[You, expressionless, support the middle-aged man whose legs are weak, and slowly walk towards the end of the ship's corridor.]
[You've just indirectly learned the other person's name, Wald.]
[He was the captain of this armed cargo ship, a struggling third-rate merchant rogue trader barely scraping by.]
[You are the only survivor he successfully rescued from a pirate ship that recently ran aground.]
[Based on the other party's ramblings, it seems you were previously attacked by some kind of terrifying xenos, and all the human pirates on the ship were torn to pieces, their blood and flesh scattered throughout almost the entire interior of the ship.]
[Wald, who originally intended to become a Void Scavenger, encountered you, who were living in a daze.]
[He only came to see you now that you're gradually regaining your senses to deal with the ordinary sailors in the lower decks who are trying to instigate a riot.]
[After a brief consideration, you immediately agreed to their request.]
[You also made requests for better living conditions and food.]
[The cunning traveling merchant, Wald, agreed to all your terms without hesitation.]
[You gazed intently at the other person.]
[You smiled faintly, turned, and walked towards the lower decks.]
[Shortly afterward, you successfully arrived at the lower deck, where both the living conditions and air quality were far worse.]
[The stench hit immediately. Unwashed bodies, stale air recycled too many times, the underlying rot of poor maintenance and desperate poverty. The lower deck was a different world from the mid-level cabins, cramped and suffocating.]
[You've just stepped into the lower decks, and a group of thin, human sailors, resembling modified servitors in their emaciation, have gathered around you.]
["Hey! Did that old miser Wald send you?" Just then, an ordinary sailor, wielding a simple stick, revealed his bony, emaciated chest and looked up at you, asking in a sarcastic tone.]
[The man was all ribs and anger, his chest concave with starvation. The stick in his hand trembled slightly, whether from weakness or rage was unclear.]
["If you're willing to return to your posts, I can pretend you were never here," you said, scanning the fearless sailors before you, trying to keep your tone calm.]
["Ha! Don't think we're afraid of you just because you're tall! We're going to start a riot, to rebel against Wald's disgusting authority!" another sailor, so thin he was practically just a big head, yelled at you, his bloodshot eyes almost bulging out of their sockets.]
["That old miser Wald is making us human crew members do work meant for servitors! And he's not even feeding us properly! Most importantly! There are blood-sucking xenos monsters in the lower decks! If we stay here any longer, we won't even survive!"]
[The accusations poured out, each grievance building on the last. The sailors' voices rose in volume and desperation, a chorus of the exploited finding their courage in numbers.]
[At that moment, the sailor wielding the makeshift stick suddenly raised the only weapon in his hand and let out a furious roar at you.]
["Either you kill us now, or you shut the hell up!" Before the words were even finished, everyone's eyes were fixed on you.]
[The tension hung thick in the recycled air. Every sailor stood rigid, waiting to see if violence would follow. They'd thrown down the challenge. Now came the moment of truth.]
["I think I understand, and I understand part of the situation..." You nodded expressionlessly, your bronze bald head catching what little light existed in the dim lower deck.]
[You immediately turn and walk towards the upper level of the lower deck.]
[The tall, mysterious figure, appearing and disappearing like the wind, left the sailors and crew, who were planning a riot, completely bewildered.]
[Not a single one of them was willing to step out of the lower decks.]
[Confusion rippled through the gathered sailors. They exchanged glances, uncertain what had just happened. Was this a trick? A trap? Had they just won, or were they about to face something worse?]
[Minutes crawled by in tense silence.]
[A few minutes later, you stepped back into the lower deck, carrying Wald's bloodied head in one hand.]
[The sight froze everyone in place. Blood dripped from the severed neck, leaving a trail of dark spots across the deck plating. Wald's face was locked in an expression of terminal shock, eyes wide and unseeing.]
["From today onwards, I am the captain of this cargo ship... Does anyone have any objections?"]
[You casually tossed Wald's terrified head at the feet of the crowd; the head rolled around for a long time before slowly coming to a stop.]
[The wet thump of the head hitting the deck was the only sound. It rolled awkwardly, leaving a smear of blood in its wake, before finally settling at the feet of the sailor who'd challenged you moments before.]
["Personally, I believe a ship at sea can be without a captain, but it cannot be without a large crew!"]
["From now on, there will be no exploitation, everyone will do their job, food will no longer be rationed, but no waste will be allowed..." you said, narrowing your eyes.]
[The pronouncement hung in the air. A new order, declared over the still-warm evidence of the old order's end.]
[At this moment, the sailors and crew who intended to incite a riot gradually and hesitantly approached you, bowing respectfully.]
["Good morning, Captain!" everyone shouted weakly.]
[Their voices lacked strength, worn thin by starvation and years of abuse. But submission was clear in the bend of their backs, the lowering of their eyes.]
[You squinted and took a deep breath.]
[You pulled the two oddly shaped, xenos-looking short spears back from your waist.]
[The silver weapons gleamed as they emerged from beneath the grey cloak. Their alien design caught the light strangely, throwing off reflections that didn't quite match the angles.]
[The next second, the sailors and crew who had just surrounded you scattered rapidly in all directions like startled wild animals.]
[Panic seized them instantly. They'd seen what you'd done to Wald. The xenos weapons in your hands promised something worse than a quick beheading.]
["Why are you running! Didn't you say there were blood-sucking xenos monsters in the lower decks? Where was the last known location?" You surveyed the startled crowd with a blank expression, your bronze bald head seemingly reflecting the light in the dimness.]
[Understanding dawned slowly. The weapons weren't for them. Relief and embarrassment warred across gaunt faces.]
["Captain! This way, please!" A group of thin sailors exchanged glances and then hurriedly approached you, their obsequious smiles seemingly impossible to conceal.]
[The transformation was complete. From rebels to loyal crew in the space of minutes, all it had taken was one severed head and a promise of fair treatment.]
[In the first week, you successfully took control of this cargo ship.]
[You unexpectedly discover that the wandering merchant Wald has no trusted confidants or helpers on board his ship.]
[Even the only navigator, an old man, laughed heartily at the other's tragic death.]
[The old navigator's cackle had echoed through the bridge, genuine mirth at his former captain's demise. No tears, no protests, just laughter and relief.]
[This is why Wald asked a strong, complete stranger for help in quelling the sailors' riot.]
[For the next period of time, you led a group of well-fed and refreshed sailors, whose spirits had been completely lifted, to clean every dark corner of the armed cargo ship.]
[Food made all the difference. Proper rations transformed the skeletal crew into something approaching functional humans. Energy returned to wasted limbs. Eyes cleared. Morale soared.]
[Together, you conducted a systematic purge of the ship's depths.]
[The creatures had nested in the darkest recesses, feeding on whatever they could catch. Their elimination had been messy work, but necessary.]
[The Sinophian Boreworm uses a dozen or so corpses as its hatching nest; if discovered any later, it would trigger a swarm crisis.]
[The nest had been found behind a sealed bulkhead, corpses arranged in a horrifying circle around pulsating egg sacs. Another day, maybe two, and the ship would have been overrun.]
[There was even a large mass of Xothian Blood Locust eggs mixed in with the transported goods.]
[Fortunately, the former captain, Wald, was too stingy and did not choose to replace the insulation in the cargo hold after it failed.]
[The cold temperatures indirectly inhibited the growth rate of the Xothian Blood Locusts; otherwise, none of the sailors on the entire armed cargo ship would have survived.]
[Of course, your gains go beyond simply eliminating these potentially deadly threats.]
[Among the numerous arms shipments transported by Wald, there was surprisingly a set of Mark II Crusade Power Armor, riddled with battle damage, though the legion paint scheme had been completely polished away.]
[The armor sat in a forgotten corner of the cargo hold, scarred and battered but unmistakably Astartes manufacture. Someone had gone to great lengths to remove all identifying marks, grinding away the legion colors until only bare ceramite remained.]
[This Astartes-specific equipment, which ordinary people could never access, somehow ended up in the hands of a rogue merchant.]
[The question of how Wald had acquired it would remain unanswered. His head was long since disposed of, dumped into the void with the other refuse]
[However, you do not have the plasteel connectors needed to attach the power armor.]
[This Mark II Crusade is not a force-feedback type of mortal powered armor.]
[You're not entirely satisfied.]
[You don't feel very safe with your flesh and blood body without the protection of powered armor.]
[With the help of some of your trusted sailors, you were forced to don this Crusade Power Armor.]
[The process was awkward, requiring multiple crew members to lift and position the heavy ceramite plates. Without the proper connectors, the armor sat heavy and unresponsive against your body.]
[You unexpectedly discover that your strength and physical abilities are perfectly capable of withstanding the strain of this extra weight.]
[The realization came slowly. The armor that should have been crushing felt... manageable. You could move, could walk, could even run despite the tremendous burden. Your muscles strained but held.]
[You were initially overjoyed, then gradually fell into a state of deep thought.]
[Joy faded into contemplation. The implications were troubling. No ordinary human could bear this weight unaided. The armor was designed for transhuman warriors, gene-forged and enhanced beyond mortal limits.]
["Who... could I be?" you wondered silently.]