In the strategy room, the grand blueprint for the future counteroffensive set everyone's blood racing, but that was still a matter for the future. The faint rumble of artillery outside the windows and the red alerts flashing across the holographic tactical display were merciless reminders that, for now, they were still fighting a difficult defensive battle.
Dreaming of the future was exciting, but sooner or later, they had to plant their feet firmly in reality.
Herbert Hernanpode did not bask in the joy of that grand vision for long. As a veteran daemon-hunting Inquisitor who had fought on countless worlds corrupted by Chaos, he knew that details decided success or failure.
He took the thick report on Pedetia's current situation that Robert handed him and leafed through it swiftly and methodically. His mechanical eye whirred in its socket, scanning every line of data. Suddenly, he stopped, his brows drawing tightly together as though he had seen something impossible.
He looked up, slapped the report down hard on the table, and raised a crucial question. "Robert, are you sure these figures are correct? Why are there so few churches on your planet? In fact, I'd say there are practically none."
In this Milky Way Galaxy of war and faith, a Hive City planet had so few churches. To Herbert, that was an utterly incomprehensible weakness.
Robert frowned slightly and explained, "That has always been our development strategy. We previously devoted most of our energy, resources, and manpower to industrial construction and infrastructure improvements. That's the key reason Pedetia can still sustain the demands of high-intensity warfare despite having shipped most of its stockpiled equipment out to support other regions. What we need are factories and assembly lines, not stone buildings where all anyone does is chant prayers."
"That won't do. Absolutely