Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 904, 08.903: 'Everyone who settles in a port has a story.'

Steward Abelard led Horatio through the cold, luxurious corridors of the governor's palace to the special train arranged for him by the von Valancieus dynasty.

Horatio's guards formed a mobile steel fortress, tightly protecting him in the center.

They were the most elite boarding crew members in the fleet, armed to the teeth, and each of them was a ruthless survivor of countless life-or-death battles.

The heavy weapons operator, wielding an automatic cannon, constantly scanned the intricate vaults and covered walkways above with his prosthetic eye, vigilant for any potential threats from above; while the shotgunners on either side, with their signature weapons capable of tearing flesh, kept a close watch on the surrounding crowd, lest any danger lurking in the shadows.

After witnessing the daytime raid and murder, Horatio's security measures have been raised to the highest level. The guards work together seamlessly, and their ability to suppress fire from a distance and destroy it at close range is unparalleled.

"I heard that you have angered His Excellency Carigos Wintersko."

As they approached the gates of the Monarch's Court, the voice of Planetary Governor Vladim Tokala came from the side. With a stern, gaunt face, he respectfully greeted Horatio, who was walking out of the palace gates.

“Yes, I angered him.” Horatio did not pause in his steps, nor did he even glance at him. “What’s wrong, Governor? Is there a problem? Supervisors and those being supervised can never be on the same page.”

"It's nothing." The governor lowered his head, the complex emotions on his face eventually turning into an unfathomable indifference. He said in a low voice, "It's just that I envy people like you... who hold high positions and wield immense power."

"Why? You are now the governor of 'Landing Port'." Horatio's lips curled into a cold, mocking smile. "Aren't you powerful enough already?"

The governor chuckled self-deprecatingly and exhaled through his nose.

"I came from a low-level gang and lived in the grease and grime of the gutter. I climbed to the position of governor by trampling on countless bloodstains and filth, and most importantly, by that sliver of luck."

But I can't decide anything, not even my own life.

If I disobey any of the traveling merchants, their faction can kill me overnight and replace me with someone else.

And you…you don’t need to worry about my pathetic situation at all. You despise me, but you have no idea about the plight of people like us.”

Implied envy and resentment.

"Go find someone to inquire about the name 'Horaceau Cochrane' and the 'Labor Gang' in the Gothic Sector's capital planet, Abyss Harbor."

Horatio snorted coldly, finally stopped, turned around, and stared down at the governor.

"What are you wallowing in self-pity for, Governor? This is no excuse for being manipulated like a puppet and being unable to even handle a murder that happened right before the eyes of the Imperial Navy."

I am Horatio Cochrane, the former king of the Abyss Harbor labor gang.

Before I turned sixteen, I was just like you, struggling in gangs in the lower-middle hives, walking alongside rats the size of wildcats in filthy pipes.

You only see my glamorous current status, but you don't know that I once had the same experience as you.

Remember, if you cannot fulfill your duties to the God-Emperor, you will be nothing more than a pathetic puppet, replaceable at any time, and will never gain true honor and fame.

The governor slightly raised his head and looked at Horatio. Through the constantly buzzing prosthetic eye, no one could tell what his expression was at that moment.

"Farewell, Your Excellency," the governor said silently, bowing deeply once more to Horatio's retreating figure as he descended the steps.
-
"It seems the port of call is small, but everyone here has a story. Steward Abelard."

As Horatio descended the long, gold-leaf-covered steps, he asked Abelard, who was leading the way beside him, without turning his head, "What made you leave the Imperial Navy? You're not like those wandering merchants who would abandon their duties for a price."

The steward paused slightly, as if the question had touched on some deep-seated resentment within him.

He paused for a moment, and after organizing his thoughts, he spoke in a restrained, slightly bitter tone: "As you can see, I was once the first mate of a cruiser, a lord's captain."

He sighed softly.

"I served in the Calithis-Fortress Fleet for ten years, fighting against the Chaos Traitors on the edge of the Eye of Terror for a decade."

There, I met the best officers, the best sailors, and the best commanders in the entire galaxy.

But later, I was transferred back to the Calithis fleet headquarters, and then... I was assigned to a patrol fleet.

I did my utmost, with the highest standards, just as I had when I was still in the Fortress Fleet, to strictly enforce the discipline and regulations of the Imperial Navy. But…”

His voice lowered, “My fellow officers have distanced themselves from me simply because I refuse to join them in accepting the hospitality of traveling merchants and vagrants, and to participate in smuggling and bribery.”

My captain disliked me simply because I pointed out that his patrol routes were inefficient and his combat execution standards were not strict enough.

The soldiers and sailors also hated me because I was too strict with discipline, forcing those who were used to being lazy to train relentlessly.

"In the end, everyone together shoved you into some corner?" Horatio guessed this tragic ending.

"Yes, my lord."

Abelard lowered his head, his lips trembling slightly from the painful memories. "I was transferred from first mate to the service department, in charge of storage and the mess hall—the transfer was approved almost unanimously... and then I met Mrs. Theodora."

She was like a ray of light shining into a dark world; she appreciated me, recognized me, and understood my dedication to my duties.

From then on, I left the Imperial Navy and joined the merchant dynasty of von Valancieus.

Horatio nodded sympathetically, and after a moment, asked in a meaningful tone, "If... there were another chance for you to be free from those sordid matters, would you be willing to return to the Imperial Navy, serve the Emperor, and fulfill your true duties?"

Abelard's eyes widened suddenly, and he blurted out almost without hesitation, "Of course, I'm willing!"

But that moment of brilliance quickly faded.

He calmed down, lowered his head, and said in a voice full of self-reproach, "But I have sworn allegiance to Lady Theodora. I... I cannot break my promise."

"I respect your choice and acknowledge your loyalty. Until we meet again, Manager."

A servant of the Von Valancieus dynasty opened the deep red wood door of the train for Horatio, and Horatio stepped onto the luxurious train.

"Take care, my lord. I wish you a resounding victory and swift success." Standing at the foot of the steps, Abelard solemnly gave a standard Imperial Navy salute, ingrained in his very being, towards the slowly closing carriage door.

Horatio nodded and returned the gesture through the car window.

Ugh! —Ugh—

The special train's whistle echoed long and deep, signaling its departure for Star Harbor.
-
On the train, Horatio sat in a soft, weightless red velvet zero-gravity seat, gazing out the window at the smog-filled harbor.

The chimneys of countless factories, like thick, felled tree stumps, form this imposing and oppressive steel jungle.

Swish, swish—

A soft, rustling sound came from the carriage behind him.

Horatio's brow furrowed involuntarily, and his hand naturally rested on the grip of the bolt pistol at his waist.

squeak--

The heavy wooden door of the carriage behind us was gently pushed open a crack.

The instant the door opened, Horatio moved with superhuman speed.

He sprang from his seat with almost the speed of a blur, turned around, and gripped the heavy bolt pistol in his hand, aiming steadily at the person entering through the door. A red laser sight precisely landed on the other person's heart.

"It's me, boss! Don't shoot, meow!"

A half-cat girl dressed in civilian clothes was terrified by the sudden murderous aura. She raised her hands in fear, but the overly long sleeves covered her small hands, making her look like a frightened little animal.

"Yo yo? It's you?"

Horatio asked curiously, removing his finger from the trigger and locking the safety again.

(End of this chapter)