These enforcers raised no objections to the governor taking them to their deaths. Their duty was to collect taxes and protect the governor's safety. Without the shelter of the governor's authority, they would not have been able to survive on the industrial world either.
Every forced tax collection had offended far too many people. Too many across the industrial world wanted them dead. Without the governor's protection, they would have died in some filthy gutter long ago.
Faced with such a difficult choice, they could only choose the path with the greatest hope: continue following the governor into battle. If they could hold back the heretics' invasion, they would earn the right to live.
The governor put on the force-feedback power armor he had spent a fortune to acquire. He gripped a sharp Power Sword in one hand and a mortal-pattern Bolter in the other.
The governor had undergone extremely rigorous military training since childhood, so he was far from an ordinary man. In this world, no one dared underestimate him.
Once the governor had donned all his equipment, he strode resolutely toward the towering statue of the Emperor at the center of the war room.
He dropped to one knee, clasped the Power Sword tightly in both hands, and began a sincere prayer before the statue of the Emperor. When he finished, the governor slowly rose to his feet and strode out of the war room.
When he entered the corridor outside, he found three thousand enforcers already standing silently there, lined up in neat formation with solemn expressions. In addition, tens of thousands of riot-control troops stood ready, determination and resolve in their eyes.
The enforcers' equipment was first-rate. They wore heavy carapace armor and carried mortal-usable Bolters. They were also equipped with Storm Shields, flamers, heavy Lasguns,