[In the second week, guided by the old navigator, you retrieved the target planet that Wald had pre-set in the logbook of the armed cargo ship.]
[The old navigator's gnarled fingers had traced across the faded entries, stopping at a particular destination. His weathered face had creased into something between a smile and a grimace as he pointed out the coordinates.]
[That was a primitive, technologically advanced planet called Savor.]
[This place has not yet been incorporated into the territory of the human empire, but has been occupied by a group of technological oligarchs for countless years.]
[A world outside Imperial jurisdiction, ruled by tech-lords who answered to no one but themselves and profit. The kind of place where anything could be bought or sold, provided you had the right currency.]
[You decide to continue the arms transport mission and do other things after arriving at that planet.]
[The armed cargo ships you see today have undergone a major overhaul.]
[The transformation had been dramatic. What was once a flying deathtrap, held together by rust and desperation, now resembled an actual functioning vessel. Clean corridors, maintained systems, air that didn't taste like recycled misery.]
[Both the sailors' living conditions and the environment and sanitation have been greatly improved.]
[Therefore, all the sailors were willing to obey your commands, almost submitting to your personal charisma.]
[Loyalty purchased with food, dignity, and fair treatment proved far stronger than loyalty enforced through fear and starvation. The crew moved with purpose now, their steps energetic rather than shuffling.]
[You decide to take advantage of the extended time the ship will be on route.]
[Train and arm the sailors on board your ships, quickly transforming them into an asset to your cause.]
[The training began in earnest. Combat drills in the cargo holds, weapons practice with the las pistol you'd retained. The sailors were weak from years of malnutrition, but determination could compensate for much. And with proper food, strength would return.]
[In the third week, after repeatedly navigating the perilous subspace, the armed cargo ship finally arrived at the planet Savor, guided by the old navigator.]
[Under the constant persuasion of your two trusted sailors, "Big Head" and "Old Bones," you reluctantly paid the port entry fee.]
["Captain, it's just the way things work here," Big Head had insisted, his oversized cranium bobbing earnestly. "You don't pay, they don't let you dock. Simple as that."]
[Old Bones had nodded agreement, his frame somehow managing to look persuasive.]
[Those were a batch of laser weapons that you had pre-selected, but weren't in very good condition.]
[The rifles were functional but worn, their power packs holding charges that probably wouldn't last more than a few dozen shots. You'd marked them for disposal anyway. Now they served as currency.]
[You have successfully obtained a temporary local trade permit and the furthest docking location from the trading site, granted by the tech oligarch.]
[You were wearing that old power armor, with a gray hooded cape that barely concealed your tall, imposing figure.]
[You lead a group of sailors equipped with laser weapons, escorting the remaining military cargo across the harsh, dusty landscape of the planet Savor.]
[You soon discover that, aside from its harsh environment, the planet Savor boasts a surprisingly thriving commercial market.]
[The market sprawled like a metallic growth across the desert floor. Structures of varying heights and designs clustered together in apparent chaos, connected by walkways and power cables. Lights flickered and signs glowed in dozens of languages, advertising wares from across the galaxy.]
[Technological artifacts from almost any other alien race in the universe can be easily found here.]
[This includes standard-issue explosive guns from the Human Empire, as well as fragmented star-dart guns from the unknown Eldar, and other similar alien weapons.]
[Even your enormous size wouldn't be considered particularly conspicuous in an environment teeming with howling green-skinned orcs, shimmering Thales, and other alien races.]
[You even unexpectedly stumbled upon the renowned traveling merchant of the Milky Way.]
[A short, alien race called Stryxis, clad in black cloaks, is haggling with several human traveling merchants, occasionally letting out a sharp, piercing laugh.]
[You couldn't help but tighten your grip on the xenos short spear tucked behind your waist.]
[You also subconsciously realized what was happening and slowly released your grip.]
[Drawing weapons in a neutral market would be suicide. Every merchant here likely had backup, security, connections. Starting violence would end with your corpse decorating someone's stall.]
[Just then, a sudden gust of sand swept past your tall frame, unexpectedly lifting your gray hood.]
[An unknown alien and a human inadvertently spotted your seemingly gleaming bronze bald head, part of the interior of the commercial market.]
[You pulled your hood back on, quickly concealing your face.]
[You cautiously scanned your surroundings, and finding that you hadn't attracted much attention from the alien creatures.]
[You couldn't help but take a deep breath and continue leading your sailors to transport the munitions and cargo.]
[Your current identity is merely that of an unknown wandering merchant; perhaps you'll even have a side role as a space pirate later.]
[This planet is not part of the human empire; you must learn to adapt to local customs, and the best way to survive is to remain inconspicuous.]
[Following the clues left behind by the great traitor Wald, you successfully located the wandering merchant who was exchanging arms with an armed cargo ship deep within the trading market.]
[The other party is a subspecies of human whose exact age is indistinguishable from their appearance, with excessively pale skin and naturally colorless, transparent eyes.]
[You hesitated for a moment, then stepped into the shop and began to chat with the other party.]
[You initially thought that changing the trading partner at the last minute would cause some unnecessary trouble with the delivery of goods.]
[However, the pale-skinned human subspecies merchant rogue trader seemed to have been mentally prepared for Wald's disappearance.]
[He even thoughtfully raised the price of your goods by 10%, explaining that this was to celebrate your escape from the miserly Wald's exploitation and to celebrate the birth of a new wandering merchant.]
[You expressed your gratitude to the other party, and you also intend to obtain some necessary supplies and information from them.]
[You have successfully utilized this batch of arms goods acquired through a cost-free transaction.]
[In exchange, they received a batch of aging servitors that could still be exploited, as well as enough food supplies to sustain the armed cargo ships for five years.]
[Just as you were about to ask this pale-skinned traveling merchant if he possessed the human empire's explosive weapons, or other powerful enough individual xenos technology.]
["Captain! Something terrible has happened!"]
[Big Head, the trusted sailor who had been standing guard outside the merchant's shop, suddenly burst in, panting, and yelled at you.]
["Up in the sky... Oh no, the damn aliens have invaded!"]
[You blinked in confusion.]
[The words didn't make immediate sense. This planet was already filled with aliens. What did he mean by invasion?]
[You subconsciously met the gaze of the pale-skinned traveling merchant in front of you.]
[The merchant's transparent eyes had gone wide. All color, what little there was, drained from his already pale face. His mouth opened slightly, revealing teeth that seemed too sharp.]
[You casually drew two strange short spears from behind your waist and gripped them tightly in your palms.]
[You then propelled your power armor out of the door and onto the dusty street.]
[You suddenly craned your neck, straining to look upwards at the sky filled with yellow sand.]
[At this moment, terrifying alien ships, each several kilometers long and covered in black metal spikes and enormous flails, almost filled the entire sky above the planet.]
[At the same time, both human and alien ships anchored at the starport were completely destroyed by black electromagnetic storms that rapidly extended outwards like lightning branches.]
[Countless pieces of ship debris rained down on the surface of Savor like a dense meteor shower.]
["Terra above! Om Messiah above! Rangda warships! The Rangda are here!"]
[Just then, the wandering merchant, who had just poked his pale head out of the shop, suddenly let out a bloodcurdling scream filled with anguish and despair.]
[He was about to turn and flee towards the back of the shop when you, reacting swiftly, stepped forward and grabbed his slender neck.]
[You abruptly pulled back the gray hood covering your bald head, revealing a slightly glowing bronze face.]
[You stared blankly at the distorted expression of the wandering merchant, and growled through gritted teeth.]
["Stranger, my friend! For the sake of fellow countrymen in Terra... I've requisitioned your armory!"]
Thank you for your support!
There is very little information available about Rangda, so I can only make assumptions based on the available information.
I actually think the galaxy during the Great Crusade should be a universe similar to Star Wars, but of course, due to the nature of Warhammer, it would be darker and more survival-of-the-fittest.
For example, there may be humans or other weak alien races who are sold into slavery at will, and there may even be some hybrid races of humans and aliens.
Even from the perspective of other alien races, I think this kind of universe is quite vibrant, if it weren't for Chaos, that troublemaker.
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