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[Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor] Chapter 152/153
🕑 Added 2025-01-12 16:00:09 +0000 UTCEden couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in his chest.
Still, he held onto a sliver of hope as he scoured the vault.
He reasoned that the fleet commander, calculating as he was, wouldn't be foolish enough to kill off such valuable individuals as the heirs of the Govendi family.
For raiders like him, the bloodline of a Rogue Trader dynasty was as precious as their Warrant of Trade.
His instincts proved correct.
In a hidden chamber within the vault, Eden found a life support pod.
Silently praying, he instructed Webby:
"Check the pod. Ensure the safety of those inside before opening it."
Webby connected to the pod and conducted a thorough scan.
"Father, the life support system is fully functional.
The two individuals inside are healthy and ready to be awakened."
This was no ordinary pod—it was a high-end model designed to sustain life in perfect stasis for extended periods.
"Then wake them," Eden commanded, anticipation growing in his chest.
The pod's nutrient tubes retracted as indicator lights turned green.
The chamber opened with a hiss, releasing a cloud of icy mist.
As the mist cleared, Eden saw two children lying inside—a boy and a girl, seemingly around five years old.
The boy stirred first, groaning softly before turning to check on his sister.
"Are you alright, sister?"
"Brother!"
The girl rubbed her eyes, clutching her brother's hand as fear gripped her small frame.
"Don't be scared. I'll protect you!"
The boy puffed out his chest, recalling their father's teachings about the responsibilities of a Govendi man: to protect his family and his sister.
But his bravery faltered when his sister screamed.
He turned to see what had frightened her and froze.
A pair of sinister red eyes stared back at them, framed by the terrifying visage of a grotesque mask.
"Monster! Y-you stay back! I'm… I'm really strong!" the boy stammered, trembling but standing his ground to shield his sister.
"Whoa, no, no! I'm not a monster—I'm here to help!" Eden quickly stepped back, realizing too late that his experimental gas mask might have been too much for the children.
The mask, inspired by alien designs, was meant to intimidate foes and filter toxins.
But in this situation, it was clearly counterproductive.
Eden quickly removed the mask, tossing it aside, and offered the children his signature warm smile—gentle and inviting.
"See? I'm not a monster. Don't be afraid. I've defeated the bad guys who captured you. You're safe now."
The children stared at Eden, their fear gradually subsiding as they took in his appearance.
With his dark hair, sharp features, and kind eyes, Eden radiated an almost otherworldly charm—a charisma heightened by his divine aura.
"Are you really not a bad guy?" the boy asked cautiously, still on edge but clearly less hostile.
"Of course not. Do I look like a bad guy?" Eden straightened up, exuding confidence.
The children exchanged glances and shook their heads in unison.
At that moment, their stomachs growled in unison, breaking the tension.
The girl clutched her belly, pouting.
"Brother, I'm so hungry…"
The boy's stomach growled again, and he flushed with embarrassment.
Eden chuckled and snapped his fingers, summoning a floating food storage sphere to his side.
The sphere opened, revealing a selection of freshly prepared dishes, ranging from savory to sweet.
These delicacies, crafted by the Spire's finest chefs, looked and smelled as if they had just been made.
The children stared, wide-eyed, as the aroma reached their noses.
"Want something to eat?" Eden asked, picking up a steaming bun.
"This one's really good…"
The girl hesitated, her upbringing as a noble holding her back. Asking for food felt improper.
Finally, she murmured, "May I… may I have some, sir?"
"Of course!" Eden grinned warmly. "But first, you need to be polite. Call me Uncle."
The girl hesitated before softly saying, "U-uncle…"
"That's better! Polite children are the best," Eden said, handing her the bun and patting her head.
"Eat slowly, okay? Don't choke."
Turning to the boy, Eden raised an eyebrow.
The boy was clearly torn between his pride and his hunger.
"I… I want one too, Uncle!" he finally blurted, swallowing his pride in exchange for food.
"Good boy!" Eden laughed, ruffling the boy's golden hair before handing him a bun.
He also provided them with fruit juice, watching with satisfaction as the two ate ravenously.
The food and Eden's affable demeanor worked wonders. The children warmed up to him quickly, calling him "Uncle" with increasing familiarity.
Before long, Eden learned their story.
The children were indeed the last heirs of the Govendi dynasty, a prominent Rogue Trader family.
The boy was named Shahim Govendi, and the girl was Miliah Govendi.
The Govendi family's history stretched back to the Great Crusade, when they were granted their Warrant of Trade by the Emperor Himself.
They had thrived on the frontier, establishing a prosperous Rogue Trader kingdom.
But their ambition led them further into the galaxy's perilous depths, far beyond Imperial aid.
Their vast wealth and holdings eventually attracted the Tyranids.
Two hive fleets swept through their territories, annihilating their worlds and forcing the survivors to flee toward Imperial space.
On their journey, they were ambushed by Chaos warbands, who looted and slaughtered the fleeing Govendi remnants.
The family barely clung to survival, with their Warrant of Trade being their only remaining treasure.
Hiding in the sector, they attempted to rebuild in secret, but disaster struck again.
The sector governor's tax fleet discovered their presence.
Under the guise of taxation, the fleet commander ransacked the family's holdings and uncovered their secret.
To secure the treasure for himself, the commander slaughtered nearly every member of the Govendi bloodline, sparing only the twins.
The siblings were then placed in stasis and hidden in the vault.
As they recounted their harrowing tale, Shahim's eyes burned with tears of rage, while Miliah clung to Eden, sobbing uncontrollably.
Eden comforted them both, letting them cry until their emotions were spent.
Once they had calmed, he looked them in the eyes and asked solemnly:
"Do you want revenge?"
"Yes!" Shahim said firmly, his small face full of determination.
"As a man of the Govendi family, I won't give up, no matter how hard it gets!"
"Good," Eden replied, taking their hands.
"Uncle will help you get your revenge."
With that, he led them out of the vault.
(End of Chapter)
The cell door opened.
An interrogator stepped inside, secured the restraints on the Fleet Commander, and led him to the interrogation chamber.
Sitting on the mechanical torture chair, a faint, cold smile crept across the Fleet Commander's terrified face.
He knew that damned planetary governor was coming for him again.
The Fleet Commander was fully aware of his inevitable death.
In such a situation, he would neither hope for nor allow anyone to get their hands on his hidden treasures.
Especially the precious merchant license he had painstakingly stolen after slaughtering the entire Govindi family.
Of course, in the process, he had committed certain unspeakable acts against the family's women.
To lash out at the noble Imperial merchant bloodline had been an unparalleled pleasure.
After plundering the Govindi family, he orchestrated an "accidental" air crash to silence his accomplices and keep the treasure for himself.
The thought of the governor getting his hands on his hard-earned prize filled him with rage.
Thus, when the governor arrived, he would be "forced" to reveal the vault's unique passcode—luring the fool into a deadly trap.
This would be his final act of revenge, ensuring he died without regrets.
"Damn fool," the Fleet Commander muttered under his breath.
Eden entered the interrogation chamber briskly, his tone impatient.
"Have you thought it through? Quickly, tell me the passcode to the vault!"
The Fleet Commander figured the governor must have found the vault.
Putting on a resolute face, he replied, "Unless you pardon me, I'd rather die than tell you the code..."
He needed to act convincingly, dispelling any doubts the governor might have, and baiting him into the trap.
Pardon? He scoffed internally.
In the hands of his enemy, his life hung by a thread. Even if the governor promised him a pardon, he would likely renege on it in an instant.
After all, during the massacre of the Govindi family, he had promised to spare their remaining bloodline if they surrendered the license.
They all died anyway.
Eden asked again, "Are you really not going to talk?"
The Fleet Commander remained steadfast, shaking his head in silence.
He suppressed a smirk, ready to endure a bit of torture before revealing the "secret" to make it seem genuine.
"Sigh, such a steadfast man..." Eden sighed deeply, then turned to the interrogator.
"It seems we won't get anything from him. Kill him."
What?!
The situation was far from what the Fleet Commander had anticipated!
Seeing the interrogator raise an electric torture gun, ready to pull the trigger, the Fleet Commander panicked.
"Wait! I'll talk! The special passcode is—"
"I don't want to hear it."
Eden interrupted coldly, gesturing for the interrogator to gag the Fleet Commander.
He didn't understand—why?
Had the governor lost his mind?
Overwhelmed by the fear of death, tears and snot streamed down the Fleet Commander's face. He struggled desperately, but no words came out.
Regret consumed him. Why hadn't he revealed the passcode earlier?
Eden smirked coldly.
"Uncomfortable, aren't you? Good. That's the point."
He had been playing along the entire time.
Eden already knew the Fleet Commander's plan—to use the passcode to set a trap.
Unbeknownst to the Fleet Commander, the vault had already been emptied.
Eden leaned in close.
"Want to know why?"
The Fleet Commander nodded furiously, desperate for answers, even if it meant death.
But all he got was:
"I'm not telling you."
The Fleet Commander's struggles grew frantic.
Eden, unfazed, turned and left the chamber.
The interrogator injected a serum into the Fleet Commander—a drug designed to amplify physical and mental agony.
Then, they connected the electric torture gun to the chair.
Intense currents coursed through his body, inflicting unbearable pain.
The greater torment, however, was mental.
Riddled with endless regret, curiosity, and despair, the Fleet Commander would meet his end consumed by these emotions.
Why? Tell me!
He screamed internally as death closed in.
He would never get an answer.
Let him suffer.
It was what he deserved.
Outside the interrogation room, Sahim covered his sister's eyes, watching their enemy with hatred.
Ultimately, the Fleet Commander perished in anguish, his body reduced to charred remains.
"Let's go..."
Eden picked up the siblings and carried them out of the room.
Inside, the interrogators continued questioning other captured officers.
This operation had resulted in nearly two million prisoners.
Officers ranked lieutenant or higher would be executed.
Ordinary soldiers and crew members would be distributed across the planet for labor, contributing to Urth's construction.
Depending on their performance, they could eventually gain civilian status.
...
Two weeks later.
In the Tower Manor, an expanded and luxurious bathhouse...
Thumping DJ music filled the air.
"Blade rises to settle grudges, sleeves brushing under moonlight, the west wind scatters petals, resting on knives and swords brings no peace..."
On stage, lights flashed as a troupe of top-tier beauties from various planets performed an energetic dance.
"Ah, this damned but familiar feeling..."
Eden stretched lazily in contentment.
Taking off his sunglasses, he sat up and sipped juice from a nearby glass.
Since returning from the spaceport, he had settled the batch of top-tier beauties from the population transport ship.
Most were assigned to the Order of Battle Sisters under the leadership of the virtuous Maya.
The rest joined various groups within the Tower Manor—dance troupes, secretarial staff, or maid teams—to maintain its operations.
Watching the mesmerizing dancers, Eden couldn't help but sigh.
For the Empire's sake, he would silently endure this "burden."
(End of Chapter)
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