Each Lucifer Black wore enamelled black carapace armour over a deep woven mesh of anti-ballistic threads. Those that entered the hall bore shock-glaives — long polearms with silvered blades. Tall helms and mirrored visors concealed their faces. Their presence, in such numbers, demonstrated not only Lansung’s personal resources but also signified unity between the Imperial Navy and the Astra Militarum.
This was a dangerous thing to Vangorich and he was surprised the other High Lords had allowed it to come to pass, jeopardising their own positions. Such displays of cooperation would have been unthinkable a century ago. The Imperial Army had been disbanded, the Legiones Astartes broken asunder, to prevent any one individual wielding the overwhelming power of fleet and ground troops. Now Lansung was flouting such measures, using the ork attacks as an excuse to override the old arguments and objections to such hoarding of military force.
Four hundred strong, the Lucifer Blacks split to move around the circumference of the large chamber, a score remaining by the open doors with blades raised to form an honour arch for the entering senators.
Lansung was the last to arrive, a roll and crash of drums and the climax of the clarions announcing his presence. Above, amongst the smog of incense that hung constantly beneath the dome, vast chandeliers carved as flights of ribbon-trailing cherub-like figures holding burning torches blazed into light, banishing the gloom that had previously filled the room.
Into this brightness stepped Lansung, the medals on his broad chest glinting, the gold of his brocade glistening.
Though still corpulent, the Lord High Admiral’s considerable frame showed signs of being slowly eroded by his busy schedule of late. His jowls hung a little looser, his chins wobbled a little more with skin than fat. Vangorich estimated that Lansung had lost twenty, perhaps as much as twenty-five pounds, in recent weeks, and wondered whether the stress of such politicking was taking a toll in other ways. Whatever the cause, the loss of weight could not be overlooked. Certain compounds, toxins, stimulants and soporifics had to be administered in precise doses relating to the target’s body mass and Vangorich would have to take this into account if his plan for the coming conference did not bear fruit and more drastic measures became necessary.
It was no coincidence that Lord High Admiral Lansung had chosen this venue for his announcement. Probably more than half of the names circling the hall were of starships; such was the nature of war in an interstellar empire. The echo back to Dorn holding council with his brothers was also a striking image to be exploited.
With a magnanimous wave of a ringed hand Lansung invited his fellow High Lords to sit down at the ornate table sitting somewhat lost in the middle of the vast chamber. Vangorich found his place towards one end amongst the other lesser participants, though this was of no surprise. He had always been fascinated by the physical representations of more abstract concepts like power and influence, and the seating arrangements of any Senatorum conclave were a study in the principles.
Somewhat more surprisingly, Lansung chose not to sit at the head of the table as Vangorich had expected, but settled between Tobris Ekharth, the Master of the Administratum, and the Speaker for the Chartist Captains, Juskina Tull. They were close enough to the head of the table to make it clear they were in ascendance, but nobody claimed the empty chair that would once have been occupied by the Sigillite or Dorn during their long councils.
On reflection, Lansung’s positioning made some sense. Vangorich knew that the head of the Imperial Navy was about to announce a fresh offensive against the tide of orks encroaching upon the Segmentum Solar — and assumed the other High Lords were equally informed — and such an expedition would require considerable supplies and logistical support. By choosing to associate himself with the Administratum that would provide those supplies and the merchant fleet that would carry them, Lansung was elevating the status of both organisations above even the Astra Militarum and the Adeptus Arbites who had thus far been waging much of the fight against the barbarous greenskins.
Sat on the opposite side, at the far end, Vangorich’s own position was almost as far away from Lansung as was possible whilst still remaining at the table. Only poor Hektor Rosarind, the Chancellor for Imperial Estates, was further away from the seat of power.
