StarCraft: Tyranid Empire

Dispatch Hall, Fortress Howe, morning of July 16.

It was a good day for Private Tychus Finley, because it was the first day he was able to escape from the hell on earth that was R-156 Federal Prison.

Tychus was a veteran, a former staff sergeant who was just a few Caymorian heads away from becoming a staff sergeant. But for trying to steal a sum of supplies captured on the battlefield, Tychus was not only beaten to death, but also imprisoned.

According to the Federal Uniform Code of Military Regulations, Part 14, Chapter 76, Article 2, Tychus should have been executed immediately, but perhaps the Marine Corps commanders believed that a dead Marine would not be worse than a criminal. value, he finally survived.

During the three-month period of forced labor, Tychus had to work sixteen hours a day in a federal mine, using explosives, carts and hoes, the most primitive and dangerous methods, without protection. Mining ore. Even so, he finally got over it and was allowed to rejoin the Marine Corps as a private.

A transfer order transferred Tychus and other soldiers who had returned to the army for various reasons from the planet Redding III where he was originally located to Turasis II to join the Federation Marine Corps' military base on the planet, Fortress Howe. garrison.

Because it is far away from the equator and located in the cold zone, the soldiers on duty outside the dispatch hall of Fortress Howe all wear gray thick woolen coats, leather ear protection hats and long leather boots. The people stationed here are real Marines, and there is no need to wear cool power armor or drive retired Goliath mechas every day to fool those bare-butt boys whose eyes light up when they see the mechas. join the army.

Tychus tightened his thin shirt and walked into the crowded dispatch hall. The temperature in the hall was finally higher, but Tychus, who had adapted to the dry and hot climate of Reading III, was still freezing. The lovely layer of fat on his belly could not bring any warmth.

After being imprisoned, all Tychus' personal belongings and equipment were confiscated. Now he only wears a shirt and a thin black nylon jacket. His only possessions are a few pairs of underwear in a handbag. and a sonic razor.

Now, Tychus had to pass through the long line of thirty or forty people in front of them, go to the counter in front of them, and report to the uniformed noncommissioned officer. Then, he could receive a new set of thick clothes and equipment and report to his new commander.

Tychus walked straight past the long queue, ignoring the surprised looks of the people next to him. He first put his belly on the edge of the mahogany table of the counter, and then deftly used his fat butt to lift the counter. The soldier who was talking to the dispatch sergeant pushed away.

He put his elbows on the smooth surface of the counter and pulled out an ID card with identification function from his trouser pocket.

Sergeant, old Tychus still has some important things to do. I think you can open the door as much as possible. Tychus pushed his ID card in front of the sergeant, and at the same time calmly handed out a The quality of the cigar may not be that good.

The soldier who was squeezed away could only be angry but dared not speak. Compared to his thin figure, Tychus was six and a half feet tall, making him a giant. In comparison, he was also frighteningly large, with a thick layer of fat on his strong muscles, and he walked like a heavy but calm grizzly bear.

Tychus' dark brown hair was shaved into a buzz cut, and there was a layer of deep wrinkles next to his chiseled features. When he wrinkled his thick eyebrows or became angry, the wrinkles made him even more dazzled. It looks fierce and terrifying.

Private, jumping in line is not something a federal citizen with good moral character should do. As an excellent federal marine, you should abide by Article 43 of the Marine Corps Management Regulations. The noncommissioned officer was a brown man. The young man with brown eyes had a long dark scar on the back of his neck, more specifically below his left ear.

What's going on? You're not my mother. Tychus didn't know yet that this meant that the other party was a soldier who had been resocialized, and he knew very little about these transformed soldiers: Instead of Instead of wasting time chattering, you might as well quickly put this little pink card away and insert it where it belongs.

Seeing that the noncommissioned officer did not collect his own cigar, Tychus thought that the other man looked down on the inferior brand he got in prison, but in this case, he didn't have to pay for an extra cigarette.

Yes, you are right. To Tychus's expectation, the sergeant actually recognized his nonsense and unreasonable logic: I really shouldn't keep the people waiting in line behind me. , and I am not your mother, nor do I have the responsibility to educate you.

Although the sergeant's voice was calm and serious in the second half of the story, Tychus felt that the other party was insulting him. But because he didn't want to go to jail again, Tychus had to swallow this breath temporarily. He decided to remember the noncommissioned officer's face first, and then look for an opportunity to look at him when he went to the public bathhouse to take a bath.

Private Tychus Finley, according to the transfer order, is assigned to the first squad of the third platoon of the garrison company. Your squad leader is... um, Sergeant Augustus Mengsk. The noncommissioned officer tapped the keyboard and said.

It sounds like a good name, but I hope I'm not a fool. Tychus grinned and said, So, sergeant, where should I go to get my plush bedding, pillows, socks, and other things that won't cost me anything? Where’s the fur coat that’s freezing to death right now?”

. The sergeant frowned, seeming to be troubled by this problem that went beyond the fixed process. After scanning the computer screen, his brows relaxed: You are right, you should indeed get a set of suitable procedures. I sincerely apologize for my mistake regarding the equipment in severe cold areas.

. Tychus had nothing to say for a moment. He had never seen a noncommissioned officer sincerely apologize to a private. In the local Marine Corps of Reading III where bureaucracy and corporal punishment of officers were prevalent, This usually indicates that the other party is going to give you some shoes to fill.

Are all Turasis so polite? Doesn't this make old Tychus look very uneducated?

Go to Supply Depot No. 7 and give it to the person on duty there. Give this to him and he will give you what you need. When the sergeant handed Tychus's ID card back to him, He was handed an additional chip.

That doesn't sound bad. Tychus took the ID card and chip, turned around and left, boarding a bus at the door heading deep into Fortress Howe, and finally stopped in front of a flat, single-story building.

Supply Station No. 7 has a silver-gray metal shell. There are two huge turbo fans on the shiny metal walls, and a metal pipe that goes straight to the ground is buzzing.

The door of the supply depot was unguarded, and Tychus walked in without hesitation, thinking that he might be able to find an opportunity to appropriate goodwill the supplies here to help those who were so poor that they had nothing to wear and no clothes to cover their bodies. Girls.

The supply station is very spacious. It is a huge warehouse composed of rows of shelves several people high. The shelves are filled with various cardboard boxes and lock boxes. About seven or eight young soldiers in brown military uniforms were unloading goods in twos and threes, counting the goods, and climbing ladders to move goods onto or take them off the shelves.

Sitting at the only counter was an energetic soldier with a sometimes sad expression. He had short black hair and a clean uniform. The name on his identity card was James Reynolds.

Good morning, what can I do for you? Acting Logistics Sergeant Reno said.

Thanks to Dazhou Chess Chess, You Xing Shen, Sanye Liuli, The Unkillable Little Hero, Liuhe Little Youth, Liu Xi Tang, Emperor Killing Demon Blade, Jie Shi, Black Silk Rice Ball, Book Friends 20170803164608387, Book Friends 1 60113080326406, Feng My face is full of sand, Atago's favorite person, jerryszy, Yixianhao book friend's monthly ticket, thanks to the unkillable little hero, Rongrong agent for the reward.

This is purely hand typed on a mobile phone, please forgive me if there are any errors. Thanks for voting!