Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 813, 08.812: 'Task Force RX-0371, officially sets sail!'

The following day, the Abyss Port was established.

The magnificent and massive locks and passageways are filled with countless spacecraft and interstellar ships of all sizes, which move in an orderly fashion through this colossal structure that orbits the planet.

This is the size that the most important void dock and transportation hub in the Gothic Sector should be.

Its structure itself is a void fortress that blends Gothic cathedral and Brutal industrial style. Countless huge buttresses, carved with images of martyrs and crucifixes, extend from the main structure, supporting the vast ferrite landing platform covered with burn marks and fuel stains. The barrels of heavy cannons guard the void, ready to deal with any emergencies.

The air was filled with a complex mixture of odors, including ozone, combustion exhaust, escaping fuel, and sacred oil incense used in purification rituals.

The deep rumble of engines, the piercing screech of cranes, and the broadcasts from countless loudspeakers, a mix of technical priests' binary prayers and commands, are typical of the daily routine of a busy imperial facility.

On the waiting track outside the deep-water port, the first convoy of fifty transport ships hovered silently.

They come in various forms, from sturdy Karak-class cargo ships with coats of arms of different trade license holders printed on their hulls, to relatively small personnel transport ships with slightly outdated hull lines but solid structures.

They were like a group of cubs surrounding a giant beast, and among them stood the behemoth—the cosmic-class massive transport ship, "Yukikaze Raikyou".

This colossal vessel, stretching twenty kilometers in length, is less a ship and more a moving mountain range, a floating city.

Its hull is a simple and practical assembly of countless armor plates, turrets, sensor arrays and living modules, full of the Empire's "practicality first" design philosophy.

From a distance, those towering communication towers and sensor arrays look like Gothic spires planted on a steel continent.

Its mass is so great that it can even generate a faint gravitational field at close range, which can be detected by sophisticated instruments.

This ancient ship, whose history may be older than any of the warships that escorted her, is a living, rusty manifestation of the magnificent power and war potential of the human empire.

Horatio stood on the boarding platform, leading his officers in a final salute to those seeing them off below.

His uniform was impeccably tailored, and the gold sash gleamed under the artificial light of the orbital station.

Behind him, little Horace, nestled in his mother Falida Hood's arms, stared curiously at the surging crowd below the stage with his bright eyes.

Below the stage, amidst cheers and prayers, were Judge Amberley Weir, Military Inspector Kefas Kane, and his loyal guard, Eugen, who exuded a faint scent of tandoori tea.

Their attire contrasted sharply with that of the nobles in their ornate robes, the administrators in their blue-gray uniforms, and the dockworkers in their coarse work clothes.

“To be honest, I’d rather do some work than run around like this all day,” Kefas Kane said in a low voice, teasing Amberley. “But I’m quite satisfied with the living conditions for naval officers. At least they’re much more comfortable than the Astrail Forces’ tents.”

“Let’s go then, Military Commissioner Cafas Kane, let’s get to work,” Judge Amberley said with a smile. “We’re not here in the Gothic Sector for tourism. We have a mission.”

“As you wish, Madam Judge.” Kane shrugged and turned around with the female judge.
-
Following a simple yet solemn farewell ceremony.

Horatio strode across the long boarding bridge and stepped onto the bridge of the HMS Swifthawk, which had been recently repaired and refitted.

He took a deep breath. The air was filled with a faint smell of engine oil, artificial fragrance, and holy oil incense used to soothe the souls of ships—this complex scent was the smell of the Void Ship. Of course, it was the better kind.

The bridge itself is a huge, domed palace, comparable in size to a cathedral on the ground.

Instead of a traditional porthole, there was a huge holographic projection screen composed of countless data streams and tactical icons.

The surrounding walls are inlaid with countless flashing consoles and servo skull interfaces, and the technical priests dressed in crimson robes are communicating with the ancient machine spirit of the ship using binary prayers.

Horatio walked up to the central command platform and sat on his command throne—a complex, ancient machine connected to the nervous system of the entire warship.

As he sat down, the interface on the armrest automatically connected to the data port at the back of his head, and a massive flow of information instantly flooded into his consciousness.

Then, holographic communication images of the seven captains belonging to his escort fleet were projected onto the display console in front of his throne.

They were dressed in standard Imperial Navy lieutenant commander uniforms, with the backdrop of their respective ships' bridges, which were equally imbued with Gothic and classical styles.

"Salute to you, High Lord Captain." Seven lieutenant colonels saluted in unison, their voices echoing through the body-mounted sound system before Horatio. After a brief self-introduction, Horatio memorized the names of the other escort and destroyer captains and their ships, and quickly assigned them to escort formations.

Among them were two people he was familiar with—two old acquaintances from the First Assault Squadron—Squadron Leader Otto Krezimer, and Lieutenant Colonel Pierre Dumanor Le Pelli, who had explained to him in detail how to deal with the Tau alien intelligence.

“Lieutenant Colonel Otto Kretzmer, it seems you still don’t like staying on as a teacher,” Horatio joked.

“Sir, my profession is a soldier, and a soldier’s duty is war,” Lieutenant Colonel Kretzmer replied crisply, but Horatio could detect excitement and fervor in his calm tone.

He noticed that he had seen several of the warships and their captains when he was still a reserve officer.

Years later, they are still lieutenant colonels, commanding the same escort ships.

Thinking about this, he couldn't help but sigh at how fast time had passed, and how astonishingly fast his promotion had been.

This is both a testament to ability and perhaps also a stroke of luck.

"And I salute you all." Horatio's voice, transmitted clearly and steadily through the amplification system of the command throne, reached every captain.

"We are about to embark on the journey to escort more than fifty ships to the Xuanwei defense line."

As explained in the mission briefing that my commander distributed to you, we primarily travel via subspace routes.

However, in certain specific areas, we need to make a transfer.

The portion of the real-world space route leading to the transit point, Mandeville, will be the most dangerous; we could be attacked at any moment.

His wording was rigorous and formal, full of the cold, emotionless quality characteristic of official imperial documents.

He then gave a slight nod to Lieutenant Colonel Krezimer, before turning his gaze to Lieutenant Colonel Pierre Dumanor Le Péry.

"Lieutenant Colonel Le Pelli, it's a pleasure to see you again. To be honest, I didn't know before that you were a talent transferred from the Calissis Fleet to the Gothic Fleet to learn how to operate attack ships. However, judging from your name, I had a vague idea that you were not a native of Gothia."

"Now you know, Your Excellency the Commander."

The man with a hideous scar on his face responded with a smile, which appeared somewhat distorted in the dim light of the holographic projection, "The Calissis fleet is now mobilizing us back to the mother fleet and heading to the Whirlwind Defense Line to deal with the increasingly severe threat."

I am relatively familiar with the route we are taking. I will plan the optimal course for you and guide your fleet.

“Excellent, having someone familiar with the route will save a lot of time.” Horatio smiled with satisfaction and tapped the armrest of the command throne. “Then you will lead the way.”

He paused for a moment, then slowly rose from his throne.

His figure appeared exceptionally tall against the backdrop of the enormous holographic main screen.

His voice, broadcast through the ship's internal broadcasting system, resounded throughout every corner of the 20-kilometer-long behemoth and simultaneously reached every ship in the escort fleet.

"I hereby issue this order!"

"Task Force RX-0371, officially set sail!"
I urge you all to fulfill your duties diligently! Be prepared to fight the enemy!

He did not wait for a response, but ended his command with a short, powerful sentence in ancient High Gothic language, a phrase used only by high-ranking officers of the Empire.

"Imperator Vult! (To fulfill the emperor's ambition!)"

"Yes, sir!" The images of the seven captains responded in unison, their voices filled with determination and a sense of mission.

Under Horatio's will, the powerful plasma engines of the Swift Eagle began to roar like thunder.

The slender hull nimbly turned in the void, leading the massive fleet behind it, like an ancient king leading his subjects, embarking on a new journey towards the perilous yet glorious sea of ​​stars.

(End of this chapter)