Chapter 4502.0045: "No Civilian Casualties!"
Horatio knew something big had happened when he saw his fellow students rushing towards the gunfire. He immediately stood up and instructed the half-cat girl who was devouring her meal, "You eat here. Take this with you." Horatio tossed the bread given by the baker and the address token from his assistant, Deacon Jonathan, to the half-cat girl, saying, "If you remember the name Horatio Cochran, you'll know I haven't taken in just one person like you." The "Labor Gang" had previously sheltered many petty thieves like her, using them to watch out for the gang, collect supplies and intelligence, in exchange for a place to stay and food to eat.
"..." The half-cat girl was speechless for a moment, looking at him silently. He turned to leave. "Sir, you don't have any armor!" Yīn Shuyao called out in dismay, stepping forward and blocking him with her arms spread wide. "Bullets have no eyes; it's too dangerous to rush over like this." "The moment the training turned me into a Loyalist Heir, my body and soul belonged to the Divine Emperor. Now that my classmates are rushing to the scene, what reason do I have to hide behind civilians?" Horatio pushed the girl's arm down and smiled, "Since you're so worried, please pray for my safety." Seeing that his mind was made up, the girl didn't know what else to say. After a moment of thought, her eyes were filled with resolve. "Sir, please wait a moment." She ran into the bar and took out a medical kit from a cabinet below. Returning to Horatio, she said, "Please take this. I hope it helps." "Thank you. May the Divine Emperor bless kind people like you." Horatio took the medical kit from her hand, looked at the figures of the Loyal Heirs, and immediately rushed towards the very front of the gunfire.
These elite-trained Loyal Heirs had excellent physical fitness and speed. Even in their heavy carapace armor, they moved swiftly. Because it was just a security patrol, they were not equipped with large weapons with extreme armor-piercing capabilities like the Riza-type Hellgun. Instead, they were holding brand-new, high-quality, and precious Acartlan Recon Lasguns. Furthermore, as light firepower, their lethality was not as great as the Catrell Standard Lasgun, making them suitable as standard armament for maintaining stability in the port area for the Marines. "Please let me pass! Excuse me, please make way!" Horatio pushed his way against the crowd, getting closer to the scene of the shooting. The bustling intersection, once filled with protesting crowds and pedestrians, was now a rare open space, like a drop of detergent on an oil-laden plate. The protestors scrambled to flee, banners protesting the increase in survival necessities fees were thrown everywhere, and debris such as broken stones and rotten vegetables were scattered haphazardly. Dozens of injured people lay on the ground; some were silent, while others moaned on the ground, covering their wounds and crawling with difficulty. The scene was horrific, and the claim of "no civilian casualties!" reported in the news was debunked. Directly opposite the intersection, the avenue leading to the surface, to the Abyssal Port Administration Palace, was blocked by armed Bounty Hunters and mercenaries. Led by representatives of the Guild Alliance, the first rank knelt, the second rank stood, their gun barrels emitting wisps of smoke. Screams of fear, cries of relatives of the dead and injured, moans of the wounded, and denouncements of the perpetrators converged, causing the district to erupt once more. "These beasts." Horatio could not accept the atrocity before his eyes. Although he knew the Warhammer World was dark and desperate, where people were killed arbitrarily. Seeing a indiscriminate shooting of innocent civilians before his eyes struck him profoundly, as if his heart were being roasted over a scorching fire. More importantly, the mercenaries' actions were clearly unauthorized, otherwise the Loyalist Heir Marines would not have come to intervene. Finally, his gaze fell upon the van parked in the middle of the road, with bread patterns painted on its side. There were bullet holes in the front and rear driver's seats. [The children in the back!!!] Horatio's eyes widened, a suffocating sensation surged into his throat, and he immediately charged towards the van. "We are the Loyalist Heir Marine Corps! We are now taking over site security. In the name of the Imperial Navy, we order you to leave the scene! Otherwise, you will be charged with insubordination!" Sergeant Louise shouted, leading the charge. At the same time, she called for reinforcements from the Sacred Rose Sister of Battle and the Imperial Navy's medical corps. Loyalist Heir Marines, gathered from all nearby areas, a total of 35 people, maintained vigilance at intervals of five meters, efficiently maintaining stability. "Representative, the Loyalist Heirs have arrived," the Warmonger in charge of organizing the Bounty Hunters said to the representative. "Maintain the human wall and absolutely do not let these rioters charge the Administration Palace!" The representative of the Guild Alliance was a man in embroidered robes, his face powdered white, and he even wore lipstick, making him look neither human nor ghost, and his voice was effeminate and sarcastic. Horatio rushed to the front of the bread van, and the cries of children inside were incessant. He yanked open the car door, only to see the slightly overweight baker protecting his wife and daughter, his waist and thighs already stained with blood. "How many people are injured?" Horatio asked anxiously. "My husband..." Amidst the daughter's wails, the woman in the co-pilot seat sobbed, covering her mouth, her face streaked with tears and makeup. "I'm fine, just a bit of pain in my kidney, ouch." The baker's lungs drew in cold air, his face pale, not at all as nonchalant as he claimed. Thanks to his previous job, Horatio had mastered exquisite emergency bandaging skills. He skillfully cleaned the gunshot wound on the baker, and used a tourniquet and disinfectant cotton to perform emergency hemostasis and bandaging. "Classmate, you shouldn't be here, go back quickly! You're not wearing carapace armor!" Sergeant Louise shouted from behind Horatio, who was bandaging the baker. "I know, but I am already a coin of the Divine Emperor, and I want to help them." Horatio didn't turn his head, focusing intently on treating the wound. "It's very dangerous here. As a sergeant, I am responsible for new warriors like you. Leave the rest to me. You must leave now." Sergeant Louise did not intend to comment on or correct the new sergeant's thoughts and opinions. She stepped forward, preparing to take over the wound treatment from Horatio, when she was suddenly interrupted by a wave of enraged roars. "Murderers!!!" Shouts came from the corner on the right side of the intersection. Angry citizens, some with red ribbons tied around their heads, men and women, mostly young adults, rushed out, holding old firearms they had acquired from somewhere. "Senior, you should go maintain order, the situation is not good right now." Horatio looked at Sergeant Louise's purple eyes. "Be careful." The female sergeant frowned her willow-like eyebrows, nodded, and then gestured for the Loyalist Heir Marines to go and reinforce them. Those were the "Citizen Militia" mentioned by Deacon Jonathan. Through his memory, Horatio knew that the Vegas Citizen Militia were armed individuals formed in recent years by workers and students living in the mid-level districts of Vegas, who claimed to fight for citizen interests and oppose the exploitation by the Guild Alliance. As the calls to oppose the Guild Alliance grew louder, the influence of the Vegas Citizen Militia gradually increased, and they were classified by the Guild Alliance regime as extremists that must be eradicated. However, because many of them were ordinary factory and school workers and students, and they were very restrained in using force. Moreover, their influence was not large, and they only targeted and plundered the resources of the Guild Alliance regime, consciously refraining from provoking the Imperial authorities. They even voluntarily submitted all confiscated materials, after reserving the necessary amount for relief, to the Department of the Interior as the planet's tithe. Even though the Guild Alliance insisted they were "rebels," the Imperial officials clearly didn't care and didn't want to add extra work to deal with these troubles for the Guild Alliance. It is estimated that Imperial bureaucrats on each planet witness over ten regime changes in their long and protracted lives. To them, as long as Abyssal Port remained loyal to the Imperium and continued to pay the tithe to the Imperium on time, it didn't matter who managed Abyssal Port. Therefore, the Department of the Interior, the Ministry of Justice, the Imperial Navy, and others turned a blind eye, classifying them as "opposition forces" rather than "rebels." These people, disregarding the obstruction of the Loyalist Heir Marines at the front line, charged the intersection and fired at the Bounty Hunters and mercenaries, throwing self-made incendiary bottles. For a moment, the street erupted in gunfire again. "First rank! Prepare!" "Please readers, keep following the latest chapters! Following is very important for new books and directly affects survival! Please vote for monthly tickets~ collect~ recommend~ (●｀●) There's another chapter this afternoon! 46. Chapter 46020046: F4 District Unlimited Fighting Competition Chapter 4602.0046: "F-4 District Unlimited Fighting Competition" At the signal of the Guild Alliance representative, the Warmonger waved his hand, and the thugs pointed their guns at the charging militants. "Cochran, be careful!" the female sergeant shouted, turning back before she had run far. Horatio looked up and saw that the mercenaries had already aimed their guns at them. "Damn it..." he cursed. "Open fire! Open fire!! Shoot to death these damned civilians!" "Activate: Power Fist" Horatio raised his iron hand, instantly ripped off two car doors and stacked them, then jumped out of the car, keeping his body as low as possible. Bullets rained down on the Citizen Militia members and the passersby and protestors behind them. "Ugh!" Several armed youths were the first to be shot dead on the ground, their bodies riddled with further shots. Then, some protestors who were trying to drag the injured to the side were also knocked down by the fierce firepower. Bullets mercilessly pierced through mortal flesh and blood, and also struck the door panel held by Horatio, but failed to penetrate the second layer, allowing Horatio behind it to survive. With a scream, a civilian woman fell to the ground; she had her femur shot through while trying to drag her injured daughter to safety. More and more people fell on the scene. Even if someone was just trying to drag an injured family member to safety, these bloodthirsty Bounty Hunters and mercenaries would shoot them dead. Horatio was enraged by this cruel scene. He made up his mind and, carrying the two door panels, charged into the crossfire. "What is that thing! Open fire! Don't let him get close!" Bullets intensely hammered the door panels, making a "dong dong" sound. The first layer had already been turned into a sieve. Horatio stomped the second door panel onto the ground and pulled out the unformed first layer. The prosthetic limb gradually increased its power, and hot air surged. "Form ranks!" the female sergeant called out to the surrounding Loyalist Heir Marines through the horn-shaped array on her back. Even amidst the crowd, the surrounding civilians did not dare to clash with the Loyalist soldiers, and they voluntarily made way for them. Thanks to this, over thirty people quickly formed a long line. "Stop! Cease fire! Quick! Don't hit the Loyalist soldiers, kill that kid!" the Warmonger shouted, but bullets fly regardless. A bullet hit the female sergeant standing at the front of the line. The bullet shattered on her carapace chest plate, instantly turning into countless fragments that flew behind her. Buzz– The Aegis of Om Loyal Scion Helmet emitted a terrifying red light. Horatio stood in front of the injured mother and daughter. Two brave protestors took the opportunity to step forward and drag the injured into an alley. Another youth stumbled and fell to the ground in front of Horatio. Judging by the books he was carrying, he was likely an ordinary student who had inadvertently been caught up in the chaos. Seeing a line of people pointing their guns at him, Horatio waved his hand and pulled the fallen student and the two closest injured people behind him. "You cold-blooded butchers..." With astonishing arm strength, he grabbed the first door panel and threw it like a discus. Clang! The flying car door, like a bowling ball, knocked over the row of mercenaries preparing to fire. The gust of wind frightened the mercenaries, making them fall to the ground. Seeing their comrade with a broken body, some became flustered and began to waver, and the front line became precarious. "Divine Emperor above, how strong is he..." The female sergeant whispered in amazement, watching Horatio throw an entire car door over ten meters to knock down a group. This was terrifying strength that even Loyalist soldiers with enhanced limbs could not achieve. She quickly regained her senses and issued combat orders. "Guns shouldered! Aim!!" At her command, all the Loyalist Heir Marines raised their Acartlan Recon Lasguns in a perfectly uniform motion, the dark muzzles pointing at the line of mercenaries. This scene caused confusion among the mercenary force on the opposite side. Some people began to whisper, looking at the Guild Alliance representative, their fighting spirit wavering. "What do we do? We promised to help you hold the intersection, but we didn't say we'd help you fight the Loyalist Heirs!" the Warmonger shouted in panic and dullness. "Don't be afraid! Everyone, hold the exit to the surface! That's just a show; they won't shoot! We are the Guild Alliance, the lawful government of Abyssal Port! No one would dare to touch us, not even the fleet!" The representative crossed his arms, tucked them into his chest, and completely disregarded the aggressive actions of the Loyalist Heir Marines. "Open fire!!!" In an instant, precise and deadly lasers shot together at the kneeling line of mercenaries. These lasguns, equipped on airborne troops, possessed fierce and surging firepower, with adjustable full-automatic and semi-automatic modes, a bullpup design, and long endurance, making them capable of easily handling close-quarters combat and suppression. The laser firepower instantly overwhelmed the mercenaries' net of fire. Many mercenaries were killed or injured, falling to the ground with cries of pain everywhere. Protected by bulletproof armor, some were not killed but were severely wounded, their bodies suffering heavy burns, emitting a foul smell of scorched flesh. Even with medical treatment, large amounts of flesh would have to be removed, and some might even be amputated, which would be enough to force many of them to quit this line of work. In less than a minute, the perfectly accurate volley caused one-third of the mercenaries in the line to fall. Already panicked by the door panel, they could no longer maintain their position. Most of them dared not return fire at the Loyalist Heir Marines, and even if some daring individuals did, they could not penetrate their strong carapace armor. Finally, the line of scattered mercenaries collapsed, and the mercenaries fled. The enraged crowd surged forward like a wave. "Don't come near me! You damned civilians! I am..." The Guild Alliance representative's legs went weak with fright, and he sat down on the ground. "Ah! Ahhh!" he shrieked effeminately, only to be stabbed through the chest by the enraged populace with a sharpened steel pipe, along with the "Guild Alliance Excellent Service Medal" on his chest. He was then decapitated by a crude chopping knife that whistled through the air. These weapons were originally the production tools and building materials of the mid-level workers, which had become knives, guns, swords, and halberds aimed at the powerful due to the unbearable pressure of life. *Splash* Blood spurted out like a fountain from the severed neck. On his powdered face, makeup mixed with blood. His terrified head, eyes rolling, was impaled on a steel pipe by the enraged people. The white fake curly hair, stained scarlet, fell to the ground, mixing with the blood and dirt. Whether the powerful or the common people, their blood flowed equally on the dirty ground. Only death could bring true equality. "Step down! Step down! Step down!" The protestors gathered again. The shouts faded with the receding crowd, and pedestrians reappeared on the street that had not yet been cleared. This did not mean they were safe. The people who protested for survival had left, and those who worked hard to live continued their labor. This was a place where millions of laborers earned their daily bread. Even though there might still be danger, everyone, for the sake of their livelihood, had to pretend nothing had happened and stubbornly conduct business and trade. Everyone living in the mid-level districts was a wage earner, pure laborers. Except for those who had completely given up, the mid-level residents were busy every day. With the escalation of the galactic war and the worsening situation in the Imperium, many workers who could not find factory work waited on the streets from as early as three or four in the morning to find odd jobs. Even though it was now afternoon, job seekers were still flocking to the White Street intersection. The mid and lower levels, without sunlight, were cold all day. Job seekers without work huddled in dirty coats that they had worn for who knows how many months. The wrinkles on their faces were filled with the hardship and sorrow of life, with no smiles to be seen. They squatted on the ground, causing severe traffic congestion. They worked day and night, an average of fifteen to sixteen hours a day, until their bodies were hunched. In this place with a distorted supply chain, no matter how much money they earned, they could barely sustain their survival. The Engel coefficient was frighteningly high, and in the end, they were still working for free for the material providers. It is said that the food carried by just twenty large Karak transport ships setting sail from agricultural worlds would be enough to feed everyone living in Abyssal Port. And every day, thousands of such ships dock at the ports of Abyssal Port. Although most of these supplies would be rerouted to other worlds, it was enough to make widespread famine virtually impossible on this planet, let alone a ridiculous situation like "500,000 for a loaf of bread." However, reality is like a cliché story, a dark Möbius strip that makes people cry and laugh. Regardless of the era, humanity's material distribution always falls into a distorted state with population growth. The upper-level inhabitants living on the mild and comfortable surface could casually throw away fresh food that the lower-level people could not afford into the sewage pipes, simply because they thought these things were not nutritious enough. In the crowded and cramped mid-levels, working 007 had become true "blessed" work – having a job on a factory assembly line was extremely precious. And thousands of meters below in the darkness, the unemployed lower-level inhabitants in tattered clothes would fight over a piece of moldy dough, even killing each other. As for the bottom levels, they were an unimaginable hell. Clearly, just twenty large transport ships could feed everyone, but under the invisible hand of "profit" and the manipulation of a bloated, slow, and extremely cumbersome supply system, a Leviathan called "unequal distribution" was artificially created. Corruption thus bred and spread. The Loyalist Heir Marines, without pause, immediately began to re-establish order, and the crowd did their best to give the Imperial Loyalists the honor and dignity they deserved. They began to calm down from their previous frenzy, no longer engaging in excessive behavior, only shouting slogans against the Guild Alliance. Bloodshed was not what these people wanted; they just wanted to cling to life, to ensure that their families, women, and children could fill their stomachs and not freeze to death in their sleep due to lack of heating. However, stagnant wages and continuously rising prices made these necessities almost beyond the average affordability of the mid-level inhabitants. And the Guild Alliance, as a commercial government, not only failed to stabilize prices, but the ever-increasing "survival necessities fee" only exacerbated the current situation. However, Horatio, who had now become an Imperial Loyalist Heir, would no longer have to endure such a dark and bleak life. He would serve the ruler of humanity on the Golden Throne with glory, possessing a future and destiny unimaginable to these commoners. "Quick, make way! Leave the area clear!" the female sergeant shouted through the loudspeaker array to the surroundings. Whoosh– Three shuttles flew down from the surface entrance where the mercenaries had dispersed. The protesting crowd, which had reassembled, had to scatter again, keeping away from the blasts of air. [Are they reinforcements from the Guild Alliance?] Horatio's hair was disheveled by the sudden strong wind. He looked up and, through the blinding searchlights, vaguely recognized the rose emblems of the Adepta Sororitas. The shuttles slowly descended, and several ropes were thrown down from the tail cabin. Soon, several tall female warriors in silver armor and black robes skillfully rappelled to the ground. "Please readers, keep following the latest chapters! Following is very important for new books and directly affects survival! Please vote for monthly tickets~ collect~ recommend~ (●｀●) 47. Chapter 47020047: The Emperor's Pure White Daughter Chapter 4702.0047: "The Emperor's Pure White Daughter" [Sister of Battle?] "Sir, are you injured?" A clear and holy female voice rang out from the strong light. A scent of roses and lilies wafted over, refreshing and reassuring. Horatio looked up and saw a tall woman in black robes and leather armor, clad in silver power armor with a golden trim on the edges. Unlike the Imperial Guard female soldiers who used bare-midriff tops and leggings to conceal female characteristics, the Sisters of Battle's armor had space reserved for their prominent areas. Two majestic "thrones" instantly captured Horatio's full attention. The beautifully designed power armor perfectly highlighted the sister's features. The characteristic holy hood of an Adepta Sororitas Hospitaller was on her head, beneath which was short, black, smooth hair. Contrary to the stereotype he had seen in the picture albums that "Sisters of Battle are all blond," her black short hair faintly exuded a noble and radiant luster. She looked to be in her early twenties, her fair and mature face exhibiting both feminine gentleness and intellectual sophistication, as well as otherworldly holiness. A perfectly placed beauty mark on the right side of the nun's chin, on her pure and flawless face, added a touch of delicate charm, making Horatio unable to help but recall Unit 2B from "NieR: Automata." Well, a black-haired Unit 2B. "Sir? Are you alright?" the Adepta Sororitas Hospitaller asked with concern. "I'm fine. Over there, there are seriously injured people in that vehicle." Horatio pointed to the van carrying bread. "Understood." The unidentified Adepta Sororitas Hospitaller picked up a professional medical rescue kit and ran towards the van, with Horatio following closely behind. "Where are you injured?" the Sister anxiously searched for the injured, while a medical servo-skull hovered in the air behind her, scanning everyone's body and transmitting the data to the data pad on the Adepta Sororitas Hospitaller's arm. "Divine Emperor above! It's the Emperor's daughter! Save him quickly, sob sob..." Seeing the Adepta Sororitas Hospitaller, the woman's tears gushed out, and she hurriedly made the Sign of the Aquila with her child. The Adepta Sororitas Hospitaller nodded in acknowledgment, then looked at the baker, whose face was pale. The baker's lips were white, and he mumbled weakly, "Ouch, my butt hurts." With Horatio's help, the Adepta Sororitas Hospitaller quickly helped the baker to get up.
"Eh, it’s already bandaged, and the bleeding has stopped very effectively…" The Adepta Sororitas Hospitaller murmured in surprise, eyes wide.
"I did a temporary bandage for him. Sorry, my technique is a bit rusty, but it should hold until we get him to the hospital," Horatio Cochran said with an embarrassed, wry smile.
"Sir, you did very well. Your emergency bandaging saved his life. Otherwise, he might not have lasted until now. The God-Emperor approves of your actions."
The Adepta Sororitas Hospitaller nodded respectfully.
Horatio knew this was the highest form of respect the daughters of the God-Emperor could offer to a mortal.
As several expanded capacity medical Valkyrie transports arrived, the medical team from the Navy Medical Rehabilitation Sector arrived. A team of stretchers was brought to the vehicles under the signal of the Adepta Sororitas.
"Sir, could you give me a hand?"
"My pleasure." Horatio and the Adepta Sororitas, one in front and one behind, moved the injured baker onto the stretcher.
Above, a Space Marine shuttle, laden with critically wounded soldiers and about to depart, hovered over them. A medical cable was thrown down from it.
The Adepta Sororitas quickly secured the stretcher and threaded one of the restraint straps through a hook on the power armor.
She tugged the rope twice, and the rope began to ascend slowly.
"Thank you for your hard work." Horatio respectfully said, watching the Adepta Sororitas, who resembled an angel, as she ascended.
"It is my duty. I am Adepta Sororitas Arabella. May the wisdom and virtue of the God-Emperor manifest on Earth, and may the wisdom and radiance of the God-Emperor guide your path forward, kind sir."
After this direct interaction, these Space Marines brought to mind Horatio's memories of the Adepta Sororitas.
He recalled that after the Age of Apostasy ended, the Adepta Sororitas had been divided into two great convents based on their faith, style, method of handling affairs, and political considerations.
One, Sanctuary of the Valorous, was located on a moon named Ophelia VII. It oversaw the Blood Rose Order, clad in crimson power armor, the Valorous Heart Order, clad in black power armor, and the almost ubiquitous 'poster girl' of the State religion, the famous 'Our Martyred Saint Order', the star of almost all propaganda posters.
The other convent was not as famous as Sanctuary of the Valorous. It was the Sanctuary of the Prophet, located on Terra.
The reason was also obvious—they were too calm, not fanatical at all, more like a subdued, female version of an Astartes Chapter.
Most importantly, they were almost beyond the control of the State religion, reporting directly to the Master of the Adepta Sororitas.
The Master, in turn, was one of the High Lords of Terra, theoretically equal to the Ecclesiarch.
This clearly defined relationship also made the sisters of Sanctuary of the Prophet unpopular with the possessive State religion.
But no one questioned the combat effectiveness of the sisters of Sanctuary of the Prophet.
According to the retired veterans from the under-hive who liked to boast to these children, the sisters of Sanctuary of the Prophet fought "like an Imperial Thunderhawk Gunship, slowly crushing the enemy's front lines. We have never seen such uniform line formations and volleys."
Another little-known fact was that only they, the sisters of Sanctuary of the Prophet, could hold the position of Master.
Sanctuary of the Valorous, for obvious, visual reasons: fanatical, but not rational enough. They could only serve as the second-in-command, the Assistant Master.
They also oversaw three sub-orders: the Ebony Grail Order, clad in black armor and white robes; the Silver Robe Order, clad in silver armor and red robes, the mother order of the current Master; and the Holy Rose Society, clad in silver armor and black robes, the one Horatio had just encountered.
The Holy Rose Society did not call themselves servants of the God-Emperor, but rather saw themselves as heralds of the divine will and rational spirit.
The entire order believed itself to be acting under the inspiration of the God-Emperor’s wisdom and was willing to strive to spread the God-Emperor’s glory across the galaxy, justified by faith, a concept completely contrary to the mainstream theory of the State religion.
The State religion spread fanaticism and personal worship, while the latter spread justification by faith and rational thinking.
The theoretical beliefs of the two were like fire and water. If the sisters of the Holy Rose did not have guns in their hands and the Sanctuary of the Prophet backing them, they would have been declared heretics long ago.
The struggle for followers and faith was no secret in the Abyss Port.
The affiliated hospital of the Holy Rose Society was located in the Abyss Port, opposite the Navy Department, and Horatio had seen it with his own eyes.
That gleaming silver holy tower pierced the clouds, spanning the middle and upper-heels, the largest and best 'Navy hospital' in the Abyss Port, and the training and novitiate headquarters for the Adepta Sororitas Hospitaller.
This was a legacy of the Gothic War.
In the early 41st millennium, to suppress the plagues created in the crucible of plague gods and to treat countless war casualties.
The Holy Rose Society, active in the eastern and northern territories of the Imperium, established a convent in the capital of the Gothic Sector, Abyss Port. As the strategic importance of Abyss Port grew, it gradually became the largest medical convent, eventually becoming the headquarters of the Medicae Convent of the Sector.
The Holy Rose treated the Navy's wounded, and the Imperial Navy spared no effort to send the Holy Rose and their faith wherever they wished to go in the shortest possible time, forming a peculiar symbiotic relationship.
The sisterhood was also a vast organizational structure, with many sub-orders under its purview.
The Adepta Sororitas Hospitaller belonged to the Medicae Convent. They were now both warriors and the best recognized physicians and nurses in the entire Imperium.
With the Galactic War intensifying.
Under the reforms of the future Master of the Adepta Sororitas, the 'Joan of Arc' of the 41st millennium, Movin Val.
The Adepta Sororitas Hospitaller were now also incorporated into combat formations, becoming part of Adepta Sororitas squads, and donning heavy force-feedback power armor.
Horatio solemnly saluted the sister with an Aquila salute.
"Horatio." A stern, resonant female voice called him back.
Pleas readers, keep following the latest chapters! Following is very important for new books and directly affects survival! Requesting monthly tickets~ Requesting collection~ Requesting recommendations~ (●｀●)There will be another chapter this afternoon!
48. Chapter 48
020048: Guide
Chapter 48.02.0048: "Guide"
"Senior." Horatio straightened his back and saluted the female sergeant.
"Are you injured?"
"By the Emperor's grace, no." Horatio replied solemnly with a proud smile.
The heroic female sergeant breathed a sigh of relief and patted Horatio's shoulder, which was fitted with a metal arm:
"You performed bravely today, worthy of the name Loyalist."
Immediately, she returned an Aquila salute to Horatio, and the other Loyalist Marines around them also saluted.
"Thank you."
*Whoosh*
A shuttle, with a sci-fi exterior and gilded crests, suddenly entered through the gap in the upper-heels.
Surrounding hovercars and Valkyrie transports made way.
The shuttle was also considerate, specifically choosing a corner to descend slowly, not interfering with the rescue.
The shuttle’s vector engines slowly angled to 90 degrees, descending gradually.
Once landed, two sections of tiered folding doors lowered.
Everyone nearby looked at the cabin door in unison.
"Could it be Lord Alexander Hood?" Two Loyalist Marines whispered.
"It must be? Who else would come here specially besides Lord Hood?"
*Click, clack.*
A series of steady footsteps sounded, and a tall man appeared before everyone.
The middle-aged officer had a well-proportioned build. Although there were some wrinkles on his face, he was still dignified and stern, with bright, energetic eyes.
He wore a naval uniform with a distinct Age of Sail style, adorned with golden stripes representing his rank on the edges.
A soft woolen bicorne hat was adorned with a pure white feather, and casually draped over the outermost layer was a blue-lined white, dignified, grand, and luxurious naval officer’s greatcoat. It was evident at a glance that this person had an extraordinary background and held a high position.
Sergeant Louise's eyes widened abruptly. Recognizing the newcomer, she immediately removed her helmet and saluted respectfully with an Aquila gesture.
"All hands, present arms, salute Lord Rear Admiral Edward Perru!"
*Click!*
All the Loyalist Marines snapped their rifles to a shoulder-borne position and gave a military salute.
The man raised his hand, signaling the end of the salute, and his gaze fell on Horatio.
"Hmm, Reserve Officer Cadet Horatio Cochran, we meet for the first time." The man greeted with a resonant voice, but his tone was not as stern as his appearance suggested.
This made Horatio relax.
"Your Excellency, greetings!" Horatio replied politely with a smile. "I truly did not expect you to come in person."
"You look just like your father. When your father was sent to my escort ship as a candidate officer with a letter of recommendation, he was about your age. Time flies, and you are already this old…"
The man had his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes filled with reminiscence of the past.
"I am ready to become a member of the Imperial Navy."
"Very good." The man nodded appreciatively. "Do you know what you need to do now?"
"Uh… strive to become a qualified Loyalist cadet!"
"That's not wrong, but I want you to aim to become an excellent Loyalist candidate officer."
"Certainly, sir!"
"We'll talk more tonight. I need to deal with this mess here first."
The man walked to the center of the area and cleared his throat.
"Citizens of the Imperium!" The man's resonant voice carried throughout the entire block without the need for a loudspeaker, like a captain issuing orders.
Surrounding people, some weeping, some burning with rage, some with indifferent expressions, all turned their attention to him.
"On behalf of the Imperial Navy, I express my deep regret for the bloodshed and sacrifice today, and I strongly condemn the perpetrators! Our brave Loyalist Marines have fiercely repelled the criminals who caused this vicious incident.
Citizens of the Imperium, violence is not the solution to everything. The Guild Alliance is a prime example of a very poor one, and the Gothic Fleet will always stand with loyal citizens of the Imperium.
From now on, our Marines will gradually take over the public order here. Please believe that whether it is the warships high in the sky or the soldiers patrolling the streets, the Imperial Navy will be the strongest shield for all loyal citizens of the Imperium! Starting this month, the Gothic Fleet will distribute emergency relief supplies to F-4 Sector and ten other similarly situated sectors to help loyal and law-abiding citizens of the Imperium overcome difficulties.
Our medical officers and holy sisters will provide free, complete medical and rehabilitation services to the injured in this incident, and will also provide shelter for children who have lost their parents. Please rest assured, trust His Divine Navy, trust the Gothic Fleet!"
Rear Admiral Edward Perru's speech may not have had flowery words or inflammatory appeal, but it was concise, powerful, and practical. Horatio looked around; many people were already in tears, kneeling and reciting prayers and titles of praise to the Emperor.
"Navy! Navy! Navy!"
And more people began chanting slogans in support of the Imperial Navy.
"To all you servants of the Imperium fighting on the front lines, well done. Thank you for your hard work."
Edward Perru saluted the Loyalist Marines, rescue personnel, and sisters present.
"We dare not say we've worked hard. We trouble Your Excellency to clean up the Guild Alliance's mess." The female sergeant replied solemnly.
"Someone has to manage Abyss Port. If leaving it to the Guild Alliance doesn't prevent trouble, then it has to be us." Edward replied with a graceful smile.
Horatio looked at the man. After secretly reading the log of the head of Fleet Intelligence Command, this sentence carried a rather special meaning to him.
"Let's go, Mr. Cochran. I never thought I'd be calling you by that name for over thirty years. Perhaps I should call you Horatio or young Mr. Cochran; I'm afraid I might mistake you for Thomas."
[Rear Admiral Perru personally came to pick him up...? What is the background of this Reserve Officer Cadet?] Amidst the astonished gazes of Sergeant Louise and others, Edward put his arm around Horatio's shoulders and walked towards the shuttle.
—After staying up all night discussing matters in the Vegas District, and learning that cultists were reaching for his own daughter, Major General Alexander Hood, in a state of extreme agitation, roughly pushed open the door to his study.
He turned on the chandelier, instinctively scanned the alarm systems, and nervously glanced around the study. Finding nothing unusual.
He slumped onto the leather chair with relief, rubbing his temples wearily, and closed his eyes to rest.
After a while, he opened his eyes and looked at the holographic star map by the window. The window was open, and a gentle breeze rustled the sheer curtains.
Suddenly, the man's brow furrowed.
He had gazed at the window several times while writing his log. The star map hadn't moved for a long time. Previously, the area directly facing him was the Kronus Expansion Sector, but now it had become the Eye of Terror, centered on Cadia.
[Someone has been in the study!] The man's eyes widened in fury, and he instantly stood up.
He walked over to the star map, his gaze falling on a slightly protruding book on the bookshelf next to it.
The old butler had OCD and almost used a ruler to measure the alignment of every book when organizing them.
But now, this book, which he hadn't touched in a long time, protruded about three millimeters more than the other books in the same row. While most people would overlook this anomaly, to the head of the Intelligence Command, it was glaringly obvious.
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