Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 847, page 08.846: 'Trap or Hope?'

"Encrypt and transmit this intelligence information you have discovered to the flagship combat platform." Horatio's heart tightened, but his voice remained calm and fearless as he gave the order to the Starfire.

"Yes, Commander."

A multi-layered encrypted data stream of bird-borne radar detection data was quickly transmitted to the flagship.

On the magnificent, cathedral-like bridge of the "Swift Skyhawk," combat officers in dark blue Imperial Navy uniforms immediately gathered around the central holographic tactical console and began a tense analysis.

"The quality profile of this signal... looks like one of our spaceships. These features... yes, match the records in the identification manual."

A young lieutenant's fingers flew across the data panel, comparing the 3D images in the identification manual with the radar signals, his tone tinged with uncertainty.

"Is it another fleet?" Horatio asked, his voice echoing in the empty bridge.

“Very likely.” The lieutenant nodded. “After all, we’re all sailing on the same precarious route. Warp space is unpredictable, and it’s not entirely impossible that they jumped out from some Mandeville point around us that’s been submerged by turbulence.”

"Thank God! If the other fleets catch up, perhaps we can rendezvous and have more warships to deploy!" an officer said, unable to contain his excitement, thrilled by the sudden glimmer of hope in this hopeless voyage.

"But it also means that there are more unsuspecting ships that need escorting. Sometimes, an overly large convoy is not good news." An older officer next to him poured cold water on his optimism.

“Captain Kudo.” Horatio didn’t want his men to engage in pointless speculation. He directly contacted the captain of the “Yukikaze Raikyou,” a space-class transport ship, through an encrypted channel.

"Commander, how can I help you?" A round-figured man wearing round-framed glasses appeared on the communication screen. He bowed slightly and asked humbly.

"Cosmic-class transport ships are rare in the entire Misty Starfield. Apart from our fleet, each of the other fleets heading to the Whirlwind Line only has one. Your ship database should have the identification codes for other Charter fleets, right?"

Although the Imperial Navy and the Charter Fleet both belong to the Imperial Fleet, they are relatively independent.

The Imperial Navy's database does not contain detailed information on all Charter fleets across the entire star system—unless it is a Titan-class warship, whose memory core might be able to hold such a massive amount of data.

Therefore, in this situation, asking fellow charter fleet members is undoubtedly the best option. Their routes are relatively fixed, and they will be more familiar with other ships on the same route.

"That's right, I'll check for you immediately, Commander, please wait a moment." Captain Kudo immediately instructed his men to begin checking and identifying the parameters.

A moment later, after careful examination, Captain Kudo reported to Horatio again: "Commander, confirmed. The other party is the 'Supreme Glory' space-class transport ship, belonging to Task Force RX-0375. Judging from their trajectory, they seem to have just jumped out from an unstable undercurrent, Mandeville point."

"This is wonderful! It's a friendly convoy!" A burst of barely suppressed cheers erupted on the bridge.

After being chased by hunters in the void for so long, it is incredibly exciting to encounter a friendly fleet here.

"Captain, should we immediately send a Star Language communication request to rendezvous with the other side?" Louise asked.

Horatio stared at the star map, his brow furrowed, showing no sign of relaxation.

“No,” he ordered decisively. “We must not have any contact or communication with them in any form until their fleet contacts us first.”

“Yes, Captain.” Louise was unmoved by the cheers of the others and carried out the captain’s order with a cold tone. This female officer of Cardia had a different kind of caution and a higher level of consideration from the captain’s perspective.

However, before Horatio could finish speaking, an urgent shout came from the communications department on the bridge, shattering the brief peace.

"Captain! We have received an urgent communication request from friendly forces!"

An uproar erupted on the bridge.

Even Horatio himself frowned in disbelief.

Almost simultaneously, everyone's eyes were focused on the captain, awaiting his orders.

"Play." Despite his doubts, he still held onto a last glimmer of hope and curiosity about the content of the message.

A faint, intermittent voice broke through a five-minute-long barrage of grating electrical noise caused by distance and subspace rift interference: "This is... Task Force RX-0375... We... We are under attack... We urgently need reinforcements... Have... Have any friendly warships been received? Repeat! This is Task Force RX-0375, we are under heavy attack and urgently need reinforcements!"

"Captain, should we respond and try to make contact with the remaining ships in the escort convoy?" the communications officer shouted.

Horatio sat on his towering command throne, but a rare hint of hesitation appeared on his face.

His fingers gripped the armrests of the throne tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force.

His mind was racing, analyzing the current situation and the potentially catastrophic consequences of every decision.

Is this a genuine plea for help, or a carefully crafted trap set by the Dark Eldar?
In recent days, the Dark Eldar have been invading their communication channels like ghosts, spreading fear and lies, creating chaos and suspicion.

Even now, when he receives a request for assistance from a friendly ship, he doesn't dare to reply rashly.

Faced with Ducati's ancient and incredible technology, human communication channels are almost one-way and transparent, mere playthings to be wantonly ravaged.

He wasn't sure if it was a drowning person's outstretched hand or a deadly tentacle reaching out from the abyss, ready to drag them down at any moment.

Horatio took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let his consciousness sink into the depths of his soul, looking at the black gold skill tree that represented forbidden power, and the corruption bar that always hovered on the edge of the warning line.

With the recent frequent warnings, he was already stuck at the threshold of the Corruption Gauge nearing full, having previously used the "Omen Shard" skill, which was within the safe range for the last time.

His iron will was struggling to suppress the corrosive influence.

The next time it will be safe to remove the corruption and use the "Omen Shard" again is at 13:00 standard Terran time.

There are still five hours until now.

This also means that in these crucial five hours, he can no longer rely on his ability to foresee the future, but can only rely on his experience accumulated over the years in the endless void and his memory of countless battles to make judgments.

Unless... he is willing to risk his soul being completely corrupted and falling into eternal damnation, and take the risk.

As an officer in the Imperial Navy, a revered expeditionary hero, he had to wait five hours to make a decision after receiving a request for support from a friendly ship…

What will his officers and soldiers think? What will the entire fleet think of him? How will the accompanying military supervisors record this in their reports? Does this constitute dereliction of duty and incompetence? Has he fulfilled the responsibilities he promised to the Emperor?
However, if this is a trap, the entire fleet will be left completely unguarded, ready to face the poisoned blade already aimed at their hearts.

Suddenly, Thee walked silently to his side like a gentle breeze.

She tiptoed and whispered something in his ear in an almost inaudible voice.

Upon hearing this, Horatio's face was instantly filled with astonishment. He turned to look at They in surprise, his eyes filled with disbelief.

“No! That’s too dangerous!” He almost instinctively and resolutely rejected the crazy suggestion.

"In your hands are the lives of hundreds of thousands of sailors, and behind these supplies are millions of Astral Army soldiers who need reinforcements, and even the lives of hundreds of millions of Imperial civilians under their protection," Thee said with a smile, as if what she had just proposed was not a plan so audacious as to be suicidal.

"This is too risky! I reject this application, Your Honor."

"A hasty response might be even more risky. Rest assured, Captain. To survive the greatest risks, we need the best pilots."

"Naval Lieutenant Colonel Anya Fasha and Captain Veronica have already expressed their support for my plan," They said, smiling as she looked behind the throne.

Horatio followed her gaze and manipulated the throne to slowly turn backward.

Two female officers, dressed in wolf-brown leather flight jackets and with flight helmets tucked under their arms, were walking towards him with firm and powerful strides.

“Captain.” Anya Fasha gave Horatio a flawless military salute, her voice clear and firm. “We will escort Inquisitor They Peru to the communications signal source for identification and reconnaissance.”

(End of this chapter)