aircannonsinc Chapter 108 The Scavenger and its Mad Dog Neighbor
Chapter 108 The Scavenger and its Mad Dog Neighbor
Chapter 108 The Scavenger and its Mad Dog Neighbor (4k5 complete)
"BOOM—!!!"
On the desolate northern hemisphere plains of Zais, a deafening roar drowned out the engine's hum.
A heavy cannon shell with a caliber of 800 mm slammed into the side armor belt of the "Scavenger" landship.
The thick composite armor plate underwent violent deformation in an instant. Although the high-temperature metal jet did not penetrate the lining, its enormous kinetic energy was directly transmitted into the interior of the hull.
Inside the bridge, Reagan Lazarus was thrown half a foot off the ground by the shock before crashing heavily back into the command chair welded to the floor.
The surrounding red alarm lights were flashing wildly, and the shouts of the damage control team created chaos on the communication channel.
"Port side C-section armor damaged! Structural integrity reduced to 78%!"
"Track assembly number three is overheating; the drive shaft is about to break!"
"The enemy is using these parameters to calibrate their fire; the next volley is imminent!"
Reagan wiped the dust off his face, his bloodshot eyes fixed on the holographic radar.
In the image, two huge red dots are closely following the "Scavenger" at its rear, less than five kilometers away.
For land-based warships that are several kilometers long, five kilometers is the distance for close-range combat.
"Damn it, these mad dogs!"
Reagan cursed, his voice hoarse.
This is Zais, the most chaotic and savage wasteland in the Pagan Stars.
Here, there is only one rule for survival.
Get moving!
Stopping means death; small boats are eaten by big boats, and big boats are eaten by even bigger boats.
Unfortunately, Reagan's "Scavenger" was positioned in the lower middle of the food chain.
This ship is only 2.8 kilometers long, making it a junior member of Zais's land-based vessel family.
Moreover, it is extremely ugly.
It's really ugly.
Other land-based ships, such as the two chasing him, were at least wrecked Imperial starships that crashed thousands of years ago.
It's a genuine military-grade design with heavy adamantite armor. Even if you remove the engine and replace it with tracks, it still retains that aura of the stars and the sea.
But the "Scavenger" is different.
This is a monster pieced together entirely from industrial waste.
Its keel was welded from the booms of more than a dozen collapsed cranes, its armor plates were made by stacking layers of ceramic steel salvaged from countless ruins, and even its power system was forcibly driven by more than 800 diesel engines and gas turbines of different models connected in parallel.
It has no aesthetic appeal whatsoever, and no aerodynamic design whatsoever.
It's like a giant, moving, black-smoke-belching garbage mountain.
But to those in the know in Zais, the ship represents a miracle.
Because it is the only ship on this planet that was not built by digging up graves, but by a group of abandoned skilled workers and rebels who used their hands and rudimentary tools to create an industrial masterpiece from scratch.
This is precisely the foundation upon which Reagan was able to establish himself in this cruel world—technology.
Unfortunately, technology is sometimes not very effective in the face of sheer size and firepower.
"Captain! The 'Fuck Your Grandma' is accelerating; it's trying to ram our stern!"
The radar operator shouted in terror.
When Reagan heard the name, the muscles in his face twitched involuntarily.
Even in the face of death, he couldn't help but complain about this extremely idiotic and tasteless ship name!
The land-based ship chasing on the left was painted in bright colors, covered with all sorts of obscene graffiti and skulls, and its name was written in huge Commonwealth letters on its side—"Fuck Your Grandma".
The ship's captain was a complete madman. He was originally a famous gladiator who later killed his boss and stole a frigate that he converted into a land-based vessel.
These idiots not only want your resources, your territory, and your prisoners, but they also want to kill, destroy, and make noise!
Being sunk by a ship with such a name would be the greatest disgrace of Reagan's life, and he would be laughed at for ten thousand years after his death!
On the right is another, even more insidious, land-based warship—the Twilight.
The ship was entirely black and kept a low profile, but it was extremely ruthless.
Its captain is a cunning old fox who rarely shows himself, but when he does, he's a monster.
I don't know what got into these two companies today, but they actually joined forces to intercept the "Scavenger".
"Release smoke! Unleash full-power interference smoke!"
Reagan roared and swung the joystick sharply to the left.
"Open that damn exhaust valve completely! Burn all the waste oil!"
Although the "Scavenger" is ugly, it has a unique skill that no other ship has—it can produce thick black smoke that covers an area of more than ten kilometers.
Because the engine is too complex and has extremely low combustion efficiency, what was originally a flaw has now become a means of survival.
"boom--!!!"
As the command was given, hundreds of exhaust pipes at the rear of the ship simultaneously spewed out thick black smoke.
The black smoke contained a mixture of unburned fuel, metal dust, and special chemical interfering agents.
In an instant, the entire wasteland was swallowed by darkness.
The two land-based ships approaching from behind had their view obstructed, and their radar screens turned into static.
"Hard to right! Charge into the gravel pit ahead!"
Taking advantage of the moment when the enemy lost sight of him, Reagan controlled the massive ship to perform an extremely dangerous drift turn.
The massive tracks created blinding sparks as they rubbed against the ground, sending thousands of tons of gravel flying.
The Scavenger tilted violently, and everyone on the bridge was thrown against the wall.
But they succeeded.
They charged into the complex scree terrain, using the surrounding towering rock pillars to block the enemy's artillery fire.
"Whoosh—whoosh—"
Reagan, panting heavily, climbed back into the command chair.
I've shaken them off for now.
But he knew it was only temporary.
Those two mad dogs will definitely spread out to search, and they'll come back to bite again in less than half an hour.
Moreover, the "Scavenger" was in very bad condition.
The power system is overheating, the port side armor is about to collapse, and the ammunition stockpile is running low.
We need to find a place to rest or find someone to rely on.
Reagan opened up a strategic holographic map of Zais.
This map was also drawn by him bit by bit, and it is much more accurate than the junk circulating in the market.
But now, looking at this map, Reagan felt only deep despair.
Although the Zais is large, there is really not much space to accommodate his ship.
At the southern end of the map is a vast, black ocean.
The "Sea of No Light" is an ocean made up of liquid waste, and it's full of monstrosities.
In the Warhammer universe, colossus is the lifeblood of industry. The reason why Zais can support so many landships is because of this dark sea.
But that's a restricted area.
Because the most powerful super-warlord of Zais is entrenched there—Odin Fortress.
It was a super land-based ship converted from the wreckage of a battlecruiser, with a length of over twelve kilometers and an independent ecosystem and complete industrial chain.
Odin Fortress monopolized the mining rights of the Sea of No Light.
Any ship that approaches without permission will be instantly destroyed by their twelve light spear main cannons.
If Reagan dared to run that way, he'd probably be wiped out by Odin's patrol fleet before he even saw the sea.
What about in the middle?
In the center of the map is a large, intersecting urban ruin belt—[Kolumbik].
This area contains Zais's only trading district, where major powers have offices, and it is generally peaceful.
But just last week, two major warlords clashed there over a batch of newly unearthed artifacts from the Golden Age.
Kolumbek is a meat grinder right now, with constant gunfire; going in is suicide!
So—only the north remains.
Reagan turned his gaze to the northernmost point of the map.
There is an area marked in red, called [Horrisonburg].
Upon seeing this name, Reagan's brow furrowed sharply.
In Zais, Horisonburg is a legend, but also a well-worn ghost story.
It was an extremely well-preserved colonial city from the Golden Age, with a solid foundation, abundant energy, and an automated defense system.
Logically speaking, such a prime location should have been fiercely contested by various warlords long ago.
that's the truth.
About fifty years ago, Horisonburg was indeed the spice of Zais.
Every few years, a new warlord would declare its occupation of the area and set up a permanent base there.
They moved in happily, built city walls, factories, and even started farming.
Then, in less than a month...
That city will become a dead city again.
Nobody knows what happened.
When later explorers cautiously entered the city, they found only blood everywhere, clean cuts, and deserted streets.
All the residents disappeared overnight.
There were no corpses, no signs of battle; it was as if it had been swallowed up by some unseen ghost.
This happened once, and everyone thought it was an accident.
It happened twice, and everyone thought it was a coincidence.
After it happened more than ten times, everyone understood.
That place is fucking haunted!
Later everyone realized that it was an alien.
A native alien with stealth abilities and advanced biotechnology.
They transformed an unknown area in Fort Horison into their lair, and any humans who tried to set foot there became their prey.
From then on, Horisonburg became a forbidden area.
Everyone tacitly avoided the area, preferring to eat sand in the wasteland rather than go to that godforsaken place to die.
Even the "Fuck Your Grandma" ship didn't dare to get close to it.
but----
Reagan's finger stopped at the location of Fort Horison on the map.
The situation has changed.
Just three months ago.
The lights in Horisonburg were turned on again.
It wasn't the kind of campfire used by expedition teams, but rather vast stretches of industrial lighting.
On satellite images at night, it's as conspicuous as a louse on a bald man's head.
The light is still on.
Not only was it lit up, but a flag I'd never seen before was also erected there—the yellow and blue flag.
This means that a mysterious outside force has brazenly moved into that cursed city.
Three months have passed, and not only have they not all died, but they are also carrying out large-scale construction there.
Footage captured by reconnaissance aircraft showed that high walls were being erected, heavy artillery was being set up, and even strange aircraft were patrolling the sky.
What does this tell us?
Does this mean that these outsiders killed the alien?
Or did they reach some kind of agreement with the aliens?!
Regardless of the situation, it shows that these people's strength is unfathomable!
"captain----"
The first mate came closer, looking at the spot where Reagan was pointing, his face turning a little pale.
"You—you don't mean to go to Horisonburg, do you?"
"That place is a death trap! A hellish place known as 'Death's Dinner Table,' have you forgotten!?"
Reagan did not answer.
Outside the window, the black smoke was dissipating, and the outlines of the two pursuing ships were faintly visible in the smoke.
The bow gun of the "Fuck Your Grandma" was charging, its red glow standing out starkly against the dust.
"Not going means death." Reagan's voice was cold. "What will happen to us if those two bastards catch us?"
"Men were nailed to armor plates as decorations, women were sold into slavery in the Dark Sea, and ships were dismantled into scrap metal."
"I'd rather deal with aliens than get fucked by them."
Reagan was an extremely pragmatic man.
The fact that Horisonburg could keep its lights on for three months indicates that there is order there.
Where there is order, there is the possibility of trade.
The two ships behind them represent utter idiots; there's no reasoning with them.
"But—how do we get across?"
The first mate pointed to the instrument panel.
"We don't have enough fuel to go full speed ahead, and that's to the north. We have to turn around, and that will expose our sides to them."
"The whole ship doesn't need to go."
Reagan made the decision.
"We continued driving deeper into the scree zone, using the terrain to stall them."
"However, I need to send an advance team out."
Reagan stood up and straightened his oil-stained work jacket.
"Choose six of the fastest all-terrain vehicles."
"Bring along the 'good stuff' we dug up from that site last time."
"Also, bring my data disk full of advanced blueprints."
The first mate's eyes widened: "Captain! That's our lifeline! We're going to use it to buy new engines!"
"What's the point of having bargaining chips when you're about to lose your life?"
Reagan glared at him.
"This is called a pledge of allegiance. We need to tell the leader of that foreign power that we have valuable goods."
"and----"
A sly glint flashed in Reagan's eyes: "We can still shift the blame."
"As long as our convoy heads toward Hollissenberg, those two mad dogs behind us will definitely think we took away the most valuable thing, and they will definitely split up to chase after us."
"Then we'll have a chance to escape."
"If the convoy can successfully make contact with outside forces, perhaps—we can use them to do our dirty work."
We're betting that the foreign power will be reasonable, that they're interested in the technology, and that they have the ability to take out the pursuers!
Although the risk of losing the gamble is ridiculously high, this is Reagan's only option at the moment.
"Execute the command!"
"yes!"
Ten minutes later.
The vehicle hatch on the belly of the "Scavenger" was opened a crack.
Six heavily modified all-terrain vehicles, equipped with nitrous oxide acceleration systems, charged off like a group of startled rabbits.
Instead of following the land-based ships deeper into the scree belt, they turned and headed straight for the open wasteland to the north.
On the roof of the vehicle hung a flag hastily drawn on a white bed sheet, with a gear and a wrench crookedly drawn on it.
This is a common wasteland symbol representing "trade in this" and "peace".
"Buzz—!!!"
The engine roared, kicking up clouds of yellow sand.
The convoy sped toward the legendary death zone, Horisonburg, at a speed of 120 kilometers per hour.
rear.
On the bridge of the "Fuck Your Grandma" ship.
A muscular, bald man with a nose ring was holding binoculars, watching the convoy that had suddenly rushed out.
"Hahaha! Did you see that!"
The burly man laughed loudly, his gold teeth gleaming.
"The rats have lowered the survival boats; they must have loaded all the good stuff into those vehicles!"
"Trying to run? Not so easy!"
He grabbed the communicator and yelled down, "Men! Go after them!"
"Release all assault motorcycles and armed pickup trucks, and get them on your heels!"
"You absolutely must stop those cars for me. I want to see what kind of treasure is inside!"
The "Twilight" ship made the same response.
Dozens of black interceptor vehicles drove out of the ship's hold and joined the pursuit.
Dust billowed across the wasteland in an instant.
Six SUVs sped ahead.
Following behind were hundreds of various armed vehicles, like a long, greedy snake, stretching wildly northward.