Two Shells Per Person

Lin En forced himself to stay calm. "Don't panic. I have a way."

Iron Hammer turned and glared at him. "You don't have an authorization code. What could you possibly do?"

Lin En turned to the system. "System bro, can you block the orbital defenses and the fleet's scanning signals up ahead?"

Only a fool would have a system and not use it.

System bro, you're up!!!!

The system had never seen anyone so good at putting it to work.

Grumbling, it did as he asked.

[Oh, you're something special. You're the most demanding host I've ever met. Other people get transported to another world and dutifully work themselves to the bone. But you? You treat me like a master key. Block the orbital defenses, block the fleet's scans—why don't you just ask me to drop you straight onto Phoros's bridge?]

"You brought me from Earth to Warhammer. You've handled card draws, tracking, and analysis the whole way. If anything deserves to be called all-purpose, it's you. What's a little orbital defense compared to that?"

[Enough talk! Squawk!]

Lin En chuckled.

Then the red dots on the control panel began going out, one after another.

First, the red targeting box around the nearest defense platform vanished from the fire-control radar. Then the second disappeared, and the third.

At last, every targeting marker on the screen cleared, replaced by a green check mark.

Iron Hammer stared at the screen, his mouth falling wider and wider open.

He looked back at Lin En, then at Valerian and Carl.

The two Adeptus Custodes exchanged a glance. They looked just as baffled.

Iron Hammer turned back to the control panel. The warnings vanished one by one until only a small line of green text remained:

[Transit authorization confirmed.]