Debris fields occluded some of Raukos’ violent depths. Sparkling showers of metal, clouds of frozen gas and shattered hulls drifted blackly across the sun. Work proceeded to salvage wrecked Imperial vessels. Great Adeptus Mechanicus Salvator Arks stood off at nexus points between the wrecks calculated for maximum distance efficiency. Ships flew between them and the broken vessels in precisely spaced streams. Scavenger scows crawled back and forth across space, their projecting limbs and swarms of attendant drones working together with insectile efficiency. The more intact wrecks had many small salvage pods anchored to them like limpets, blue flashes sparkling all around these viable craft as they were made fit for warp transit to shipyards.

The adamantium frames of Imperial ships were practically indestructible. As long as the reactors did not explode, they would survive to be refitted again, as some had been a hundred times over.

Some changes had been made to Imperial salvaging policies within the fleet. Guilliman had ordered the wrecks of the traitor’s ships to be utterly destroyed. It had been the habit of the Adeptus Mechanicus and the Navy to recover enemy ships. Chaos vessels were of Imperial make, and were often of older, superior patterns. The primarch stamped hard on the practice. Build new ships, he had said. Leave the past where it is. The corruption of the warp buried itself deeply into whatever it touched.

The Martians had not been happy with that. They had looked upon the older marques of vessel with greedy eyes. Examples had been made.

The rest of the fleet hung against the raging Pit, set into a box defence pattern. Thin lines of lights passing between the battleships marked out the flight paths of inter-ship traffic, as officers and repair crews shuttled back and forth between vessels. Every craft bore some sign of damage, from this or prior engagements, and over them all flickered plasma torches. They were strong still, even wounded, and Guilliman took an immense pride in the scale of the Indomitus Crusade. The Navy had been disunited when he had returned, and understrength. Guilliman had turned the efforts of many systems to producing new ships.

Behind the wall of vessels nearest to the Pit of Raukos, the Null Ships of the Sisters of Silence waited, their arcane weapons ready to obliterate any uncanny foe that dared entry to the material realm. He did not expect any. The fane was gone. The system’s sole viable world belonged to the Imperium now.