Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 790 08.789: "Warship and Classroom"

Cold, much-circulated air filled the command bridge of the Imperial attack ship Epic.

This place is currently being used as a special classroom.

The towering dome extends upward like the nave of a Gothic cathedral with an awe-inspiring arc, with cold metal structures interlaced with heavy red and black marble pillars. The floor is made of the same stone, cold and hard, reflecting the faint light of the console.

At one end of the bridge, the huge main observation window did not show the depth of the starry sky at this moment, but projected complex ship structure diagrams and star map data to serve today's courses.

The low and powerful pulsation of the plasma engine continued to echo in the air. It was the eternal heartbeat of the giant ship, and was occasionally mixed with the delicate calculation sounds of the logic engine, the slight turning sounds of the servo mechanism, and the occasional hissing sounds of the pneumatic device, which together formed a unique symphony inside this steel behemoth.

Several silver-gleaming servo robots, whose craftsmanship is as exquisite as sculptures, stand silently beside the control consoles embedded in the floor, their precision gear arms operating deftly on the polished mahogany panels.

A group of naval cadets, whose average age is less than thirteen, are receiving instruction in ship structure in this solemn place.

Most of these boys and girls wearing small naval bicorne hats came from wealthy aristocratic families in the Abyss Port Star District or naval families with a long history.

For these children who have been immersed in the aura of privilege and glory since birth, everything in the Naval Academy and even on this legendary battleship is full of dazzling freshness.

They were like fledgling eagles, eager to spread their wings. The chattering sounds spread across the spacious bridge, forming a sharp contrast with the ship's inherently calm background sound.

These preparatory students are at an age where they have infinite aspirations for the future.

They took it for granted that they would grow up healthily in this school forged of steel and faith, and then successfully pass the lieutenant qualification assessment, and eventually become an imperial naval officer wearing a ribbon of honor, and then command a warship of their own, dominating the starry sea and becoming the pride of their family and the empire.

Their noise at this moment is not just the restlessness of youth, but also a mixture of yearning for and imitation of those heroic epics.

Some students pointed at the holographic projection and argued about the firing angle of a certain turret in a childish affirmative tone; others scribbled the blueprint of their imaginary battleship on the data board with a smug smile on their lips.

In front of them, a calm-looking Imperial Navy Lieutenant Commander, Otto Kretschmer, was serving as their lecturer.

Although his uniform was neat, it bore the wear and tear of long service at the cuffs and collar, and a few inconspicuous war medals modestly testified to his qualifications.

In a steady and precise tone, he explained to these future naval pillars the mysteries of the complex structure and compartment distribution of the Imperial warships.

“Although the design details of ships of different classes vary greatly, even ships of the same class will have many differences in response to tactical needs and technological changes during their long service life.”

He spoke slowly, his voice clearly audible in the bridge, "But its core design concept remains the same despite all the changes. Just as the command bridge will always be located in front of the engine compartment to obtain the best protection and command vision; and the macro gun array will always be deployed behind the bow armor shield, shouldering the primary responsibility of tearing apart enemy ships." What he taught was the practical experience gained from many battles, rather than the rigid dogma in books.

There is also a naval captain who stands on the side of the cadet queue and serves as a classroom assistant, mainly responsible for maintaining classroom discipline.

However, faced with this group of energetic young students with prominent backgrounds, his efforts obviously had little effect.

His upright posture seemed a little stiff, and his brows were furrowed from time to time because of the whispers of the students.

"Silence! Silence! Students!"

The captain could not help but raise his voice, cleared his dry throat, and tried to suppress the inappropriate noise. "It's lecture time now! Put away your damn curiosity! Listen quietly to the lecture of the expedition hero, Lieutenant Colonel Otto Kretschmer!"

He paused, emphasized his tone, and tried to calm the situation with a well-known name: "You are now standing on the flagship commanded by Lord Horatio Cochrane, the descendant of the legendary admiral Speyer, the hero of the Empire, and the captain of the Gothic Fleet, in the second expedition to the Damocles Gulf - the 'Epic' attack ship!"

Even though the captain emphasized it at the top of his voice, these lively and ignorant young people, when they heard the name of "Lord Horatio Cochrane" and his ship "Epic", their already uncontrollable excitement reached its peak.

These children grew up listening to the legendary stories of the Gothic Fleet. In the past two years, the Abyss Port Interior Department has been reporting Horatio Cochrane's glorious military exploits in a series of articles, compiling them into a book and spreading them widely.

At this moment, they were in the midst of a legend, and the excitement made their discussion even louder, their eyes sparkling with infinite yearning for heroic deeds.

The captain looked at the motionless lieutenant colonel with a look of embarrassment and apology.

Lieutenant Colonel Kretschmer's face remained calm, and there was no ripple of emotion in his deep eyes, as if the noise from the outside world could not disturb his heart that had long been tempered by the war and became indestructible.

This is the essential difference between a battle-hardened school commander and a lieutenant who is still in the process of being tempered, the difference that comes from countless life-and-death tests. The lieutenant colonel's silence is not an indulgence of lax discipline, but more like a well-considered wait, waiting for a more appropriate time to pull these young people immersed in the aura of heroes back to the cruel reality.

"Then, let's start with a battle history of the 'Epic'." Lieutenant Colonel Kretschmer finally spoke. His voice was not loud, but it had an unquestionable penetrating power that instantly seemed to lower the temperature in the bridge a few degrees.

The noise of the students died down miraculously. "You have all read the report of the Ministry of Internal Affairs. The Epic once destroyed a heavy aircraft carrier flagship anchored in a heavily guarded alien military port in a surprise attack.

Do any of you know how Captain Cochrane planned and executed this daring and dangerous combat plan?" His sharp eyes swept across the young faces, with no praise or criticism in his eyes, only pure inquiry.

As the question was raised, the naval cadets, who had just been chattering like a group of disturbed starlings, gradually quieted down.

They looked at each other, and their loud discussions turned into low whispers, their childish voices full of speculation and uncertainty.

Although they were familiar with Colonel Cochrane's great achievements, they knew very little about the specific tactical details. The bureaucrats of the Ministry of the Interior knew nothing about the tactics of the Imperial Navy. Therefore, in the public propaganda of war history, unless it was a professional war history compilation compiled by the Navy, the superficial propaganda of the Ministry of the Interior was so professional that any naval officer with a little military literacy could not help laughing.

"Since no one knows for sure."

Lieutenant Colonel Otto Kretschmer's tone was serious and cold, without a trace of emotion. "Well, as a witness of that battle, I suggest that you study the following content with the most rigorous and serious attitude."

"I know!" A naval cadet who was taller and looked older than the other cadets raised his hand abruptly and said in a loud voice, "Lord Cochrane activated the shadow force field of the Epic and successfully avoided detection outside the alien naval port. He then swaggered into the port area, killing everyone in his way!"

After the young man said this, he proudly put his hands on his hips, raised his chin high, and the tip of his nose almost reached the sky, as if he had seen through all the mysteries of war.

"Your answer is correct in part, but not all." Lieutenant Colonel Kretschmer's voice sounded calmly, but like a precise scalpel, it cut open the superficial part of the young man's answer.

"After fighting against our heroic First Attack Squadron for such a long time, could it be that those alien races had no defense against our surprise attack? You know, to underestimate your enemy is the greatest irresponsibility to yourself."

He pointed out the students' cognitive biases mercilessly, and his calm tone was more stressful than a harsh rebuke.

"An important point in today's lesson is: 'If you regard your enemies as fools, then you will be the only one who becomes a fool.' With this mentality, you will never be able to achieve the great achievements of Lord Cochrane."

As he finished speaking, Lieutenant Commander Kretschmer turned solemnly towards the vacant adamantine command throne in the center of the bridge.

The throne was simple and majestic in shape, covered with complex runes and interfaces, with a high backrest and wide armrests. It exuded a cold metallic luster, silently telling of the heavy responsibility shouldered by the commander who once sat on it.

The lieutenant colonel solemnly tucked his officer's wide-brimmed hat under his ribs, straightened his already upright chest, and lowered his head slightly, as if paying the highest respect to the empty throne and the commander who once sat on the throne and made all the decisions.

"Uh..." The young student who was so arrogant before, his cheeks instantly turned red like a cooked crustacean amid the uncontrollable laughter of his classmates. His head, which was raised proudly, quickly drooped down like a punctured balloon, and he wished he could find a crack in the ground to crawl into.

"Then...then how can we get in?" He muttered unwillingly, and then he suddenly raised his head as if he had thought of something, and retorted with a hint of excitement after being humiliated: "Could it be relying on a short-distance jump in the subspace? No, that is absolutely impossible, the risk is too great!"

"Maybe it's teleportation." Another student interjected in a joking tone.

"Hahahahahaha..." An uncontrollable burst of laughter broke out in the bridge again, full of the youth's unruly nature and gloating over their companions' predicament.

"When your ship-handling skills reach perfection, you will be highly unified with the ship's will."

A steady and powerful voice suddenly rang out in the bridge, interrupting the mockery. It was like fine steel that had been quenched and polished countless times. It did not sound loud or harsh, but it penetrated all the noise with extraordinary clarity, causing waves of echoes in the slightly empty, dome-roofed command bridge of the "Epic".

"You can then fit your ship tightly under an unsuspecting enemy ship, using its huge hull as cover, like Odysseus hiding under a sheep's belly, and follow the enemy destroyer quietly into the depths of the heavily guarded naval port."

This sudden sound startled everyone in the bridge. The students all looked in the direction of the sound, their young eyes filled with pure curiosity, and they began to chatter and discuss in low voices, wondering if the dean of the academy was here for inspection.

The assistant captain in charge of maintaining discipline frowned, his face full of suspicion and a hint of vigilance. He quickly glanced in the direction of the sound, confused: Who on earth was so bold as to break into a classroom where an advanced tactical course was being conducted?
Only Lieutenant Colonel Otto Kretschmer had a frozen expression on his face, and a rare flash of disbelief and astonishment flashed across his calm eyes.

He turned around abruptly, no longer paying attention to the students behind him, and instead took quick and firm steps from where he had been standing, walking quickly towards the direction where the sound came from.

(End of this chapter)