‘My lords and ladies,’ said Guilliman, ‘today will be a great day for the Imperium. I commend you to the protection of the Emperor, the lord of mankind. Now go – to your vessels and war machines! To your transports! To war!’

‘War! War! War!’ they responded.

The majority of the commanders left quickly. Hololiths blinked out. Soon the command deck was empty but for Guilliman’s core command staff and the ship’s bridge officers, though that still amounted to almost four hundred people.

About the graphic of 108/Beta-Kalapus-9.2, the dull red signifiers of enemy craft began to move.

‘The enemy responds,’ said Guilliman. ‘All fleet to engage full thrust. We fall upon them without mercy.’

Shipmaster Brahe stood from his throne and leaned upon the array of viewscreens that clustered about his station.

‘Macragge’s Honour to full thrust,’ he said. ‘All fleet to full thrust.’

‘All fleet to full thrust!’ repeated the Master Divulgatus to his opposite numbers across the fleet. A ripple of activity spread out across the tiered work banks and station pits of the deck. Field-integrity technicians adjusted the energy matrices that stabilised the ship’s frame, compensating for the coming acceleration. Enginarium tech-priests passed on minute adjustments to their counterparts deep in the ship’s engine halls. Reactor outputs were carefully monitored.

‘Reactor ready,’ reported a metal-faced tech-adept.

‘Enginarium ready,’ said a man in a smart ensign’s uniform.

A coterie of electro-priests began the hymn, Body Electric. Tech-priests muttered their prayers over their desks.

The Master Motivatus gripped the rail of his podium. Around him in a circular array a dozen servitors sat, the calculations required to move the Macragge’s Honour from its current position into its attack run flickering through their butchered brains. Cogitators bleeped out rapid beats of binharic as the data was transferred to them.

‘Compliance. Engines operating at maximum efficiency,’ the servitors said with one voice.

‘Full thrust in three, two, one. Mark,’ said the Master Motivatus.

‘Mark. Engaging.’

A rumbling sounded aft, drawing closer like the approach of a great engine. A tremor passed up the ship, growing stronger. Machines burbled as it passed through their fabric. It joined with the never ending thrum of the ship’s systems, became one with it, and passed from the crew’s notice.

Acceleration was a gentle push in the chest, a trailing heaviness that dragged at the heels.

The Macragge’s Honour built up to one hundredth of the speed of light. Around it, the fleet’s engines blinked into life as all the vessels began their acceleration, holding formation perfectly.

108/Beta-Kalapus-9.2 grew rapidly.