Kulik looked over the admiral’s shoulder at the schematics to refresh his memory on the strategic situation.
‘It is risky, sir, but it will place us in an ideal position to form up for an attack on the ork base,’ said the captain. ‘I really think Lansung intends to go for it as quickly as possible.’
‘None of this makes sense,’ complained Price, tossing the report back onto the table. He stabbed a finger at the playback rune and Sheridan Villiers’ distorted face sprang into life.
‘Stand ready to receive personal messages from the Lord High Admiral. For the eyes and ears of Admiral Price only.’
Kulik and Shaffenbeck both stepped towards the door but were halted by a wave from Price.
‘I certainly don’t care if you listen in,’ said the admiral. ‘If this is about Acharya it’ll save me the bother of telling you myself.’
Villiers’ elongated features disappeared, to be replaced by the bloated face of Lansung. It struck Kulik that the monitor controls had somehow malfunctioned, ballooning the one into the other. Lansung’s cheeks wobbled and his chins rippled as he spoke.
‘Listen here, Price. I know we have our history together, and I won’t say that I’ve forgotten or forgiven. But that doesn’t matter for the moment. That damned idiot Acharya has put the reputation of the Imperial Navy in jeopardy. Yes, I know what you’re thinking — it’s my reputation really, yes? Well, it’s yours too, Price. I don’t know why, or how, but someone got to Acharya and either persuaded him or forced him to make this attack. There’s going to be hell to pay for him when this is over. He’ll be lucky to command a garbage scow if he survives the judgement of the court martial he’s got coming. Anyway, that’s not of concern yet.’
Lansung shifted his bulk, moving further from the vid-capture unit. He splayed his hands across his chest, which bulged between the gaps in his buttoned coat.
‘We can’t afford to lose here, Price. It’s not common knowledge, but the Imperial Fists took a pounding at Ardamantua. They were almost wiped out.’
Kulik heard Shaffenbeck gasp at this admission, and was shocked himself.
‘We need a victory and damned quick if we want to salvage anything from the situation. Hate me all you like, but unless I return to Terra with a victory, and my authority intact, the whole Senatorum Imperialis is going to lose faith. And frankly, whether the other High Lords like it or not, this is a war that the Navy is going to have to win for them.
‘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!’
Twelve
‘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?’
‘Yes, sir, the anti-psykers are ready for your word. Veritus’ entourage seems to be mundane. Mostly ex-Guard and ex-Frateris as far as I can tell. Some augmetics and bionics, and quite an arsenal between them. The others have entourages with some muscle but mostly academic and administrative. According to Wienand’s report only Najurita is a psyker, and isn’t she on our side?’
‘Nobody is on our side,’ Vangorich said, more hastily than he had intended. He recovered his composure. ‘Not even Wienand. We are each striving for our own agenda. Never forget that.’