Rodolph could guess the rest of the captain’s sentence. ‘Agreed. We’ve done our duty here. The forces have made planetfall.’
‘You can’t be calling a retreat,’ said Groth.
‘No. An attack. Set course for the ork moon.’
Broumis was silent for a moment. ‘Admiral,’ he began.
‘I understand the consequence of my order, captain.’
‘Understood.’
Rodolph exchanged a look with Groth. She nodded, and relayed the command.
On the oculus, a swarm of ork frigates closed in.
‘And if the forces on the planet find the primarch,’ Groth said, ‘how will they leave?’
‘If the fleet is destroyed in this location, they are no better off. We have to try to change the conditions of the war. At the very least, we’ll keep the ork fleet occupied.’
More ork torpedoes shot through the defensive fire. The void shields held, but the kinetic energy of the hits still translated through them into a shudder that rocked the Finality. Rodolph winced and kept his feet. He clutched the aquila hard enough to cut his palm. His blood ran down the wing. ‘Let me speak to the Alcazar,’ he said. His vision was blurring again. ‘Someone get me some stimms!’ he shouted. He would not go dark before the ship. He would not. He would–
He blinked, and Weylon Kale was on the vox. Rodolph shook his head, trying to clear it. A junior officer arrived with stimms. Rodolph downed them. His vision sharpened, but so did his awareness of troubling movement in his chest. He swallowed back another taste of blood, then told Kale what he had ordered. ‘The Alcazar Remembered is not under my authority, shipmaster,’ he said. ‘But I hope you see where necessity lies.’
‘You want us to pull out of formation and remain on station.’
‘Yes. I believe most or all of the greenskin fleet will follow us in defence of the moon.’
‘I do understand,’ said Kale, though his reluctance was clear. ‘The success of the mission is paramount.’
The approaching ork frigates were joined by more. The Finality and the Absolute Decree led the Imperial fleet towards a wall of ships.
‘It is,’ said Rodolph. ‘You have our thanks.’
‘We will add our fire to yours for as long as the conflict is in range.’
‘My hope is that that will not be for long.’
The fleet moved toward the jaws of the enemy, leaving the strength of the Alcazar Remembered behind.
Early afternoon.
The Storm Eagle Deathblow streaked over the Calderan landscape. Hemisphere flew just below the cloud cover. Koorland sat in the dorsal heavy bolter turret in place of a servitor. Below him was the jungle, its canopy torn by the huge wounds of the orks’ passage. He wished for more altitude, and the ability to see more territory at a glance. But the clouds pressed down, weighed by ash and smoke. Any higher, and he would see nothing at all.
A short while ago, in the command tent, Koorland had said, ‘They’re searching for their enemy. We have to find him before they do.’
‘How will we do that?’ Hemisphere had asked.
‘That’s the question. Let’s observe what we can of separate ork forces. I hope we’ll know what we are looking for when we see it.’
‘I hope you’ll forgive me, Chapter Master, but the thread of hope is a thin one.’
‘It’s all we have. The anomaly is promising, though, and consistent with the reports of the surviving militia. So take us to the orks, Hemisphere. We’ll begin with a lateral cut across the columns as we find them. I’ll let you know if any warrant a second pass.’
‘So ordered.’
Now Hemisphere flew in an outward arc towards the westernmost ork position. The greenskins were not hard to find. The swathe cut through the jungle by each horde was massive, and the force itself was visible from a great distance. First there was dirty smoke on the horizon, and then the shapes came into view: the silhouette of a walker, then the lower hulks of battlefortresses. Then the smaller tanks and trucks. And around the vehicles, the riot of the infantry. Hemisphere skirted the eastern edge of the horde. Its movement was confused. The path of destruction leading to this location followed a straight line, but now the march seemed to have stalled.
‘They don’t know where they’re going,’ Hemisphere said.
‘No, they don’t.’
The orks were milling about, direction lost. There was what looked like the beginnings of a shift to the north-east, but some of the army was still trying to push west.
The overflight of the Deathblow renewed the orks’ purpose. The gunship was outside the range of the infantry’s weapons, but they fired anyway. It was within the reach of the anti-aircraft guns. Solid ordnance and energy beams struck at it.
‘They’re no use to us,’ Koorland said. ‘Take us to the next.’
Hemisphere angled the Storm Eagle away, pushing the thrusters. The gunship left the orks behind long before the guns could take its measure.
Koorland thought about the confusion he had seen and what the militia soldiers had told him about Vulkan’s appearances in Laccolith. ‘The primarch was here,’ he said. ‘But no longer. They’ve lost their quarry.’
‘We should watch, then, for similar patterns of behaviour with the other cohorts,’ said Hemisphere.
‘Yes. As soon as you see that symptom, move on. No point in giving them a target. And we don’t know how much time we have. These armies won’t remain separate for long.’
Hemisphere flew east, angling towards the north as he picked up another swathe. The orks he and Koorland found were as confused as the first army. The gunship flashed over them, not slowing, the brief glance all Koorland needed. These orks reacted quickly. Some of the surface-to-air fire came very close.
‘They were expecting us,’ Hemisphere said.
‘Yes,’ said Koorland. ‘They’re communicating well. More of that damned coordination they’ve developed.’
They flew past two more armies. More confusion, more chaotic pulling in two directions. Koorland saw a new pattern. The tension in the hordes was always between whatever route they had been following initially, and the north-east.
‘They’re receiving reports they don’t know whether to believe,’ he said. ‘The evidence of their senses conflicts with the communications from the other groups.’
‘If this is Lord Vulkan’s doing,’ said Hemisphere, ‘the strategy is brilliant. He’s single-handedly divided the greenskins into multiple, smaller groups that have no idea where they’re going. I wish we knew how he was doing this.’
‘By being true to his myth,’ Koorland muttered.
‘I missed that, Chapter Master.’
‘Nothing, brother. I wish I knew too. But I think we know where we’re heading now.’
‘We do.’
The Deathblow flew north-east.
Ahead, the jungle thinned as the land rose. The land, fertilised by frequent falls of volcanic ash, gave way to the barrenness of hardened lava flows. Further north, Koorland saw two massive cones with smoke pouring from their peaks, lit by lightning and the angry red of molten rock. The next force of orks were between the gunship’s position and the two volcanoes, still in the jungle and striking directly towards the peaks. This was the largest horde so far. More warbands were arriving at the rear, perhaps groups that had broken off early from the other mobs. The movement here was assured and violent. Koorland saw a bright flash towards the head of the advance.
‘Brother Hemisphere,’ he said.
‘I saw it, Chapter Master. They’re fighting something.’
Hemisphere turned the Storm Eagle towards the north.
And flew straight into a massive anti-aircraft barrage.
The orks had been waiting for them. Charging forwards to attack their unseen target, racing ahead with the single-minded ferocity and speed of their race, they had still prepared for the Deathblow’s appearance.