The bridge of the Retribution.
Miranda, who was sitting in the captain's seat, witnessed through the holographic screen on the right hand side that Thunder III successfully penetrated the outer wall of the enemy's flagship using the rays of the melta cannon and entered it unimpeded.
Confirm that the gang jump is successful.
She immediately said: "Change the course and notify the pilots of all squadrons to stay away from the enemy flagship with our ship and focus on dealing with the remaining two cockroaches."
"yes!"
Outside the ship.
I saw the Punishment changing direction under the control of the crew, and passed the flagship without slowing down at all.
Three carrier-based aircraft squadrons that completed the escort mission accompanied the Punishment and relied on the firepower network provided by the close-in defense artillery to fight with the pursuing enemy aircraft.
A Viking fighter plane.
In the cockpit, there was the faint roar of the engine and the steady rhythmic breathing of the pilot.
Outside the window is the silent and cold universe, as well as the dazzling "silent" fierce battle with cannon balls and ballistic trajectories of different colors.
The pilot was wearing a fully airtight pressure suit and a holographic helmet that covered his face. He held the control stick in his right hand, allowing him and Viking to quickly shuttle among the enemy aircraft.
"Beep-! Beep-!"
A sharp alarm suddenly sounded, reminding him that he had been locked by an enemy plane, and dense small artillery regiments flashed past both sides of the wing from behind.
See this.
The pilot's right hand swung violently and then pulled back.
The fuselage then rolled to the right and then decelerated, causing several enemy aircraft with inferior performance to the Vikings to rush straight into the pilot's field of vision.
Also entered the Viking's cannon range.
The moment the helmet helped complete the locking, the pilot pulled the red trigger without any hesitation, causing the Gauss cannon to spit out a blue-light fire snake.
boom-! boom-!
The 25mm spike bombs directly tore up those enemy planes.
Get rid of the threat.
The pilot immediately pressed the control column forward, causing his Viking to pass under the Retribution to avoid a collision with his own mothership.
When he adjusted the angle of the fuselage again, he could directly see the entire space where the battle was taking place.
I saw that the Punishment had broken out of the encirclement of three enemy ships, and was still changing its course, preparing to attack the nearest "cockroach".
After all, assisting Thutmose to complete gang-hopping does not mean that the battle is over, but that it has just begun...
———————
…
The interior of the enemy's flagship.
A large cabin with light purple walls, like a warehouse, contains many ground armor units with turret structures that resemble fat beetles.
Here, there are also a large number of "aliens" of different races.
The largest number is the "little fat man" race who are less than one meter tall, walk with a swaying posture, and all of them carry huge "oxygen" tanks on their backs and wear breathing masks.
This group of little fat people gathered together in small groups, sometimes shouting "Ah~!" and "Wow~!", feeling startled.
When other races pass by them and smell their body odor, or the "oxygen" leaking from their masks, they can't help but stay away as quickly as possible.
It seems that only these little fat guys breathe special gases, so they need to be equipped with special breathing tools.
And it may taste very strong.
Judging from their short, fat, timid, funny, slow and smelly characteristics, it is more appropriate to call the fat people "Gulu people".
Secondly, they are thinner and more rickety than the golden-armored commander's race. Their average height is about 1.8 meters, and they are overall like a jackal-like race.
These jackal things also viciously push and hit the Grunts, and emit unpleasant, high-pitched "Gah!" laughter.
But the Gurus did not dare to resist and could only endure it silently.
Apart from these two races, the largest group is a group of "beasts".
They are tall, burly, and extremely strong, with an average height of more than two meters and six. Their lush hair covers gray skin, similar to apes on Earth.
In line with the extremely ugly facial appearance for human aesthetics, it is most appropriate to call them "Grimalhana Beasts".
Jiralhanae wear thick and rough armor, and the weapons they hold are simple and crude, such as giant hammers, giant axes, and large-caliber live ammunition wider than human wrists.
Finally, there are the "elites" who are rare in number, wear gorgeous armor, and are equipped with the most sophisticated weapons. They are of the same race as the fleet commander.
"Ouch! Ouch!"
At this time, a blue-armored elite shouted angrily at the two Jiralhanae beasts, as if reprimanding or warning them.
"..."
The Jiralhanae, who seemed to be stronger than the elites, were just like the Grunts who were bullied. They dared to be angry but dared not speak out, and silently accepted the reprimand.
After the elite finished cursing, turned and walked away.
"Bah!" A Jiralhanae spat in the direction away from it.
"Roar!"
The other one even caught the jackal who was pointing at them and making fun of them secretly.
! !
With the Jiralhanae holding its neck, the gnoll struggled wildly and begged for mercy in a language only they could understand.
But with a "click", the Jiralhanae still broke the Gnoll's neck, and then casually tossed the limp body as if throwing away garbage.
"thump!"
"Ah~!"
"Yeah~!"
The corpse hit the center of several Grunts, scaring the group of little fat men into screaming and running around with their hands raised.
It seems.
The alien forces declaring war on the Retribution and Harvest are an "alliance" that brings together different races.
And there are clear hierarchical divisions internally.
The most numerous but weak Grunts should be ranked at the lowest level, while the few elites belong to the command class.
The most important point is the way the various races get along with each other, especially the Jiralhanae's dissatisfied attitude towards the elite. It is not difficult to guess that there are serious hidden dangers within this "alliance".
If the management does not control it, there is a high probability that a civil war will break out and the "alliance" will fall apart.
Just when there was ostracism and secret confrontation in the warehouse...
"Wha~---!"
The extremely high-temperature melt rays emitted orange-red light and burned through the bulkhead diagonally above the warehouse, directly "vaporizing" the nearby jackals, grunts, and Jiralhanae.
The moment the melt ray disappears.
"Boom~----!"
It was the Thunder III with a hard fuselage, which went on a rampage and used an alternative method of forced landing to crush three enemy beetle-shaped armored units.
"Hu~----!"
As the Thunder III entered the warehouse, it also caused a difference in internal and external air pressure, and the "howling wind" tried to suck the gas in the warehouse out of the ship.
! ! !
This also includes the various races of the "Alliance" who have not understood the current situation.
A large number of guys like Grunts and Jackals were sucked into the cold universe by the strong suction force before they had time to react.
The Jiralhanae and the Elite clung to the gaps in the bulkheads and decks and held on.
Fortunately, the flagship isolated the outermost damaged area and lowered several gates, allowing the air pressure in the warehouse to stabilize.
The Grunts and Jackals who were still in the air fell to the deck one after another, temporarily saving their lives.
All the races in the "Alliance" were confused by the sudden changes just now, and they also realized that the Thunder III parked in the center of the warehouse was the culprit of everything just now.
So they stood up again, holding messy weapons, and gradually surrounded Thunder III.
"Ouch!"
At this time, a red-armored elite signaled to several Jiralhanae beasts and asked them to inspect Thunder III at close range.
"..."
No matter how unhappy they were, the Jiralhanae beasts still nodded and accepted orders.
But before they could get closer, the Thunder III's nose door suddenly opened, and then...
"嘡! 嘡! 嘡!" The blaster fired loudly.
"Pfft! Pfft!"
The sound of standard bolts exploding and tearing fragile flesh into pieces resounded throughout the warehouse.
"Die! Die!"
"Go to hell, you ugly alien!"
"For father! For Magnus!"
At the same time, the unique metallic war cry of the Astartes resounded throughout the warehouse.
The moment the Thunder III opened the nose hatch, the Thutmose reservists who had been waiting for a long time quickly rushed out of the cabin and surrounded the soldiers of all races in the "Alliance".
Thirty Thutmose were divided into five teams, a standard six-man tactical team.
Two of the teams each have two heavy-duty bolters equipped with 1.0cal caliber.
For example, the Grunts, who are only one meter tall, are completely unable to withstand 0.75cal and 1.0cal caliber bolt bullets. If they are hit or hit by a shot, their entire bodies will explode into pieces.
The same goes for gnolls.
However, these disgusting guys wear a metal device on their left wrist that can deploy blue and green translucent energy shields to help them withstand the bombardment of standard bolts.
But it was only once.
A bolter shell shattered the shield, and the force was so strong that it broke the Jackal's left arm and sent it flying.
Before he landed, the Jackal, who was still in mid-air, was hit by another standard bolt.
The result was also the body exploding.
Light purple blood and pieces of flesh flew everywhere, splashing onto similar bodies nearby.
! ! !
Faced with a brutal attack they had never seen before, the gnolls were the first race to collapse.
Even if their energy shields were intact, they screamed and ran out of the warehouse, not knowing that exposing their backs to the Astartes was the most stupid thing they had ever done in their lives.
In less than a breath, Gabriel and his brothers took the lead in slaughtering the gnolls.
On the other hand, the Grunts, the lowest class and weakest, have maintained basic morale.
They gathered around the Jiralhanae and the Elites, especially the Elites, holding small "U"-shaped pistols and shooting tiny green light cannons at Thutmose.
It seems that as long as there is a backbone, the Gurus will still have the courage to continue fighting.
Jiralhanae and Elite...
"Roar!"
The Jiralhanae, who were taller than ordinary Astartes, roared like wild beasts, and some even wanted to wield giant hammers and axes to engage in close combat with Thutmose.
But it is flesh and blood after all.
No matter how strong your body is, it will still end with two more bolters.
The deck was littered with fragments of their limbs, and dark red blood was flowing. The heavy armor had no effect at all.
On the contrary, it is equipped with sophisticated weapons that can continuously fire blue light cannons, and gorgeous armor that can generate energy shields. Its movement and reaction speed are far beyond those of the elites of all races in the "Alliance", and it successfully survived Thutmose's round of fire.
At least two bolters are needed to break the blue-armored elite's shield.
The only red-armored elite had to withstand the bombardment of six explosive arrows before turning into a dregs of flesh flowing with dark purple blood.
Fifteen seconds passed.
The gunfire stopped.
Except for thirty Thutmose reserves, there was only a bloody mess left in the warehouse, and hundreds of "Alliance" soldiers were slaughtered.
"Boom, boom."
A Thutmose walked out of the formation and came to a Jiralhanae struggling to crawl with only its upper body left. He raised his left foot and stepped down.
"Pfft!" With a sound, the Jiralhanae's body was trampled and exploded, plasma splashed everywhere, and he said coldly:
"Chow suey."
The evaluation of "chop suey" deserves to belong to these hundreds of "Alliance" soldiers.
Their only achievements before death were to leave a few high-temperature burn marks on Thutmose's ceramic armor and to consume a little explosive charge.
"Don't take it lightly." At this time, Gabriel reminded the brothers: "We don't know each other. This is just the tip of the iceberg of the enemy's flagship, so we all stay vigilant."
After saying the reminder.
Gabriel continued to order: "Now divide into two groups. While trying to eliminate the aliens as much as possible, find their commanders and behead or capture them to reverse the situation where the Punishment is at a disadvantage."
Hear the words.
The brothers nodded in response, divided into two groups, and quickly opened the warehouse using the automatic doors that were also opened by sensors, leaving behind the old Thunderbolt III.
The pilots who were part of Umbrella's official establishment chose to close the nose door, contact the Punishment, report the current status, and remain on standby.
Even though Gabriel did not leave a tactical team to guard him, the pilot was not afraid. He was even prepared to manually overload the Thunder III's small nuclear fusion engine when necessary.
After all, there are only two results for successfully jumping into a gang.
Either eliminate all enemies and complete the beheading.
Either the operation failed and all the Astartes who jumped into the gang were killed.
If this is the last result, then the pilots flying the Thunder series will directly perish together with the enemy ships.
No matter what the outcome is, it will cause heavy damage to the enemy, and it will not be a loss.
Moreover, looking at the current situation alone, it seems that there is no need for this pilot to contribute his precious life to mankind.
at this time.
In a wide corridor that seems to connect various areas...
"Dang! Dang!"
"ah!!"
"Ouch!!"
An extremely wonderful "symphony" is being performed.
The unique sound of gunfire was intertwined with the fear, anger and unwilling roars of all ethnic groups.
I saw Gabriel leading fourteen brothers, actually "walking around" in the corridor inside the enemy ship.
Even if the enemy is relying on a bunker, as soon as he peeks his head out, he will be accurately hit in the head by a bolter shell.
Among the soldiers of various races in the "Alliance", only the relatively large number of Jiralhanae beasts and the sparse but well-equipped elites would pose some threat to Gabriel and others.
Within a moment, the corridor was cleared.
In other words, the "Alliance" soldiers visible to the naked eye were eliminated.
Before Gabriel and the others could move on, the automatic door at the end suddenly opened, allowing a group of "invisible" guys to rush into the corridor.
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