Was he still falling?
No, the ship was shaking again. He was lying on the floor of the strategium. His ears were filled with lead, but he thought he heard Groth’s voice.
Yes, he did. She was bending over him, her lips were moving. She was shouting, first at him, then at someone else. Who would she be talking to?
Broumis?
Yes, Broumis. Who was doing something foolish. Who must…
Who must…
The swarming black covered his eyes. Deal with Broumis later. Perhaps he would sleep. But it was so cold.
Electronic shrieking. Those tocsins again. Not as loud as they were. That was good. Easier to sleep.
Sleep.
Then he was awake, gasping, adrenaline surging again, fire racing up his left arm and through the back of his neck. His heart hammered at his ribcage. He sat up fast. His temples throbbed.
Feld was kneeling beside him. ‘He’s back,’ the medicae said to Groth. ‘But I can’t give him another dose like that.’
‘You’ll dose me like that for as long as we have a ship,’ Rodolph snarled. He took Groth’s proffered hand and got to his feet.
The pict screen to the left of the aquila showed the dispositions of the fleet. The runes beside the representation of the Absolute Decree began to flash. The ship’s orientation was changing.
‘Broumis!’ Rodolph yelled. ‘Do not break formation!’
‘Your wounds are severe, admiral. You were unable to articulate your orders a few moments ago. You have been incapacitated, and are no longer able to command. By virtue of seniority, I am now the ranking officer in this fleet. I must take the actions that stand the best chance of leading to victory for the Imperium.’
‘You’re grandstanding, Broumis!’ said Groth. ‘There’s no glory to be had here!’
‘Hold them off us, captain. Those are your new orders. Keep their attention for as long as you can.’
‘Don’t be insane!’
‘He won’t listen,’ Rodolph said quietly. The runes on the screen kept changing. The angle between the two grand cruisers was growing. The Absolute Decree was pointing her bow down towards the ork vessel and the attack moon beyond. ‘No choice now,’ he told Groth. ‘Do as Broumis says.’ He was too exhausted to feel the rage that should be his. ‘Do what you can.’
He moved to one side of the pulpit, making room for Groth.
She stepped forwards. ‘Helm,’ she said, ‘make for the primary cluster of ships at fifteen degrees starboard. Weapons stations, concentrate fire on the lead cruiser.’
The vox clamoured for Rodolph’s attention. It was Princeps 4-Syndesi, commanding the Mechanicus ships. ‘Admiral Rodolph. We observe trajectory alterations. Please advise of tactical revisions.’
‘This is Illaia Groth,’ the captain answered. ‘I am speaking for the admiral. The Absolute Decree is proceeding alone. Form up on the Finality. Keep the enemy’s focus on our positions.’
‘Requesting elaboration. What is the purpose of the manoeuvre?’
‘To hold off disaster as best we can, princeps. Captain Broumis is proceeding against orders.’
‘Clarification accepted. Requesting our negative estimation of the approach be noted.’
Rodolph straightened. Groth let him lean forwards to answer. ‘Our estimation is the same.’
He leaned against the pulpit once more. He winced as the shell and torpedo hits became more numerous as the Absolute Decree put distance between the cruisers, making them both more vulnerable.
‘Hull breach in launch bay sigma,’ Groth said.
‘I don’t need to know,’ Rodolph gasped. ‘When we die, we die.’ He nodded at the oculus. ‘Show me what Broumis is doing.’
The orientation of the view changed. Most of the attacking ships vanished. The Absolute Decree appeared in the centre of the oculus, its engines flaring hot. Nearly eight thousand metres of war leviathan turned away from the fleet, almost twice the size of the ork cruiser coming to meet it. No other ork vessels joined the duel, and the struggle was a brief one. The Decree’s armament overwhelmed the orks’ guns and shield plating. Long before it could attempt to ram, the cruiser broke in half. Broumis kept up the barrage. The enemy ship disintegrated in a chain of plasma flares.
The path to the attack moon was clear.
‘Was he right?’ Rodolph wondered. He hadn’t doubted his decisions until now. But Broumis had far more experience. Rodolph’s strength was slipping away. Perhaps he was no longer fit to command.
‘No,’ said Groth. She widened her stance, standing firm against the hammering jolts to the bridge. ‘He was wrong.’
‘He’s getting through.’
‘The enemy’s mistake is too obvious.’
The Absolute Decree moved towards the moon. It picked up speed. All its batteries trained their fire on the target. On the surface of the moon, bright flowers blossomed.
Pinpricks.
‘Cyclonic torpedoes,’ Rodolph muttered.
As if Broumis had heard, two fateful streaks shot from the cruiser’s bow.
Rodolph held his breath. Now he hoped he and Groth were wrong. He hoped Broumis’ disobedience would save them all.
Groth was shaking her head.
‘Why not?’ Rodolph asked.
She pointed. Objects scattered throughout the near space of the moon glinted. ‘Orbital defences,’ Groth said.
A few moments later, a web of las-fire cut short the flight of the torpedoes.
More pinpricks from the Decree’s guns flickered on the surface of the moon, assaults so trivial they were ignored.
Broumis voxed them again. ‘I have ordered ramming speed. In the name of the Emperor, we surrender our lives.’
‘No!’ Groth called. ‘That won’t be enough to pierce the crust. Captain, turn around. It isn’t too late.’
‘The planetside face,’ Rodolph said. ‘The incomplete portion of the moon. It might be vulnerable.’
‘My thanks, admiral,’ said Broumis.
When Groth looked at him, Rodolph said, ‘It is too late.’ But perhaps there was a last chance to make Broumis’ gambit work.
The Absolute Decree accelerated. Its orientation changed again. Its bow began to turn towards Caldera, preparing for the swing around and into the target.
‘We can’t even see that face,’ Groth said.
‘We know what we can see is invulnerable. What else is left to try?’
She remained unconvinced. ‘You believe the ship can manoeuvre through that?’ She pointed at the huge masses of crust rising from Caldera. They were larger than the Decree.
‘What else is left?’ Rodolph repeated. The Finality was pummelled again. He heard a weapons officer confirm another ork vessel destroyed. Rodolph was in the midst of an end-game battle, but his awareness shrank to the oculus and the ponderous movements of the grand cruiser. Broumis had doomed them all. The war would end sooner because he had broken rank. All that mattered now was the tattered hope he had become.
The Absolute Decree moved closer, reaching a lower orbit than the moon. Broumis was in position to make the run at the unfinished region.
‘Why is he not being attacked?’ Groth asked.
Rodolph’s blood chilled. He would have liked to believe the space around the Decree was empty because the rest of the fleet had drawn the attention of all the enemy ships. But these orks did not make such monumental tactical errors. Not even the orbital defences were firing.
Not a single shot.
Only the moon, the Absolute Decree, and the void.
And the mountains. The flying mountains.
‘No,’ Rodolph whispered.
‘Why couldn’t we see?’ Groth said, agonised. She called to Broumis. She tried to warn him. Rodolph didn’t hear what she said. For him too, now, there was only the moon, the ship, the void. And the mountains.