Warhammer, I'm a nanny, not your father!

"I got you!"

A hunter-like sneer appeared on the corner of Corax's mouth. His slender fingers slid across the control panel, and a series of commands were issued.

The energy hub of the orbital elevator emitted a dull hum, and the steel cable suddenly tightened, completely blocking this road to the sky.

At the same time, glaring red warning lights lit up at the spaceport's berths.

All berths were closed, and at the berths where spacecraft were already docked, huge robotic arms clamped them all firmly to the docking platforms with a hydraulic force of tens of thousands of tons.

No one may leave or enter the spaceport now without Corax's orders!

Wop: "You don't seem happy?"

"I just think it's too easy." Corax shook his head. He had thought that capturing the spaceport would be a brutal siege, but unexpectedly, this battle was even simpler than when he captured the Black Tower.

The spaceport's defenses were practically useless, and the defenders offered no decent resistance from beginning to end.

Even until the end of the battle, a large number of soldiers were still stationed at their posts in a daze, completely unaware of the war happening before their eyes.

The whole process went too smoothly, so smoothly that it made him uneasy and he began to suspect a conspiracy.

Wop smiled and said, "Corax, you still underestimate the complexity of human nature."

"The technical guilds on Kiavar maintain a large garrison in the city. They're not defending civilians, but other technical guilds."

"The current state of the spaceport is a perfect balance of power. If any tech guild monopolized the spaceport, it would be attacked by other tech guilds, so no one dared to monopolize it. Maintaining a large garrison at the spaceport is prohibitively expensive and prone to accidental clashes, so we simply maintain a moderately relaxed atmosphere."

"If there's no external invasion, two thousand defenders are more than enough to suppress the workers. Even if there is an external invasion, deep space early warning will detect the enemy in advance, and it won't be too late to send reinforcements from the ground by then."

Corax: "But the only thing they didn't expect was the attack from Lycaeus."

In Chiavar's eyes, Lycaeus's slaves were probably not even as good as an ant. Who would be willing to guard against an ant alone?

Besides, there are supervisors on Lycaeus, so why should the spaceport worry about it?

The tail flames of the engines ignited outside the porthole were reflected in Corax's pupils. The two warships were like beasts breaking free from their shackles, tearing open the dark curtain of the universe.

The robotic arms on their docks remained dormant, a loophole deliberately left by Krax.

Neither warship dared to fire at the spaceport because it was the private property of the Technology Guild.

The situation was still unclear, and they did not dare to take responsibility for opening fire. They were still trying to contact the tower and explained to the tower that they were leaving only to ensure their own safety, but the tower's response was slow to arrive.

The rebels are short of manpower and find it difficult to effectively control three warships. Taking all of them would only be a stretch, so it would be wise to keep only one.

"The weapon system has locked onto the target and is awaiting the order to fire." The servitor's voice was even colder than the machine itself.

Hundreds of servitors controlled all the contemplators in the command tower, and their efficiency was much higher than that of mortals. However, they had difficulty distinguishing friend from foe and could only mechanically follow the commander's orders.

As for who is the commander, they don't care.

Corax's fingertips touched the control panel, issuing commands with silence instead of words.

The spaceport's defense array suddenly roared, and the blazing white flames from the macrocannons instantly engulfed the two warships, tearing them into countless burning metal wreckages that rolled silently in the vacuum.

The battleship has sailed out of a safe distance, and the exploded metal wreckage spread silently in the void, like a blooming flower of death, but it will not affect the spaceport.

"Lord Corax, we are late."

Sharokin and Agapito almost staggered into the command room, both of them were exhausted and out of breath.

"Agapito, leave a thousand men to guard the command center. Sharokin, take the others and follow me."

Corax walked between them without looking back, leaving the two of them staring at each other.

What did they miss?

Chapter 114 PUA (5K)

"boom!"

Lasers and cannonballs intertwined into a web of death in the narrow corridors of the battleship, and Corax's figure wandered among the shadows like a ghost.

He always appears where the enemy least expects him, breaking down the enemy's defenses with efficient killing.

"Crack!"

Corax's hands suddenly tightened, and the violent force instantly tore the captain's body apart.

The entire spine was forcibly pulled out of the torso along with sticky blood plasma, and a few trembling nerves were still hanging between the broken joints.

The head drew a scarlet arc in the air, and before it hit the ground, the spine shot out like a javelin, piercing the helmsman's throat and nailing him to the console.

Corax hates killing.

He would rather resolve the dispute peacefully, but the higher-ups of the battleship were all from the technical guild. Killing them would be the end of it, but not killing them would lead to endless troubles.

"Sharojin."

Corax's gaze swept across the bridge, where broken limbs were still twitching under nerve reflexes, and sticky blood plasma meandered like rivers on the deck.

His voice was like a knife tempered with ice: "Take over this place."

Sharokin, who arrived late, nodded with his jaw set tight, a feeling of frustration washing over him like a tide.

Why am I always so slow? Why can't I catch up to Corax? Why can't I always help?

……

The 7th standard hour since the rebels occupied the spaceport.

The metal hatch slowly opened with the sound of hydraulic pressure. Blaney shouted in the sealed cabin filled with prisoners of war, "Who can fly a spaceship? Is there anyone who can fly a spaceship?"

The rebels acted hastily in an unfamiliar spaceport and had no time to distinguish who were the workers and who were the officials of the technical guild. They could only treat everyone as prisoners and put them in the cargo hold that was temporarily used as a prison cell.

But at this time, facing this group of strangers, neither the workers nor the officials dared to respond, otherwise who knows what the consequences would be?

"I, I can."

Just as Blaney was about to turn around and head to the next cabin, a trembling figure suddenly stood up from the crowd.

He was a middle-aged man with a pale face. His knees were shaking, but he was trying hard to stand up straight.

Blaney's eyes swept over the man's oil-stained work clothes. "Are you a worker?"

"Yes, sir."

The man stumbled forward, his metal joints making a harsh grinding sound.

Only then did Blaney notice the rusty mechanical prosthesis on his right leg. The joints were hastily reinforced with wire, and the hydraulic pipes were exposed. It was obviously a scrap piece removed from someone else's body.

"When I was young, I worked as a sailor in the Deep Space Trade Fleet for more than ten years. I also drove a cargo ship for a while. Later, I retired due to disability and became a worker."

Blaney believed that he was a real worker and that the work clothes he was wearing could belong to someone else, but this leg could not be forged temporarily.

Blaney pulled him out of the cabin and asked in the corridor, "What's your name?"

"Will, sir."

"Britney Nate, you can call me Britney because my brother's last name is Nate too."

Britney stretched out her hand, and Will stared at it blankly. After a long time, he hesitantly raised his rough hand.

Britney: "Can you do us a favor?"

Will tapped his rusty prosthetic arm. "If I were to drive a cargo ship, even though I still remember how to operate it, my skills would probably be very poor."

Blaney pulled the corners of his mouth into a self-deprecating smile: "It's enough if you can drive. There's not a single person among us who can drive a boat."

Britney noticed Will's hesitation and said, "Ask whatever you want to ask. If it's not confidential, I can answer you at my discretion."

Will looked up at Blaney's tactical armor and asked, "Who are you?"

Branny: "Lycaean."

"Overseer?" Will was surprised and didn't seem to understand why the Overseer wanted to occupy the spaceport.

"A dozen hours ago, we were still slaves."

Will's Adam's apple rolled a few times. "You overthrew the Overseer's rule in just over ten hours, and then occupied the spaceport?"

"That's right." Blaney raised her head, with undisguised pride in her voice.

Will spoke with difficulty, "Then, then the nuclear bomb of Kiavar is also, is it you too?"

"It was us. Five atomic mining charges in total, delivered to Kyaval via a gravity well."

Will's pupils trembled violently, and his jaw froze in mid-air as if it was about to dislocate.

In less than a day, they overthrew the overseer's rule, occupied Lycaeus, seized the spaceport, and even launched a nuclear attack on Chiavar. This completely overturned Will's cognition!

Will swallowed hard. "Did...did you want me to bomb Kiaval?"

"Don't worry, there's no danger in asking you to help. You used to drive a cargo ship, and now you just need to help us transport the goods."

Will slowly lowered his head, and even he himself couldn't tell whether he felt relieved or lost.

If he could be given the opportunity to bomb the Technology Guild, he would be willing to do it even if it meant letting him fly a bomber and drop bombs!

"I can do this job." Will nodded. "Even though my leg doesn't work well, I promise I won't cause any trouble for you."

Britney: "Will, do you know anyone else who can drive a cargo ship? Even someone who can repair it would be fine."

Will shook his head slowly. "I do know some people who can help you find someone, but honestly, the chances of them supporting you are slim."

A hint of confusion flashed in Britney's eyes: "Why?"

Will: "Because they have families, because they can't believe you can win."

Britney: "Then why did you help us? You didn't have to stand up."

"I believe you are good people. You didn't kill innocent people when you seized the spaceport." Will tapped his rusty prosthetic leg. "Do you know how my leg was broken?"

Britney: "Technology Guild?"

Will rubbed his knees, his eyes suddenly sharp: "Yes, a young master from a technical guild!"

"Because you blocked his way?" Blaney's eyes were full of sympathy. His father was beaten to death and vomited blood because he blocked the supervisor's way. He eventually died.

Will squeezed out a few words from between his teeth, each syllable drenched in hatred: "Because he stole my wife and returned her to me with only a bruised corpse!"

Britney paused her hand on Will's shoulder, then finally withdrew it silently.

Since Will was able to become a cargo ship driver in the past, his family background must have been out of the category of lower-class civilians. Teacher Wop calls such people the middle class, and they live a relatively decent life.

But in the eyes of the technical guild, both the middle class and the lower class are the same.

……

Wop: "What was Chiavar's reaction?"

"No response. They seem to have not yet realized that the spaceport has fallen into our hands."

Corax stood before the Thinker terminal, examining the flickering comm signals one by one. The silence on the screen was unsettling.

"How could they not have noticed?" Agapito lowered his voice.

"Unusually quiet," Corax declared. "They're planning something."

After occupying the spaceport, he repeatedly deduced the possible countermeasures that the Technology Guild might take.

Ultimately, three possibilities were identified: military deterrence, diplomatic negotiation, or silence.

The threat of force exposed the folly of the Technical Guild, and when the rebels were clearly at the upper hand, the threat only hastened their demise.

Diplomatic negotiations reveal the fear of the technical guild, which is why they express their willingness to compromise with the "slaves".

Silence is the most dangerous signal.

The fact that the nuclear strike was carried out through the gravity well undoubtedly sent a fatal signal to the Technical Guild: Lycaeus had fallen.

The loss of the spaceport made the situation even worse.

If they had any brains left, they would definitely take the initiative to seek peace talks.

The Technology Guild's silence is more disturbing than any response, meaning that they are secretly mobilizing their forces, preparing to launch a fatal blow.

The spaceport would inevitably become the primary target, as Chiaval would not be able to bypass it to attack Lycaeus.

Wop: "Or they're still arguing about it."

"That's too stupid."

Corax had also considered this possibility, but he found it hard to believe how a person could be so stupid.

Wop curled his lips in disdain. "That's your standard. In their eyes, you might be feeling smug about your own brilliant decision."