‘Acharya was far off the mark when he brought the fleet here, and it’s forced my hand. If we withdraw, our reputation will be worthless, and there’s half a dozen admirals lined up behind me just waiting to pull away the steps and take my place. We do not need a power struggle in the upper echelons of the Imperial Navy at this time. You think I’m a ruthless career-minded pig. In fact, those were your exact words, I recall.’
Kulik watched Price out of the corner of his eye, but the admiral was intent on the screen, eyes fixed, expression unmoving.
‘You are right, I probably am. But I am not a monster. Billions have died already trying to halt this greenskin tide. If we cannot hold them to a reverse now, all hope will be lost. I don’t care if we have to sacrifice the whole bloody segmentum fleet to win here, victory is the only option.’
The admiral wiped the sweat from his face with an embroidered handkerchief, which he stuffed up the sleeve of his coat.
‘When we have the fleets together, then we can discuss options. Until then, I request and require that you follow my orders to the letter. Believe me, it is our best chance to get out of this mess alive and with honour intact. May the Emperor guard you in the dark places where you must fight, Admiral Price.’
The screen went black. Kulik blinked a couple of times, trying to process everything he had just heard.
‘He didn’t seem so…’ Shaffenbeck let the thought drift away as Price turned a withering stare upon the lieutenant. ‘Shutting up now, sir.’
‘The fat oaf is right,’ said Price, lip curled with distaste at the fact. ‘Sooner or later we have to find out a way to destroy these moons, so we might as well start the job here. Damn Acharya, though, for going rogue. And damn Lansung for putting the bastard in charge of the coreward fleet in the first place.’
‘What are your orders, sir?’ asked Kulik, standing to attention.
‘I don’t know, yet. Decode the dispositions command and transmit to the flotilla. I’ll look over everything else and give more specific orders of battle once we are under way.’
‘So, we attack, sir?’ asked Shaffenbeck.
‘You heard the orders, lieutenant,’ said Price. ‘With immediate effect. Damn straight we’re going to attack, and damn our souls if we let the coreward take the glory!’
‘Arrogant, like you said, sir,’ said Esad Wire, better known to Vangorich as Beast Krule. ‘Veritus has taken chambers in the Ecclesiarchy dorms on the Western Projection. Hardly any security at all. Thinks that being on Terra, being an inquisitor, makes him invulnerable. No doubt the Emperor will protect him. Van der Deckart and his interrogator, Laiksha Sindrapul is her name, they’re a bit smarter. They’ve holed up in the Senatorum Rotunda until the conclave. There’re more guards there than at the Ecclesiarchy holdings, but nothing that would present a problem.’
Vangorich held up a hand to stop his Assassin’s report. Through the narrow window of his chamber — relinquished from the grasp of a lower overseer in the Administratum a few days earlier — the Grand Master looked over the turrets and roofs of the Imperial Palace’s northern stretches. In particular his eye was drawn to the dozens of chimneys that sprouted from behind the crenellations that capped the Tower of Philo. Amongst the grey smog was a slightly darker smoke, reddish in colour. It was, Vangorich knew, caused by the burning of cachophite incense, and was the signal agreed with Wienand that the two of them should meet at the Sigillite’s Retreat.
‘In short, none of them are beyond easy reach?’ Vangorich asked, standing up. Krule stepped to one side as the Grand Master headed towards the door. His hesitancy in replying caused Vangorich to stop and turn a suspicious eye on the Assassin. ‘That is the case, is it not?’
‘Machtannin has… gone missing, sir.’
Though his temper was tested, there was no point in Vangorich berating Krule for what had happened. They exited the chamber and entered the disused room beyond. A score of clerks had been moved to another wing following the relocation of their overseer, leaving rows of desks, each with illuminatorum screens and digi-quills still intact. A hexabacus had been left behind on one of the desks and there were a few personal belongings: prayer books and beads; an etchograph of a paternal-looking figure; a pair of fingerless gloves remarkable by their gaudily knitted pattern; other odds and ends of no import.
Old bare boards creaked underfoot as they passed between the empty work stations.
‘And Hurashi of the Culexus has been informed?’ Vangorich asked. ‘She will be ready with an operative should we need it?’
