‘But…’ Allegra put to them.
‘The admiral, the Lord Governor and I have been drafting a contingency,’ Phifer said gravely.
‘In the event that the Adeptus Astartes do not reach us,’ Novakovic clarified.
‘We cannot allow the greenskin invader to take Undine,’ General Phifer said, his words those of an off-world warlord rather than the sentiments of an ocean homelander. ‘We have a responsibility to the Imperium — to the Emperor. Live or die, we must deny the alien this tiny part of the Imperium.’
‘I agree, general,’ Allegra told him with difficulty, her own losses still gnawing away at her soul. ‘But how might such a miracle be procured? Billions live who soon will perish. What weapons we had now sit on the seabed. The enemy is irresistible in savagery and number. They will not be denied.’
‘I need a small contingency force,’ General Phifer went on, ‘led by an officer of character and certitude — one who will do what must be done.’
‘General…’
‘The Lord Governor gave you as a recommendation,’ Phifer told her. ‘Your past familiarity with these waters makes you an excellent choice.’ The Marineer general focused the hololith in on a tiny island in the middle of the featureless ocean, many leagues from the major hive or pontoon communities. ‘You know Desolation Point, of course.’
Allegra nodded. She knew it well. She’d worked as second mate on a gun-rover out of Desolation Point before operating a wrecker under her own captaincy in the surrounding waters. She had both been a pirate and a privateer preying on pirates in and around the half-mythical port. Desolation Point was the buried memory of a former life.
‘Apocalytic invasion or not, the Brethren will not fight for Marineers who have spent their life hunting and persecuting them,’ Lux Allegra told them.
‘You did,’ Admiral Novakovic reminded her.
‘Those that are not whoring or in their stimm-chests will have heard of the invasion over the vox-waves and taken to the high seas,’ Allegra said.
‘Like cowards,’ the general muttered.
‘Like survivors, general,’ Allegra corrected him.
‘Well, we will be neither,’ Novakovic said, ‘if the Black Templars don’t arrive in time.’
‘Which is why we need a contingency plan, captain,’ Phifer said. ‘There is something at Desolation Point of strategic value, but it is not the good anchorage or the Brethren scum that haunt it.’
‘Then what?’
‘Did you ever wonder,’ Admiral Novakovic put to her, ‘why the Marineers did not simply deploy Marauder wings to blast your island hideout to oblivion?’
‘I don’t understand, admiral.’
‘Desolation Point was the worst kept secret in the Sixteen Seas,’ Novakovic told her. ‘The Undinian defence forces could have taken it at any time, rather than chasing pirate skiffs all over the ocean and engaging the services of turncoat privateers like yourself.’
‘Then why didn’t you?’ Allegra replied, the edge of a challenge creeping into her voice.
‘Because your Brethren,’ Phifer said, half-spitting the word, ‘chose Desolation Point for its isolated location. Just like the Imperial Army.’
‘Excuse me, sir?’
‘Your haven of rust and corrugated scrap is built on top of an old Imperial Army depot,’ Phifer said. ‘The rocky isle was too small for hive foundations but perfect for a small subterranean installation. A storage facility for two-stage orbital munitions and planetary bombs left over from the wars of the Great Heresy. They were hidden and largely forgotten at Desolation Point until the Brethren took the island for their own.’
‘We could not take Desolation Point,’ Admiral Novakovic said, ‘for fear that the Brethren had these weapons in their possession and might use them against the defence force or even the hive populations. You thought you were hidden; in fact, you were untouchable. That is why piracy flourished and the Lord Governor’s prosecution of the Brethren was half-hearted at best.’
‘I’ve never heard of such weapons,’ Allegra told them.
‘It’s likely that the Brethren never discovered them,’ Novakovic said. ‘They are secured in a fortified underground depot. We couldn’t take the chance, however. We have suffered defections to the Brethren as the pirate lords have to us.’ The admiral flashed his eyes.
Lux Allegra didn’t care much for ancient history. A bitter fire had returned to belly, however. ‘These weapons of mass destruction could be used against the invader,’ she said, finally seeing where the Marineer commanders were going with their history lesson.
‘After a fashion,’ the admiral said cautiously.
‘Records show that the cache of stored orbital weapons are largely biologicals,’ General Phifer said. ‘They fell out of favour with Loyalist forces and a number were secured at Desolation Point.’
‘Biologicals.’
‘Virus bombs, captain.’
The fire in Allegra’s belly felt suddenly doused.
‘A contingency force,’ she said, repeating the general’s earlier words. ‘You mean to deny Undine to the invader.’
A gleam of grim determination found its way into Phifer’s eyes.
‘Should the Adeptus Astartes not arrive in time,’ the general said, ‘I aim to preserve Undine for the Emperor.’
‘Preserve for him a dead rock in space,’ Allegra accused.
‘A rock purified of the green plague, yes,’ Phifer shot back. ‘An Imperial rock, captain.’
‘What about the Western Hives?’ Allegra said, turning to Lord Governor Borghesi. ‘The billions at Pontoplex, Nemertis, Arethuse?’
The old man shook his head sadly.
‘No one will survive the biological weapons, once they are unleashed,’ Phifer said. ‘But no one will survive the invader, and it has already been unleashed.’
Lux Allegra was silent. She couldn’t fully imagine the enormity of the act Phifer, Novakovic and Borghesi were proposing. She felt the cold comfort of a fate accepted creep into her bones. Her hand unconsciously drifted down to the flak armour over her stomach. All of sudden, Lyle Gohlandr didn’t feel so far away.
‘We talk of contingency, captain,’ Admiral Novakovic said. ‘Hopefully, the Black Templars will arrive in time and the Emperor’s Angels will deliver precious Undine.’
‘Captain?’ Phifer said.
‘I’ll do it,’ Allegra replied icily.
The old men — general, admiral and governor all — nodded silently.
A kind of terrible calm descended.
‘My men are dead,’ Allegra said at length. It felt strange to actually say the words.
‘You can take my security detail,’ General Phifer said. ‘Commander Tyrhone?’
An officer stepped forwards from the shadows of the tiny command centre. He was dressed in the charcoal uniform of the Marineer Elites and had the dark skin of a Southern hiver. His face was all jutting bones and unsmiling gristle. A man made hard by his duties and the needs of the general under whom he served.
‘Tyrhone and his squad will be at your disposal,’ General Phifer said. ‘The commander will be of use to you in priming the virus bombs for a launchless detonation.’ Allegra nodded at the commander, who said nothing. Phifer gave her a data-slate. ‘This contains the location and security codes for the depot hatch-entrance. We cannot guarantee easy movement across the island. Desolation Point is a small colony but will still no doubt attract landing enemy in voracious number.’
‘Just get me as close to the shore as you can,’ Allegra said. ‘The north-east anchorage is the deepest and traditionally admits submersibles.’
‘Hold the depot,’ General Phifer ordered. ‘Prime the biologicals and await my command. Do you think you can do that?’
Allegra turned with the data-slate in hand and made for the conning tower airlock.
‘Like I said,’ she said, half to herself, ‘I’ll do it.’