Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 825, 08.824: A Desperate Struggle

"Captain, these attackers... something's not right."

First Mate Archie Cuthbert Collingwood's voice was hoarse and dry, as if his throat were rusty.

His bloodshot eyes were fixed on the critical data stream that kept jumping on the central screen of the control console, and his eyelids twitched slightly due to extreme tension and fatigue.

He forced himself to blink, trying to dispel the dryness that felt like sandpaper rubbing against his eyeballs.

"They're deliberately wearing down our will and straining our nerves."

He rubbed his temples. "They don't seem to be in a hurry for a decisive battle. They're more like waiting... waiting for us to be driven to a mental breakdown by this endless harassment before they rush in and start the real slaughter."

He has been on duty for more than 72 consecutive standard hours.

During that time, he drank at least sixteen cups of highly concentrated Reca coffee, and at that moment he felt that this bitter and spicy liquid was flowing through his veins.

During a state of high combat alert, ordinary crew members can maintain a minimum level of rest through shift work, but a limited number of officers, especially those in key positions on the bridge, must be on duty at all times.

They will not have a moment's peace unless the captain orders an adjustment to the readiness level.

Not to mention, the entire flagship only had one captain and one lord captain.

Their responsibilities are like a physical mountain, pressing heavily on their shoulders, allowing no room for slackening.

During such prolonged standoffs, Imperial Navy regulations typically allowed one officer and one reserve officer in each department to take a short break at a chair next to their battle station to recharge.

The group took turns resting, enduring endless torment as they waited for the fleet to reach the next Mandeville point, where they would leap into the warp for a brief respite.

However, for Captain Horatio and Lord Lieutenant Collingwood, rest was an unattainable luxury.

"Your analysis is very accurate, Captain Lord." A cool female voice rang out, its steady tone contrasting sharply with the weariness permeating the bridge.

Judge They Peruv approached.

Her well-tailored black uniform appeared even more solemn under the dim emergency lights of the bridge, the fabric almost without a single wrinkle, standing out starkly against the ubiquitous stains and wear and tear of the surrounding environment.

This time, her face lacked its usual polite smile, replaced by a cold indifference, like deep space itself.

She didn't look at the lord captain, but stared at the bottomless void outside the armored observation window, dotted with stars.

“Based on my analysis of the images of the destroyed enemy ship wreckage,” she said clearly and precisely, without a trace of superfluous emotion, “the attack on us was carried out by a dark Eldar conspiracy group that calls itself the ‘Children of Thorns.’”

She paused, letting the ominous name ferment in the weary minds of the crowd, eventually arousing their vigilance.

"Secret intelligence from the court's internal database and the intelligence network indicates that this conspiracy group has been exiled from the Dark City due to its defeat in the political struggle in the Comoros. They are eager to accumulate capital by capturing large numbers of slaves to prove their worth and plot their return to the intricate power structure of the Comoros."

She turned around and glanced at the key officers on the bridge.

"This rebellion in Severus seems to be closely related to them, but there are still many doubts that we need to investigate ourselves after we arrive at the Fourth Defense Line."

But now, we must focus on the immediate crisis. Because the 'Children of Thorns' are exiles, they have gathered all the Void power they possess, and have even summoned the Eldar Corsairs, with whom they have a ties, to raid together.

The size of this raiding group may be beyond our imagination.

The dozen or so raiding ships we are currently seeing on the Observer radar are likely only a small part of the reconnaissance fleet.

The real wolf pack is still on its way.

They's tone grew more severe, each word like a cold piece of metal striking the deck: "If you don't want to become their spoils, captured and thrown into the Comoros arena or sent to the Bloodwalkers' laboratory, you'll have to be on your guard and fight with all your might." With that, They opened the holographic display case in her hand.

A ghastly green beam of light was projected into the air, creating a nauseating 3D image.

These are images captured by tribunal agents who risked their lives to infiltrate the Comoros.

The streets were filled with slaves locked in rusty cages, barely clothed, with empty eyes and covered in a mix of old and new wounds and filth.

In some shops that resembled slaughterhouses, dozens of human corpses were hanging, neatly split in two at the hips. Their internal organs had been removed, and their muscle tissue had been processed into meat for the Dark Eldar to consume, or used to feed the genetically engineered monsters created by the Haemonculi.

The scene just now was probably nothing more than an appetizer for the Dark Eldar. The even more depraved and brutal scenes that followed, even after being blurred by the Inquisition's technicians, still exuded a chilling pure malice.

Those who witnessed all of this felt no lustful impulses, only a deep-seated terror and physical nausea.

Because everyone knows that falling into the hands of these aliens means there is no possibility of a good end, only endless, meticulously designed suffering.

Piercing, vivisection, waterboarding, sensory deprivation... all that slaves could get was heart-wrenching screams.

And this is precisely the source of power that the Comoros's cruel aliens crave—pure pain.

Finally, with a chilling, piercing scream, the video ended, and the bridge fell into a deathly silence, broken only by the monotonous hum of the life support systems and the low hiss of coolant flowing through the pipes.

Fear, like the coldest ice, froze everyone's blood.

"So, everyone, cheer up."

Horatio's booming voice, like a great bell, pulled everyone on the bridge back to reality from the terrifying vision of the Comoros.

"Our mission is to reach the Fourth War Zone of the Circum-Guardian, not to be kidnapped to the Comoros and become slaves to be played with by aliens."

*Whoosh!*

As Horatio finished speaking, another deep red signal flare was launched from the stern of the ship at the rear of the formation, exploding in the dark void, appearing particularly dazzling.

"Signal confirmed, distress beacon from 'Norma,' right hull, 087." The lookout officer's voice came from his station, his tone tinged with a numbness born of repetition.

During the three-day voyage, the Dark Eldar raiders did not launch a large-scale general offensive, but instead, like carrion vultures, they steadily nibbled away at the cargo ships on the outer perimeter of the fleet.

Each time Horatio was weighing whether to switch to Level 2 combat alert so that the crew and officers could take turns resting, a similar attack report would arrive, ruthlessly extinguishing his idea.

"These damned alien bastards, we'll make them pay for this test of our will." Horatio's voice was filled with suppressed rage.

"The Scimitar-class escorts HMS Loyal Hound and HMS Salokhan Lion are executing a zigzag evasive maneuver to approach the attacked ship. They are ordered to drive the enemy ship away at all costs."

"Yes, Commander." The voices of the two lieutenant commanders came through the communication channel clearly, carrying the composure characteristic of the Imperial Navy.

Then, Horatio faced the entire bridge and issued his orders like thunder.

"Helmsman, turn! Heading 095, full speed ahead! Weapons officer, replenish the ammunition racks, operations department, check the status of all macro gun crews."

The entire ship is on Level 1 combat alert! The logistics department is providing all officers and crew with unlimited Reca coffee and all other energizing supplies.

We must take the initiative and teach these guys, lurking in the shadows and constantly provoking us, a bloody lesson!

(End of this chapter)