The speech he was making now signalled a transformation from a position of offering promises to actual action. Vangorich did not know what part the others were fated to play in the drama to come, or what quid pro quo had been offered to secure their support, but he could guess. The first military action would be a success for the Imperial Navy, and with that honour secured then Lansung would most likely allow the focus to shift to the Astra Militarum. Once they had gained a few victories for their rolls of honour their positions as defenders of the Imperium would be fixed for a millennium or more. History would not forget the commanders that saved the Imperium from the predations of the Beast.
‘In the meantime, we shall not waste our breath nor cumber our thought with reproaches.’ Lansung intertwined his pudgy fingers and nodded sagely for the benefit of the recorders. ‘When you have a friend and comrade at whose side you have faced tremendous struggles, and your friend is smitten down by a stunning blow, it may be necessary to make sure that the weapon that has fallen from his hands shall not be added to the resources of your common enemy. But you need not bear malice because of your friend’s cries of delirium and gestures of agony. You must not add to his pain — you must work for his recovery. The association of interest between the Imperium and the Adeptus Mechanicus remains. The cause remains. Duty inescapable remains. Subject to the iron demands of the war that we are now waging against the Beast and all his works, we shall try so to conduct ourselves towards the liberation of those benighted systems from the foulest thralldom into which they have been cast.’
Lansung paused and sipped from a crystal goblet. Water, not wine, Vangorich noted. The Lord High Admiral had seemingly sagged under the weight of responsibility during the last part of his speech, burdened by regret of mistakes past. Now he straightened and even smiled.
‘Let us think rather of the future. Today is the sixth of Septival, the anniversary of the liberation of Nastor Primus. A year ago at Nastor I watched the stately parade down the Avenue of Concord by the Nastoran regiments while craft of the Navy from their shipyards flew overhead. Who can foresee what the course of the rest of the year will bring?’
The Lord High Admiral looked at Ecclesiarch Mesring, head of the freshly recognised Adeptus Ministorum. The two men exchanged friendly smiles, pre-arranged it was clear to see, intended to send another message to the doubters. Lansung had the backing of the holiest of the Emperor’s servants. In return, Vangorich guessed, the Ecclesiarchy’s missionaries and preachers would find welcome and passage on the ships of the Imperial Navy. It seemed that Mesring was willing to call bluff on the poison Vangorich had introduced to his system. It was also entirely possible that the Ecclesiarch had discovered a counter-agent. For the moment it did not matter — Mesring was confident enough in his continued survival to make open alliance with Lansung.
‘Faith is given to us to help and comfort us when we stand in awe before the unfurling scroll of human destiny,’ continued Lansung. ‘And I proclaim my faith that some of us will live to see a sixth of Septival when a liberated Nastor Primus will once again rejoice in her greatness and in her glory, and once again stand forward as the champion of the freedom and the rights of man. When the day dawns, as dawn it will, the soul of all mankind will turn with comprehension and with kindness to those men and women, wherever they may be, who in the darkest hour did not despair of the Imperium.
‘But let us not speak of darker days: let us speak rather of sterner days. These are not dark days, these are great days — the greatest days our people have ever lived — and we must all thank the Emperor that we have been allowed, each of us according to our stations, to play a part in making these days memorable in the history of our race.’
The admiral waited for the applause such a speech deserved, which was started by Juskina Tull and quickly taken up by the others, including Vangorich. When the clapping started to falter, Lansung sat down, stern-faced, and held up a hand in false modesty.
‘Much gratitude, much gratitude. It is you that I should applaud, for allowing me to voice the thoughts of this council.’
Vangorich quickly reviewed the speech and came to the conclusion that although Lansung had spoken for some time, he had said very little at all, except as coded promises or concessions to those waiting to hear particular phrases. There had to be more here than the Master of Assassins understood, for Lansung could not advance the Navy’s plans with more rhetoric; something of substance had to be forthcoming.
Vangorich decided to move the agenda along a little.
‘Wonderful, Lord High Admiral! Bravo!’ Lansung had been turning towards Ekharth of the Administratum, expecting the first reply from him, but Vangorich interrupted, eliciting a brief scowl from the Navy commander.
‘Thank you,’ said Lansung with a gracious nod of acceptance. He started to turn back to Ekharth, who was opening his mouth to speak, but Vangorich was again quicker.
‘I can barely wait for your triumphant return, Admiral Lansung.’
‘Return?’ Lansung was perplexed more than vexed. ‘What return?’
‘Well, we all know that you wield starships as well as you weave words, Lord High Admiral, as befits your station. I assumed that you would be personally leading the fleet against the ork menace.’
Eyes narrowed for a moment, Lansung saw the trap being laid out for him. With an agility of thought far beyond any physical act he might perform, the admiral side-stepped quickly.
‘To conceive of the plan that will bring us victory will be reward enough, Master Vangorich. Like yourself, I would rather not draw attention to my efforts. There are many fine admirals in the Segmentum Solar deserving of a chance to earn proper respect and renown without my interference.’
Vangorich knew that his first strike had been hasty and clumsy and he regretted the attempt even as he smiled at the Lord High Admiral. His mind was racing, seeking some parry to Lansung’s counter-argument.
‘Noble, very noble, admiral. Yet your modesty endangers the Imperium. I would not have us send a lesser commander simply for the sake of history’s recognition. One does not leave a better balanced and sharper blade in its sheath because others have not seen such frequent use, and I think you do yourself a disservice by squandering your capacities here in the Senatorum when battle calls to your most precious talents.’
Lansung’s fixed smile grew genuine and Vangorich realised that he had missed his mark again. The admiral clearly knew that if he was physically removed from Terra his grip on the Senatorum would be lessened. Vangorich was trying to prise just a little finger away from the vice-like fist that Lansung currently maintained, and the benefit of interstellar distance would be considerable. There was even the chance that he might actually die in battle, though everything Vangorich knew about Lansung suggested he was vain and ambitious, but never a physical coward. His service record was very impressive, as was the ruthlessness that underpinned it, and Vangorich would not be able to make any accusation of that ilk. The admiral knew this and easily deflected the suggestion.
‘The commanders that will be chosen will have served under me for many years, Grand Master.’
I bet they have, thought Vangorich.
‘It is they who have been serving directly against the foes of mankind these past years and are best placed to enact our strategies against the Beast,’ Lansung continued. ‘A degree of detachment, physical as well as emotional, is required for command, my dear Vangorich. I would have thought you understood that as well as those of us who have war in our blood.’
Vangorich had to concede the point with a superficial nod. He was irked again that Wienand was not there to exploit what he could not see, but there was no point wasting time wishing for things that were not to be. The eyes of the other High Lords were upon him, showing a mixture of sympathy and impatience. He would not be indulged much longer and had to take a different approach.