Kozelian was already very old.
He had lived a long life, having become an official in the sector government when the Thunderhawk Empire was first founded.
Kozelian had not been a competent official at first. In a government crawling with the children of nobles, an illiterate man like him was quite the oddity.
But after Kozelian single-handedly talked an entire gang of scum from a Hive City's Underhive into surrendering, no one dared underestimate him again.
Now Kozelian had become one of the most important figures in the Eastern Fringe's government, with a dedicated Biologis and Inquisitor monitoring his physical condition and loyalty.
Kozelian was already very old, but he was still doing what little he could.
He still could not forget the figure who had smiled and helped him to his feet a century ago. That man had saved him and his adoptive father.
Every time Kozelian saw him, his brow was furrowed, as though something weighed on his mind.
All Kozelian could do was work even harder to repay that kindness.
At present, there were many matters that needed Kozelian's attention.
The first was the threat of the Tyranid Hive.
The great devourer had set its sights on the Thunderhawk Empire, and the tendrils of Hive Fleet Leviathan were advancing toward Cabalide without pause.
The Thunderhawk Empire had always devoted itself to snatching people from the Xenos and the Imperium of Terra, then turning them into productive manpower.
In the eyes of the great devourer, this was excellent news.
Previously, all that food had been scattered here and there. Running back and forth left the Tyranids half-starved, and after making the rounds, their tendrils shrank rather than grew, with masses of Tyranids starving to death.
Now things were better. The food had gathered itself in one place.
Once