Sweat glistened in the first rays of dawn, dripping down Horatio's cheeks onto the ground, while Sergeant Louise, clad in a Cadia crop-top training uniform, squatted beside him, counting.
He rigorously followed the Hellspawns' daily special training regimen: 100 pull-ups, 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and a 10-kilometer run in full Childer of Loyalty gear with a Ryza-pattern Hellgun.
Splash—splash—
"Faster, even faster!"
The cadets, organized into squads, propelled their arrow-like paddle boats in unison, training coordination, strength, and tacit agreement.
In the Roman theater-style classroom,
Several instructors used holographic sand tables and models to explain void combat tactical theories to the cadets, theories vastly different from those of the Ancient Terra Navy, covering engagement gun ranges, maneuver protocols, fleet turns, and plane adjustments.
Horatio listened intently, while Archie sat beside him, taking notes with a quill pen. If Horatio missed anything, he could always repeat it flawlessly.
Louise also sat beside him, and if there was anything she didn't understand, Horatio would explain it to her concisely and clearly.
Although Horatio came from 3K, through Machine Soul Affinity and encoded memory of textbook content, combined with his already outstanding comprehension, Horatio's absorption and learning speed were incredibly fast; he could remember things perfectly even without taking notes.
Buzz—
The rear hatch of the Valkyrie transport slowly opened, and a gust of wind roared in from both sides of the cabin.
Horatio, in near-orbit above Abyss Port, saw the beautiful planetary halo ring, matching the azure color of his eyes.
Valina, clad in full Storm Childer of Loyalty combat armor and wielding a plasma gun, wore a helmet due to the high altitude, with her proud red beret tucked securely under her shoulder plate.
She stood by the hatch without any safety harness, looking very dangerous.
Beep—
The parachute indicator light changed from a conspicuous red to green.
"Go! Go! Go! Go!" she urged, shouting.
Click, click, click!
Everyone unfastened their seatbelts in an instant. Louise, fearless, was the first to leap from the cabin, with Horatio close behind.
After the last person jumped out, Valina also leaped.
Horatio and Louise faced each other, spreading their limbs in a frog-like posture.
He gave a thumbs-up, indicating everything was normal.
Louise returned his thumbs-up.
"[+ Converge, Rapid Descent +]" Valina's voice came through the comms.
Hundreds of 'Hellspawns' undergoing near-orbit aerial assault training straightened their bodies in unison, heads and faces down, their altitude dropping rapidly. Due to the brutal and rigorous training, dozens had already dropped out due to injury or death, with individual squads even being completely reorganized.
Atmospheric friction rubbed against their carapace armor, while their thermal-insulating, flame-retardant combat suits and internal temperature circulation devices maintained the Childer of Loyaltys' body temperatures.
Altitude 10,000 meters.
Whoosh—two Thunderbolt fighters swooped down, rockets whizzing towards the ground target range, and two large Laser Cannons emitted dazzling light. The ground target range became a sea of fire—this was to clear the area for the Hellspawns.
Altitude 5,000.
Everyone changed their posture, and the gravity parachutes behind them began to spew deceleration from their wing engines, commencing a deep strike operation on the ground targets.
[Academic Credits +++++]—
"Sir, according to the information from the Military Prison.
Horatio's Group 13 will be the fastest deployable unit, and Henry Harvey's Childer of Loyalty Group 12 is also performing well in training," Lieutenant Commander Elphinstone said, entering the Military Intelligence Command office and saluting.
Inside the office, two senior officers were smoking, drinking, and discussing strategy.
The room was unlit, creating a suffocatingly oppressive gloom.
Rear Admiral Hood sat in the main officer's seat, while Rear Admiral Edward sat on a soft sofa. Upon seeing Lieutenant Commander Elphinstone, Rear Admiral Edward poured him a drink.
"Thank you for your hard work, Lieutenant Commander Elphinstone. According to the intelligence Horatio and we have gathered, several adherents of the foul evil gods have united, and the fuse of the powder keg has been lit; it will explode one day."
Rear Admiral Edward continued:
"The strange thing is that the mysterious fat man who attacked your daughter and Horatio has vanished as if into thin air. Our agents have lost all leads on him."
"And we've lost agents too," Lieutenant Commander Elphinstone added.
Rear Admiral Edward sighed wistfully.
"According to our reconnaissance, the PW15-S-21 residential area is still plagued by pestilence. If an antidote serum isn't developed, no matter how many people we send down, it will only be a death trap."
"What's the progress?"
"The Adeptus Mechanicus wise men and Fathers serving us have made good breakthroughs from the plasma donated by Sergeant Louise, successfully attempting to separate a small amount of serum from the plasma. But there's a drawback to this method," Rear Admiral Edward sighed:
"With current technology, just to produce enough serum for 12 people, simply drawing blood would drain Sergeant Louise dry. If she dies, we will lose our source."
"This isn't a long-term solution, and by this calculation, if Sergeant Louise dies in action, where do we get the serum from?" Rear Admiral Hood said, lighting a cigarette.
"This is also why I think it's better for Horatio to be by her side. He's quite capable. If something really happens, perhaps he can rescue Sergeant Louise, even if it's just her body."
"The PW15-S-21 residential area is on hold. You continue to investigate other leads. Lieutenant Commander Elphinstone and I need to properly sort out the Vegas District. Vice Admiral John Bean, head of the Fleet Development Department, has already issued an ultimatum. If a suitable plan cannot be produced this month, he will send Childer of Loyalty Marines to forcibly conquer this area."
"What foolish talk! How many tens of thousands of troops does he plan to spend to control such a complex area with a population of a billion people of all classes?"
"It is said that at least 300,000 troops are prepared to be sent down."
"At least 300,000?"
"The coastal infantry stationed in the nearby Navy Military Prison district, the Childer of Loyalty Marine, the armed boarding parties from sealed warships, armed Childer of Loyalty Marine, and the Adeptus Arbites with their leman russ."
"God Emperor!"
Rear Admiral Edward slapped his thigh, cursing as he stood up: "Does he want to turn the Vegas District into a battlefield?! The Imperial Navy wants the value of its port, not a ruined wasteland!"
"Even turning it into a battlefield might not secure control. Parts of the Lower Hive have complex terrain, and we lack understanding of it. Moreover, the gangs there are extremely vicious, engaging in cannibalistic cult practices. Even concentrating forces in such narrow passages, we wouldn't be able to deploy our battle lines, just like the Thermopylae in Ancient Terra legends," Lieutenant Commander Elphinstone said, lighting a cigarette and analyzing:
"The battle will become a meat grinder. With the enemy's intelligence on the terrain and their informants' advantage, our personnel's advantage in training and equipment will be hard-pressed to overcome the disadvantages. The theoretical casualties for occupying one-fifth of the area..."
His two colleagues looked at Lieutenant Commander Elphinstone, who specialized in data analysis: "It won't be less than 100,000, and every year we'll have to send an additional 100,000 people to maintain stability and control in the occupied areas. And we will eventually set sail, but the gang members can brew and launch attacks 24 hours a day, seizing and devouring controlled areas."
"What about Horatio's former gang influence? Wasn't he the 'King of the Port'?" Rear Admiral Hood asked, frowning.
"Are you suggesting? To use Horatio's former influence to help us control the entire Vegas District?" Lieutenant Commander Elphinstone chuckled.
"He is the fleet's blade; he must pierce the heart of the enemy for the Imperial Navy," Rear Admiral Hood replied with a grim face.
"But there's a problem: his former influence was severely weakened after his capture and has been declining. Moreover, he is already a glorious Navy Heir. Publicly letting him go back to run a gang, this kind of practice..." Lieutenant Commander Elphinstone shook his head, hesitating to speak, his gaze and demeanor already indicating that this would not be a good idea.
"Utilize his gang's underground intelligence network; the rest will be handled by the Hellspawns.
As I told you last time, this is a feasible and most cost-effective solution, far better than sending Childer of Loyalty Marines into a meat grinder."
Rear Admiral Edward said to Lieutenant Commander Elphinstone: "Since everyone has no objections, I will find an opportunity to speak with Horatio. Next time, have Horatio report to the Fleet Military Intelligence Command for work."
"But he is only a probationary Sergeant, his rank is not high enough to enter..." Lieutenant Commander Elphinstone stopped mid-sentence, understanding, and smiled politely.
Indeed, as the descendant of Admiral Spire and the son of Chief Lieutenant Commander Kirkland, as long as he is alive and ambitious, becoming a General in the Gothic Fleet is only a matter of time.
Letting him participate in departmental major affairs doesn't seem inappropriate. Anyway, the heads of the Military Intelligence Command seem to trust him quite a bit, quietly helping him accumulate academic credits.
As Baron Keith, Elphinstone naturally understood. As a noble, he smelled the potential political overtures within.
Lieutenant Commander Elphinstone smiled playfully.
The sunlight from outside the window shone on the perfectly pressed general's dress uniform, the golden tassels and magnificent medals glittering.
Rear Admiral Hood's slightly turned face was in shadow, gazing at the fully armed, disciplined Hellspawns formation on the parade ground.
"The Imperial Navy has no time, and no patience, to reason with those who provoke us," the Rear Admiral said.
Rear Admiral Edward and Lieutenant Commander Elphinstone exchanged glances, then rose together and raised their glasses in salute. Rear Admiral Hood raised his glass in return, the wine in it swirling like blood.
"The Imperial Navy's enemies have only one choice, and that is to die."
A startling dry thunder ripped through the sky, illuminating the previously dim Military Intelligence Command office, casting the figures of the three men onto the ground like three intertwined sharp swords.