‘You have spent your life guarding the Emperor, yet you forget who the Emperor guards in His turn,’ said Guilliman. ‘Be more forgiving.’

‘As you wish,’ said Colquan. Traditionally, the Adeptus Custodes had taken orders only from their own officers and the Emperor. That was until Guilliman had been declared Imperial Regent: the Emperor’s living voice.

‘Hold course,’ Guilliman ordered. ‘All power to forward void shields. Battlegroups Three and Five, break off and engage outflanking enemy elements. Target all Lords of Pain Chapter assets. All fleet to fire on targets of opportunity as subsidiary enemy groupings pass. All batteries load for close-range combat. Prepare prow weapons for forward fire. Charge lance batteries to maximum. Nova cannons to draw firing solutions ready for my order.’

Various stations reported their understanding of Guilliman’s order. Activity on the command deck intensified.

On the forward oculus, the ships grew from flecks to objects the size of models, then bigger, swelling as the Indomitus Crusade fleet swept in at high speed. Perspective in the void lies. When the ships seemed close enough to touch, they continued to grow. Their spear prows went from scalpel sharp to giant, blunt cliff walls bristling with sensor spikes and weapons cupolas.

‘My lord?’ asked Brahe questioningly.

‘No order to fire,’ said Guilliman.

A storm of laser and solid-shot fire blasted from the forward batteries of the Chaos ships. Guilliman ignored it and swept his gaze over the enemy, seeking weak points no augurs could see. Another barrage of lance strikes sparked off the forward shields. The majority of fire was coming at the Macragge’s Honour, the Chaos battleships adjusting position to track its approach.

‘Forward void shields failing!’ called out the Master Scutum.

‘We have multiple target locks on the flagship,’ reported the Master Augurum.

‘My lord?’ said Brahe again. He was remarkably calm, more curious to see what the primarch would do than anything. Men like Brahe were rare.

‘A moment,’ said Guilliman. His fingers danced along the gel screen, the giving material distorting as he touched it. Schematics and augur data flashed up in quick succession on phosphor displays and minor hololiths. Guilliman read each page quicker than a man could blink, processing volumes’ worth of data in seconds.

There.

A void shield flicker, out of syncopation with its pulse modulators.

A weak spot.

‘That vessel, the Steel Lord,’ he said decisively. ‘Target these positions.’ His hands danced over his displays, depressing keys and activating holomarks in a blur. An image of the Steel Lord materialised upon a secondary hololith in front of Brahe’s throne. Targeting data for a score of ships appeared almost as quickly.

The orders were disseminated via datasquirt across the fleet. A flurry of affirmations were returned via the Master Divulgatus.

‘All vessels confirm targets acquired.’

‘Then open fire,’ said Guilliman.

The reserved fire of ten great ships of the line flared out at once, all aimed at the Steel Lord.