Most of the noise in the room came from Bjarni. It was always Bjarni. He was taking aim with a light throwing axe at a stack of empty nutrient cans. The wall behind was scarred by repeated impacts. Kalael was half a metre away, sharpening the teeth of his chainsword, unconcerned by the target practice taking place so close to his face.

The others Felix knew well, but none so well as Justinian Parris who, along with Solus, was his closest friend.

‘I will split the third one from the left, second row,’ said Bjarni, weighing his axe in his hand.

‘What will you wager?’ said a warrior of the line of Guilliman named Ciceron.

‘Does it matter? I never miss!’ bragged Bjarni.

‘You nearly hit me once,’ said Kalael. ‘That was a miss.’

‘It was not. I intended to give you a fright, brooding angel,’ said Bjarni wolfishly. His hair was grey and shaved into a tall mohawk. His beard retained some red, but he appeared older than he was. His nose was crooked from an ancient break. Not all the scars that criss-crossed his body had been won in service; several he attributed to the attentions of Fenris’ notorious wildlife during his childhood.

‘You cannot brag without betting, Bjarni,’ said Justinian. ‘Come on, put down a bet.’

Justinian was typically Macraggian in appearance, though he hailed from the hive world of Ardium rather than the capital world itself. He was tall and blonde, with aristocratic features that could have seemed cold had he not smiled so generously.

‘I have only my ration of delicious nutrient gruel to offer,’ said Bjarni. ‘So who cares?’

‘It is the form of the thing,’ said Felix, speaking up and stepping over the raised lintel of the door. ‘Honour demands a boast carry a wager.’

‘Felix!’ shouted Bjarni. A huge grin split his beard. He hurled the axe without looking. It slammed into his designated target, cutting it two and sending the rest of the stack bouncing off the steel tables around the room. Kalael scowled under his hood as he flicked cans off his work.

The men rose from their tables and greeted the captain. Bjarni got there first, flinging his arms around Felix in a bear hug.

‘Tell me you have come back to lead us, captain,’ said the Fenrisian. ‘Just one more time, eh?’ He slammed Felix on the shoulder pad with his huge fist.

‘If only I could. I wish I had been with you during the drop on Raukos.’

‘My brother,’ said Justinian, taking Felix’s armoured hand in his own and grasping it hard. ‘It has been too long.’

‘If you are not to fight with us, why are you here, Felix?’ asked Bjarni.