Tormaggedon Monstrum Rex boomed its name into the darkness. But it did not stop.
It passed so close by the Armaduke, the frigate shivered hard in its wake, and it kept accelerating, driving out along the unvariable and away, developing speed and translating into the warp. Gorehead, yapping at its heels, followed.
By then, the Necrostar Antiversal had fled through the outsystem and away, wailing in blind pain, and the corpse of the Ominator was tumbling down into the fires of Tavis Sun.
THIRTEEN
Turn Around
Dorden took a deep breath. Tension and fatigue had put a tiny tic in the corner of his right eye and a tremble in his liver-spotted hands. Rawne was struck by how grey the old doctor’s skin had become. It reminded him, painfully, of the skin paint used by the sleepwalkers of the Gereon Untill, and of the wood-ash dust that the old nalwoodland communities of Tanith had used to anoint bodies for funerary rites. He’d never made that connection before. He made a point of not thinking about Tanith unless he had to.
‘He’ll live,’ said Dorden.
Rawne nodded. He looked down at Cant. The trooper was unconscious, in a chemically-induced coma, his neck wrapped in bindings and counterseptic wadding. His face was drained of blood, colourless white rather than Dorden’s dead grey. Dorden and the new man, Kolding, had worked for two intensive hours to save Cant’s life. No one could yet tell what brain damage might accompany the catastrophic blood loss of the throat wound.
Rawne patted Dorden’s arm.
‘There’s nothing I could do for the others,’ Dorden said.
Rawne didn’t turn to look at the wrapped corpses of Kabry and MkTally. Two Kings dead, another severely wounded. They had paid a high cost already guarding the pheguth etogaur. And that was without counting Edur and the crew personnel, and the poor bandsman fool that the Sirkle must have slain on Menazoid Sigma in order to worm his way into their midst.
‘Get some rest,’ said Rawne.
Dorden laughed. The infirmary was busy. In the aftermath of the void fight and the commotion aboard, there had been a lot of minor injuries: a few concussions and broken bones. There was still work to be done.
Kolding was nearby, washing Cant’s blood off his hands in a metal sink in preparation for the next patient.
Rawne walked over to him.
‘I understand the technique that saved him was your idea,’ he said.
Kolding stared at Rawne. He wasn’t used to being spoken to or even acknowledged by many of the regiment.
‘It seemed expedient,’ he managed to say.
Rawne nodded. He held out his hand. Kolding blinked. He hesitated for a moment, because he’d only just got his hands scrubbed ready again. The hesitation was too long. Rawne lowered his hand, and nodded.
‘It’s appreciated,’ he said, and walked away.
Ban Daur entered the medicae suite, squeezing past the walking casualties queuing for treatment.
‘Where is she?’ he asked the orderly Chayker.
Chayker pointed.
Elodie was sitting on a cot in the corner, her arm in a tight, packed sling, a compress against the back of her head. Rawne watched Daur cross to her, kneel beside her, embrace her gently. Dorden had said that the woman had torn shoulder muscles and taken a mild concussion catching the child. Brave. Selfless. There were more reasons than just good looks to admire Elodie Dutana. Rawne kept watching as they spoke quietly. He assumed she was telling Daur what happened. Rawne tried to remember the last time anyone had looked him in the eyes the way she was looking at Daur.
Down the far end of the infirmary unit, where it was quieter, Criid and Juniper were sitting with Yoncy while Curth checked the child over. The little girl was perched on a cot and seemed to be enjoying the attention. There was no indication she had been remotely upset by her adventure.
‘I owe you,’ said Kolea, coming up beside Rawne quietly to stare at Yoncy.
Rawne shrugged.
‘I was protecting the Archenemy feth-head, not the little girl,’ said Rawne.
‘Right.’
They both tensed. Meryn had just walked out of the side ward where he’d been checking on Costin’s graze wound. Criid had crossed to Elodie and Daur to murmur a few words, and she turned as she saw Meryn.
‘Ah shit,’ said Kolea.
Criid walked right up into Meryn’s face. They could feel the hatred radiating off her.
‘You didn’t take the shot,’ she hissed.
‘What? Tona?’
‘Don’t give me Tona, you spineless idiot. You had a shot and you didn’t take it.’
‘What? That bitch tell you that?’ Meryn sneered back, jerked his head in Elodie’s direction.
‘No,’ said Criid. ‘Juniper told me. Juniper said you just kept your coward head down.’
‘She’s a fething liar.’
Criid went for his throat. They crashed into an instrument stand and scattered a stack of steel bowls. The bowls clattered across the deck. Some of the civilian casualties started to wail in alarm.
‘Not in here!’ Curth roared.
Kolea and Rawne stormed forwards and got hold of Criid. She fought back in a frenzy of arms and legs as they pulled her away from Meryn.
‘Get off me!’ she shrieked.
‘He’s not worth ten hours in the tank, Criid,’ Rawne growled.
‘He’s not,’ agreed Kolea.
Criid stopped thrashing and shrugged Kolea and Rawne off as they relaxed their grip. She glared at Meryn.
‘You saw what she did!’ Meryn cried. ‘I want her charged!’
‘Grow some testicles and shut the feth up, Meryn,’ replied Rawne.
Meryn pointed angrily at Kolea.
‘He didn’t care! He’s the fething blood-father. He didn’t attack me!’
‘I was just pulling Criid out of the way,’ said Kolea.
‘What?’ asked Meryn, puzzled.
Kolea’s axe-rake of a fist slammed Meryn into the infirmary wall. The impact demolished a wire shelf and smashed a row of glass bottles.
‘Have you all lost your minds?’ Curth yelled. ‘This is a sick bay. Stop it!’
Working together, Criid and Rawne managed to pull Kolea’s muscle-dense bulk off Meryn. Meryn had his arms over his head and face. Blood was squirting out of his nose. When he realised the fists were no longer raining down, he began to get up, slipped, and then rose to his feet. Kolea lunged at him again, but Daur had joined Criid and Rawne to act as anchors, and they wrenched Kolea back between them.
‘What in Throne’s name is going on in here?’ Hark demanded as he pushed into the infirmary.
‘It’s just a misunderstanding,’ said Rawne, hauling Kolea back.
‘Yes,’ Criid agreed. ‘We thought Meryn was a human gakking being, but we misunderstood.’
‘They were attacking me!’ Meryn squawked. ‘There are witnesses. Charge them!’
‘It won’t happen again,’ Rawne said.
‘There are witnesses!’ Meryn insisted, outraged.
‘Show me one,’ said Rawne. He looked around the room, at the shocked faces of those present. ‘Anyone?’ he caught Curth’s eye.
Curth shook her head.
Hark frowned.
‘Will this happen again?’ he asked.
‘No,’ said Kolea.
‘No,’ said Criid. ‘We’re done.’
Daur punched Meryn square in the face and laid him out on the deck.
‘Call her a bitch again and I’ll gut you, you Tanith bastard,’ he said. He looked at Hark.
‘Now we’re done,’ he said.
With the fight finished, the Armaduke had closed with the fleet. Packet and cargo exchanges were underway, with lighters ferrying supply loads across. Small ships were also attending the two wrecked Imperial ships in search of survivors.