Chapter 392

For a long time, otavia and dieterian didn't get along well.

This trip was an accident for both of them. She felt that she had lost patience with such a creature, and he felt that the smell of biochemical substances and organic liquids involved in mammalian reproduction was very unpleasant,

The end result was that both were unhappy.

Their relationship went downhill from the first impression.

When otavia returned to his residence to make the final preparations before the flight, the mechanical bishop was obviously relieved.

When everything was ready, she tied Baiji to the uncomfortable seat on the belly of dieterian's short and fat insect boat. This was also her "bedroom" - just like a real room, there was only one screen and there was hardly enough space to stretch her legs.

"Has anyone ever sat here to test this equipment?"

Otavia asked uneasily, but no one answered her.

A machine servant came silently and inserted a long slender nerve nail into her temple. This thing was made dignified and elegant.

"Oh, be careful."

"Yes."

The cyborg murmured and stared. This was all the answers she got, and she was not surprised.

"You have to push it until it clicks,"

She told a slave who had a lobotomy.

"Unless it comes out of my other bloody ear."

"Be killed."

"Throne, get away."

It said "yes" for the third time, and it did.

Then she heard it hit something in the corridor outside, and the ship shook when it finally loaded its weapons.

There are no portholes in otavia's room, but the situation can be observed through external image input.

The images of the main hangar deck of the curse echo flickered on the screen one by one. The thunder Eagle loaded all the payload and the pod was hoisted to the designated position.

Otavia looked at it with unfeeling eyes and didn't know what she was expecting.

Is this home?

Will she miss all this?

If she managed to escape, where would she go?

"Oh -"

Suddenly, she looked at the screen and whispered a cry of excitement and joy.

"I can't believe it."

She paused the scrolling screen and entered a code to tilt an image detector on the hull.

A figure appeared when the loader car and the crew were transported back and forth.

With an old leather bag on his shoulder, Septimus spoke to dieterian by the main fence. His long hair covered his facial scars, and he wore a delicate bulletproof vest in his thick jacket.

A machete was inserted into his right calf, and two pistols hung low on his hip.

She didn't know what he was talking about. There was no sound from the external viewfinder, but she looked at him and patted dieterian on the shoulder.

No, the sticky chrome body doesn't seem to appreciate it.

After that, Septimus climbed the ladder and disappeared into otavia's view. She could only see dieterian return from the screen and command his loader servant to bring a steady stream of machines onto the ship.

As soon as she turned her head, she heard a knock at the door.

"Tell me you've put on your big handkerchief."

She heard him shouting through the metal door.

Otavia smiled and reached out to check, just in case.

"You are safe."

As soon as the door opened, Septimus threw away his equipment and gave otavia a deep kiss.

"I was fired, just like you."

Otavia touched each other's face with a smile and said with a smile:

"Who will drive the Diablo (the first fierce clawed thunder Eagle) to the ground now?"

"No one. The Diablo has been loaded on the ship. Talos bequeathed it to Valle. It is filled with pharmacist's equipment and relics from the reflection hall. It will be returned to the Legion in our eyes if we can go so far."

Otavia's smile disappeared, just as the sun disappeared behind the horizon.

"We won't go that far. You know that, don't you?"

Septimus shrugged, obviously optimistic.

"Talos said, if I can take you and him."

As he spoke, his right hand gently stroked otavia's bulging stomach.

"Go to a place without so much blood."

Otavia was stunned.

After a long time, she sighed faintly:

"That fool..."

Although it was deliberately restricted, some kind of information quickly spread all over the warship. Curse echo is a city in space. Such a range means that there are all kinds of people in it. stay

On the highest crew deck, where problems are least likely to occur, officers and ratings know what role they should play. They will perform their duties with a professional attitude like the crew of Imperial Navy warships.

But on the lower deck, if the news spread, it would have serious consequences.

Talos tried to avoid this as much as possible.

Thousands of people fed the ship with their blood and sweat. They worked hard in the cabin of the reactor and the platform of the weapon battery, but they did not have a broader understanding of the situation, except for the fact that a battle was about to start.

Taros came to the main engine warehouse deck alone. The surviving soldiers of the tenth company had boarded their pods, and their thunder Eagles were full of combat equipment, ready to be transported from to the ground.

The attendants stood there silently waiting for the next order.

The prophet walked through the quiet landing area to the place where dieterian was walking down the gangway of his ship.

"Everything is ready."

Dieterian was not surprised by the presence of Talos.

Talos nodded and looked at the bishop in eyeglasses.

"Dieterian, swear to me, you'll do what I say. Those three coffins are priceless. Makarion will stand up with us, but the other three coffins must reach the Legion. They can't die here with us."

"Everything is ready."

Dieterian repeated what he had said before.

"Gene seeds are also very important. The stored gene seeds must reach the eyes and swear to me at all costs."

"Everything is ready."

Dieterian seldom cares about the oath of others. In his opinion, the so-called oath is to replace the calculated possibility with hope. In short, it is a defective parameter.

"Swear to me, dieterian."

Under the gaze of Talos, the technical bishop made a low thorn sound.

"If this can make you happy, in order to end this vocal communication, I swear I will strictly follow the plan and try my best to supervise the efforts of others."

"Thank you."

But suddenly dieterian didn't intend to end the conversation soon.

"Talos, it is estimated that after you leave, we will stay in the planetary orbit for several hours, and then we can determine whether there are special-shaped spacecraft chasing us. The unreliability of bird divination instrument is a factor, drift interference is a factor, and psionic interference is another factor. It is logical -"

"Yes, I know, there are many factors."

Talos immediately interrupted each other.

"Now everything is up to you. You can hide as long as you want and run as long as you can."

Dieterian turned and hesitated.

"Soul hunter, I was thinking, should I wish you good luck?"

Dieterian squinted at taros's skull mask.

"You must understand that I feel disgusted at the thought of fate, which is not in line with any statistical logic, Talos."

The prophet did not speak, but extended his hand.

Dieterian's lens was fixed on Talos's goggles at that moment, and his facial structure rotated gently, revealing the fact that his eyes were refocused.

"That's interesting. It's under processing."

After a while, he grabbed Talos's palm.

Talos took the Bishop's hand and returned to the traditional warrior hand salute of the eighth Legion.

"Farewell, revered bishop."

Dieterian searched for an appropriate response. He was an outsider, but those ancient official words were traditionally said by the soldiers of the eighth Legion on on the eve of a mortal battle.

"In the shadow of midnight, may you live and die, son of the eighth Legion."

With that, dieterian immediately turned around and got on his ship along the escalator.

Before Talos left, he saw setithims standing on the top of the slope. The slave was raising his gloved hand to say goodbye to him.

The prophet scoffed at this gesture. Mortals are always forced by emotion to do something meaningless.

After watching for a few seconds, he nodded, greeted his former slave, and left the hangar without saying a word.