Eyes narrowed for a moment, Lansung saw the trap being laid out for him. With an agility of thought far beyond any physical act he might perform, the admiral side-stepped quickly.
‘To conceive of the plan that will bring us victory will be reward enough, Master Vangorich. Like yourself, I would rather not draw attention to my efforts. There are many fine admirals in the Segmentum Solar deserving of a chance to earn proper respect and renown without my interference.’
Vangorich knew that his first strike had been hasty and clumsy and he regretted the attempt even as he smiled at the Lord High Admiral. His mind was racing, seeking some parry to Lansung’s counter-argument.
‘Noble, very noble, admiral. Yet your modesty endangers the Imperium. I would not have us send a lesser commander simply for the sake of history’s recognition. One does not leave a better balanced and sharper blade in its sheath because others have not seen such frequent use, and I think you do yourself a disservice by squandering your capacities here in the Senatorum when battle calls to your most precious talents.’
Lansung’s fixed smile grew genuine and Vangorich realised that he had missed his mark again. The admiral clearly knew that if he was physically removed from Terra his grip on the Senatorum would be lessened. Vangorich was trying to prise just a little finger away from the vice-like fist that Lansung currently maintained, and the benefit of interstellar distance would be considerable. There was even the chance that he might actually die in battle, though everything Vangorich knew about Lansung suggested he was vain and ambitious, but never a physical coward. His service record was very impressive, as was the ruthlessness that underpinned it, and Vangorich would not be able to make any accusation of that ilk. The admiral knew this and easily deflected the suggestion.
‘The commanders that will be chosen will have served under me for many years, Grand Master.’
I bet they have, thought Vangorich.
‘It is they who have been serving directly against the foes of mankind these past years and are best placed to enact our strategies against the Beast,’ Lansung continued. ‘A degree of detachment, physical as well as emotional, is required for command, my dear Vangorich. I would have thought you understood that as well as those of us who have war in our blood.’
Vangorich had to concede the point with a superficial nod. He was irked again that Wienand was not there to exploit what he could not see, but there was no point wasting time wishing for things that were not to be. The eyes of the other High Lords were upon him, showing a mixture of sympathy and impatience. He would not be indulged much longer and had to take a different approach.
‘I must defer to your superior wisdom in this instance, admiral.’ Vangorich took a petty but encouraging satisfaction from the tic of annoyance in Lansung’s eye whenever the Grand Master did not use his full title. No matter what happened next, Vangorich could still get inside Lansung’s head when he needed to. ‘Like the others, I am on tenterhooks. Please, furnish us with the details of your plans so that we might debate and approve them.’
‘When the latest intelligence has been compiled, I shall lay before this council every facet of the coming strategy.’ This was pure dissembling and Vangorich knew that he had lost this round. ‘Until such a time, I would think it wise that the council airs its desires and aims for the coming offensive, so that the voice of all shall be heard and taken into account.’
This was nothing short of open invitation for the assembled senators to bring out every time-worn axe to grind again, to air every slight and disagreement brought forth in previous gatherings.
Vangorich stifled a sigh of boredom. This was going to be a long council. He would be sure to make Wienand regret her decision to be absent.
Aboard the Adeptus Mechanicus ship there was stalemate.
‘Out of the question, Captain Koorland,’ said Magos Biologis Eldon Urquidex. The tech-priest’s telescopic eyes lengthened an inch, the closest equivalent to a glare that the man could muster. Secondary tool appendages waved disapprovingly around his midriff. ‘In the absence of data the most obvious course of action is your transit to Terra, or perhaps Mars. You are, in no vacillating terms, the last of your Chapter. Not only is your physical personage highly valued, both for physiological investigation and purposes of wider military morale, but your first-hand experiences of this latest orkoid threat are invaluable. There is, to be clear, nobody else like you in the galaxy at this moment in time. To even consider returning you to a position of active combat duty would be reprehensible.’
