents to maintain agricultural production.
anwhile, far away in Galaspar, through the tireless efforts of Garro, Vorx, and other Death Guards, the place had finally been cleaned up.
As a hive world system with solid planetary defenses, Galaspar still held imnse potential, despite Mortarion having outright obliterated its original productivity.
Compared to the Barbarus system, Galaspar was filthy rich.
A massive population, assembly lines that just needed so repairs to be operational again, and two already-mined industrial planets…
And then there was Barbarus.
Hah.
To be honest, Barbarus is only notable because it produced a Primarch like Mortarion. Otherwise, the planet itself has absolutely nothing—it's completely barren and impoverished.
anwhile, the environntal reconstruction of Galaspar is underway. Massive ships hover over the polluted plains, beginning the process of rebuilding the local ecosystem.
Once the plains’ biosphere is restored, the Death Guard will be able to establish additional structures there. Hades plans to set up military academies in the region.
As for the original hive cities, following discussions between Hades, Mortarion, and the chanicum Magos, reconstruction has begun.
The population is being relocated to the upper and mid-hive levels, while the underhive is being converted into nurous industrial zones.
Galaspar’s industrial production has already started looking for potential trade partners in nearby star systems, preparing for future comrcial exchanges.
Of course, most of the affairs in the Galaspar system are managed by Mortarion, Garro, and Vorx, while Hades is primarily responsible for Barbarus' developnt and negotiations with the chanicum.
Even though Mortarion genuinely despises administrative work, that doesn’t an he can’t do it. In the harsh reality of governance, everyone gets dragged into bureaucracy.
Hades once again strengthened his resolve to establish good relations with the Ultramarines.
Too bad they couldn’t just hand over so personnel to help the Death Guard out.
A transmission interrupted Hades' writing.
He looked up—oh, a ssage from the chanicum.
Magos Biologis Druid thodically inford him that he could now dispatch so personnel to oversee the transport of Blackstone.
Usually, there weren’t any issues with shipping this kind of material. Besides, the route from Barbarus to Graia was clear and safe.
The chanicum likely just wanted the Death Guard to send so representatives to monitor the Blackstone’s collection and transport, reassuring the Astartes overseeing the operation.
Hades blinked.
Hmm...
He’d send a few veterans, along with so promising new recruits for field experience.
These recruits had been training for a while now, and with Barbarus still quite busy, most veterans already had their hands full.
It was just a routine trip. With chanicum escorts, there shouldn’t be any issues.
After a mont’s thought, Hades opened his comms and prepared to call in the veterans and a handful of new blood.
< >
Graia-106 Mining World
[The Magos has issued a new directive. Team 3 is to abandon its current excavation and instead focus on mining the Blackstone deposits in the hills.]
A Tech-Priest relayed the order to his colleague. His deep red robe draped over his chanical fra, the emblem of a half-rising sun with white cogs emblazoned on the fabric.
Unlike the crimson of Mars, this deeper shade of red and the sun-gear sigil were distinctive marks of Graia.
His colleague responded with a burst of binary cant, a stream of electronic wisdom.
[What is the required mineral yield?]
[The Magos rely stated: ‘As much as possible.’ Complete extraction is acceptable.]
An unusual order.
The Tech-Priest hesitated montarily before pulling up recent geological activity records.
[Perhaps we can plant explosives at these points and leverage seismic activity to expose the deeper Blackstone deposits.]
Blackstone, unlike most ores encountered by the Tech-Priests, required no purification. The deposits here were of exceptionally high purity—ready for imdiate use.
However, previous surveys had indicated that the majority of the deposits lay deep underground.
Large-scale excavation would be cumberso at the mont, as heavy mining equipnt wasn’t deployed in this sector.
A more efficient solution would be to blast away the upper two layers of rock.
[Good idea.]
His colleague approved of the plan enthusiastically, and the team imdiately began deploying servitors to place the charges.
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