In the dilapidated hover-car, Horatio sat beside Louise, both of them watching the Inquisitor, who had his eyes closed in meditation, across from them.
"So, what intelligence did you gather, Inquisitor?" Horatio asked.
The Inquisitor opened his eyes, looking a bit weary, rubbed his temples, and let out a long sigh.
That mysterious ability seemed to drain one's mental energy considerably.
He wrote a string of coordinates on a piece of paper and handed it to Horatio.
"These are the coordinates of an altar. The individual he called the 'Meat Lord' will soon conduct a blasphemous ritual, and the center of that ritual is this altar.
If that bald Chief Priest is connected to these Corpse Guild sects, then he must know something, at least enough to deepen our understanding.
Do you know anything about this 'Corpse Grinders' cult?"
"Initially, it was believed to be a form of cannibalism, first emerging among the Lower Hive corpse collectors employed by the Corpse Guild.
They were originally tasked with the arduous job of recycling the dead from the lower levels of the Hive City into corpse starch, but under long-term suppression, these people, forced by their livelihood to collect corpses, sometimes abandoned reality.
They lost their sanity amidst the howling of meat saws and the grinding of bone mills, becoming empty shells consumed by hunger, perfect vessels for the touch of Chaos to corrupt. This group gradually developed into an Cultist.
By eating the flesh cut from their bodies, one would fall and become part of them.
The method and means of spread are practically a special attack against the hungry and cold Lower Hive people, with efficiency as high and fast as that of Tyranids / Tyranid, which enabled them to launch such a large-scale terrorist attack yesterday."
As an Inquisitor of Ordo Xenos, Inquisitor Ravenor certainly knew what Tyranids / Tyranid were.
The vanguard of the Tyranids / Tyranid Hive Fleet, the damned polluters of humanity's sacred gene, the abominable infiltrators, and one of the most troublesome opponents for Ordo Xenos today.
"So, if I'm not mistaken, the Howling Teeth Gang is a front used by this cult in its spread to the Middle Hive."
"Spreading corrupting tendrils, filthy and evil sores, to the Middle Hive."
"It seems we'll have to go down further," Inquisitor Ravenor said, his brows furrowed.
"But with just a few of us going down, it's a dead end; we wouldn't even be enough to fill their teeth.
And in that dark, twisted, complex environment, a small number of Imperial Guard and Naval armed forces simply cannot deploy a battle line.
Unless we override all objections and mobilize several large-scale legions to conduct a full advance according to standard siege tactics, the more people who go down, the more casualties there will be, reducing investigation efficiency, and potentially even allowing the target to be alerted and escape in time."
He met Horatio's gaze: "It's time for the Naval Special Operations Command to act."
"Perhaps we also have an allied force skilled in operating in such environments who could be an excellent helper," Horatio said thoughtfully, then smiled mysteriously.
"Who?"
"The Blood Angels Second Company 'Purebloods'; they are masters of assault operations, the death angel of the God-Emperor, and their combat power is beyond doubt."
"I do know there's a Blood Angels battle barge undergoing refit in the port, but I must remind you that while my authority theoretically allows me to mobilize Space Marine squads to serve me, this is one of the nine original founding chapters with a long history."
Inquisitor Ravenor said with a wry smile: "Even though I am an Inquisitor, their deployment requires the approval of the Chapter Master. This is because the Chapter Master is my equal in rank, and it is the custom between the Inquisition and the Space Marine.
Am I to make a special psychic call to Chapter Master Dante, who is far away on Baal, for this matter? And even if I send an application, I think it would be difficult to get a timely approval in response; by then, the entire investigation might be over."
"I think I can handle the request for Blood Angels assistance."
"You?"
The Inquisitor and his attendants all laughed indulgently, as if hearing some ignorant child innocently speaking of clear and foolish prospects. Their fatigue from the operation instantly vanished.
"Mr. Cochrane, I don't mean to belittle you, but you are only a Midshipman.
It's true that you are the blood descendant of Navy Admiral Spire, but your ancestor was, after all, only a Navy Admiral, and he is already missing.
Of course, I mean no harm; I just want to say.
In the Imperium, there are thousands of active Navy Admirals, and many of them have blood descendants.
If every descendant of a Navy Admiral could 'request' them to handle some trivial matters, wouldn't the Space Marine Chapters become 'mortal nannies'?
Not to mention a venerable, glorious, and honorable founding chapter like the Blood Angels Chapter; they are very busy and don't have time to spend effort on such minor matters that mortals can handle. In their view, this is a complete waste, like using a cannon to kill a mosquito."
"You don't need to worry about these things. I can't guarantee much else, but I am confident I can call one or two Blood Angels."
"I think, to deal with these Cultist, perhaps even one Blood Angels' combat power should be enough, if you can truly bring them.
In my opinion, having Naval Special Operations Command carry out this mission is already sufficient, though there might be some casualties."
"Every single Hellspawns is determined to die for the God-Emperor."
"But my subordinates have sacrificed enough recently."
Inquisitor Ravenor stared intently into Horatio's eyes.
[He's serious.] He narrowed his eyes, discerning the young man's conviction and stubbornness.
"Horatio, we're fine. We're ready to jump into hell at any moment and offer our hearts to the God-Emperor," Louise said to Horatio with solemn determination.
"'Life is the God-Emperor's currency; treat it well.' I know you are not afraid of death, but I also know how hard it is to watch friends die before your eyes.
I think, perhaps your value should not only be realized by dying in combat against the dregs of Cultist."
"Alright, I sincerely hope we can get Space Marine assistance, and I will do my best to help you secure it," the Inquisitor said, his smile gone, his expression serious.
"Thank you, Inquisitor," Horatio said with a polite smile.
Although he said this, he thought to himself that he probably wouldn't need the Inquisitor to bring up the matter for him.
He planned to go to the Avenging Blade himself later to try first.
Inquisitor Ravenor leaned back in his seat, resuming his meditation.
He was very curious where this young Midshipman got such confidence and assurance to be able to summon the legitimate direct successors of The Ninth Legion, which had existed since the Great Crusade.
Could it be that he had overlooked something? —
"One, two, three!" Horatio and Louise, one at each end, called out, working together to carry a heavy table into the office.
He clapped the dust from his hands and also took a rag, helping Louise wipe the tabletop clean.
"I can do it myself."
"It's fine. Leave it to me. This is your duty plate," Horatio said.
He placed the nameplate, which read 'Special Operations Division Executive Officer' and 'Investigation Team Search Officer,' on Louise's desk.
Currently, the Special Operations Division has added quite a few people.
Lord Lieutenant Sterling is the head, serving as the Special Operations Division Chief Officer and Public Relations Officer.
The second in command is Horatio himself, serving as 'Special Operations Division Dispatch Officer,' responsible for coordinating and dispatching all resources.
He also serves as an 'Investigator,' investigating all suspicious situations that could potentially threaten the Navy, as issued by the Military Intelligence Command and the Fleet Security Committee.
Louise and Horatio are in the same office.
Horatio's desk faces the door, while Louise's desk is perpendicular to the door, arranged in an 'L' shape.
Having become a Navy Sergeant Major, she serves as the Special Operations Division Executive Officer.
She is the only Captain who can command the entire Hellspawns in Horatio's place.
When Horatio doesn't have time to handle situations on the front line, she is responsible for going to the front line.
Midshipman Henry Harvey, he and the Lieutenant are in the same office, serving as Deputy Dispatch Officer for the Special Operations Division.
He is responsible for assisting the Lieutenant's work, and when Horatio is on the front line and the Special Operations Division receives a dispatch order, he communicates with Horatio to handle the Hellspawns' deployment issues.
In short, only one of him and Horatio needs to be at the Special Operations Division headquarters to prevent emergency dispatch orders to the Special Operations Division.
Archie Cuthbert Collingwood, who is a few hundred points shy of becoming a Midshipman, and Mr. Bernard, the Ministry of Internal Affairs representative, are in the comprehensive data room opposite.
Archie serves as Chief Assistant Officer, managing documents and data with Secretary Bernard, and undertaking auxiliary sorting work.
There are also two empty spots reserved for Lydos and Fidio, who are still in the Navy Medical Ward.
They were both injured in previous battles, but in advanced medical stasis pods, their recovery would be quite fast.
In the Imperium, as long as a person doesn't die on the spot, they can definitely be brought back within a few weeks.
"Speaking of which, whose spot is that in the lounge next door? Miss Hood's?" Louise asked curiously, looking at the carved wooden door to the room next to Horatio's seat.
That door led to a lounge that every office was equipped with, but now it also had quite a bit of office equipment moved into it.