‘The defence of the Imperium,’ she proclaimed, ‘is not just the responsibility of the Navy, the Astra Militarum, or the Adeptus Astartes.’ She paused. ‘It is the responsibility of every citizen, of every human.’ She tilted her head back, as if gazing onto distant battlefields. ‘In this hour of greatest need, the Imperium calls upon all of us. I will not refuse to answer. Will any of you?’
She waited, and the cries of ‘No!’ came on cue, building on each other and on the anticipated salvation her confidence promised. Though he had no idea where Tull was going with this performance, Vangorich was impressed. Tull had always been a figure of great presence among the High Lords. The peace that had lured the Imperium into its deadly complacency had also denied Tull the opportunity to influence the currents of policy as much as she would have liked. Now she was in her glory.
‘The greenskins have their moon. What are the numbers that threaten us?’
Kubik said, ‘We have as yet no way of properly measuring the scale of—’
‘What does it matter when we are billions?’ Tull shouted to the tiers. Her voice rang with strength. It was the sound of defiance. Vangorich had a sudden image of countless iterations of Juskina Tull, stretching back through human history, standing on clifftops and hurling her indomitability at invaders, inspiring the armies behind her to the impossible. The power she had was magnificent. His concern was how she would choose to wield it.
‘The orks have weapons,’ Tull said. ‘Don’t we? They have ships. Don’t we? They have the presumption to believe they can invade us? Then we shall invade them! We will flood them with such numbers that the fear they have visited upon our world will pale before their own terror!’
She took a step back, her face shining, as the crowd’s roar swept over the dais in waves.
So much hope, Vangorich thought, and Tull hadn’t offered a single concrete detail of her proposed miracle.
Lansung said, ‘And how is this invasion going to take place without the presence of the Navy?’
Tull turned her smile on him, and it was eviscerating in its forbearance. ‘We don’t need the Navy.’ She looked back to the assembly. ‘We have the Merchant Fleets! We have ships beyond counting! Right here, at anchor over Terra and in the Sol System, we have more vessels than the orks could ever hope to defend against. I am issuing an immediate recall of all Merchant ships. We shall have a fleet that will fill the void. This fleet will carry our millions to the obscenity in our skies and destroy the orks utterly. This is the hour of the Proletarian Crusade!’
The clamour that greeted her pronouncement shook the walls of the Great Chamber. If sound could be harnessed as power, the ork moon would have been blasted in that moment. Vangorich saw one of Kubik’s limbs twitch as the sudden peak in sound overwhelmed his sensory inputs.
When the crest of the celebration faded, Verreault spoke up, indignant. ‘You speak as if Terra has no defenders.’
The smile Tull favoured him with was different from the one she had given Lansung. It was an invitation to join her in the light of victory. ‘I am not forgetting the Imperial Guard, Lord Commander Militant,’ she said. ‘The Merchants’ Armada will of course transport the full force of the Emperor’s Fist. But we must strike with all the might and anger that Terra can muster. You would not deny the people this great chance to stand for the Imperium?’
‘You know I wouldn’t,’ Verreault answered.
Vangorich was still trying to process the implications of Tull’s plan. The scale of the madness was so vast, it outstripped horror.
Lansung was having some of the same difficulty.
‘How are you going to destroy the fortress with unarmed vessels?’ he asked.
‘We aren’t,’ said Tull. ‘As I said, this is an invasion.’
‘Ground troops?’ Vangorich said, aghast.
‘Yes.’ Orating again, she continued, ‘I will not pretend that great sacrifices do not lie ahead, on Terra and above. Production will suffer. Those who remain will have to do the work of the millions at war. Many ships will be lost in the assault. Many warriors will be lost in the landing and in the storming of the fortress. But the orks cannot stop them all. We are too many.’
Warming to the idea and the role he would play in the triumph to come, Verreault said, ‘Under the command of the Astra Militarum, the people of Terra will sweep the orks to oblivion.’
Lansung’s jaw hung open for a moment. Then he sat back, defeated. Unless and until the Imperial Navy was able to aid Terra, he was an irrelevance, and he knew it.
‘You surprise me,’ Vangorich said to Verreault. The Lord Commander Militant was more of a political animal than his predecessor. Heth had always struck Vangorich as being more at home in combat than in governance. Verreault, though a veteran, had spent much of his career leading from the strategium table. It was easier for him to see troops as pieces in a game of regicide, and losses as statistics. Vangorich wondered if he realised that he was a junior partner in the alliance with Tull, as the Guard had been when Lansung’s star had been in the ascendant. The plan was Tull’s, as was the armada. Verreault’s share of the glory would be what she permitted.
Vangorich caught himself. There would be no glory to partition. The proposal was mad. Even a group as prone to self-delusion as the High Lords couldn’t be blind to that fact.
Yet Verreault was unfazed by his comment.
‘Speaker Tull’s argument has merit,’ the Lord Commander Militant said. ‘The regiments of the Astra Militarum stationed on Terra don’t have the numbers we need against an entire world of orks, even with the reinforcement of the Penal Legions. The call has been sent to the entire Imperial Guard. But the Cadians, the Valhallans, the Mordians…’
‘They still need to get here,’ said Lansung.
‘And they are already engaging the orks.’
Ekharth spoke up. ‘The mechanics of recruitment will be complex. There is little time.’
‘I have no doubt that the Administratum is up to the challenge,’ said Tull.
‘It is. This will be a mobilisation to give birth to legends!’ The cheer that answered him wasn’t as excited as the ones that Tull summoned, but it was the greatest Ekharth, a poor speaker, had ever received.
‘When great sacrifice is called for, faith and inspiration are more vital than ever,’ Mesring said.
‘They are indeed,’ said Tull.
Vangorich vowed to track down those responsible for giving the Ecclesiarch the antidote to the poison the Grand Master had introduced into his system. Now Mesring would be spreading the toxins of his influence even more effectively. Tull’s strategy was lunatic, but it was also brilliant. At a stroke, she had Verreault, Ekharth and Mesring invested in the plan. Lansung was opposed, but he was a pariah. Udo was eager to distance himself from the High Admiral, so Vangorich expected him to side with Tull also. If Gibran, Sark and Anwar had reservations, they were not voicing them.
‘The information such an invasion could gather would be invaluable,’ Kubik said.
Even Zeck was nodding with approval. ‘The people need something concrete,’ he said. ‘The recruitment should redirect energy. Diminish the fear. Take the wind out of the riots.’
Then Tull spoke to Lansung, and cemented her pre-eminence. ‘The Crusade will not be possible without the assistance of the Imperial Navy.’
‘What?’
‘The armaments of the Merchant Fleet are light at best. By numbers alone, I know we can overwhelm the ork defences. But with the Autocephalax Eternal leading the way, we will punch through with ease.’
Lansung stared at her with undisguised hatred. Vangorich would have applauded Tull’s move if he hadn’t been sure that she was leading them all to the slaughter. She had Lansung cornered. If he agreed with her plan, the Navy would be in a position that was even more subordinate to the Merchant Fleet than the Imperial Guard’s. If he refused, he would be offering up the spectacle of the flagship remaining behind, the Navy sitting out a fight while the common citizens came forward at the hour of Terra’s greatest need. He could not refuse.