The astropath, Fedualis, was unable to provide further help as he was still in the apothecarion, comatose but alive. Occasionally he would murmur nonsense, his physical condition more stable than his mental state.

The captain did not allow these factors to overwhelm his thinking. They were hurt but alive, and that was the most important thing. Just as a Space Marine was deadly even without his bolt rifle and Mark X armour, so the Ithraca’s Vengeance and company were still capable of influential action.

What that action might be had so far eluded Aeschelus. The presence of the warp-dulling effect suggested that whatever had happened at Casparill had spread to this system, wherever they were. There was no way of knowing whether the invasion was ongoing, completed or about to start, or if the enemy were here at all. Coming upon the star base was a stroke of good fortune, but Aeschelus was wary of such a boon. Short-range vox had received nothing from the Space Marines’ hails and the sensor banks were unable to determine anything but the barest data about the station – its reactors were on line. This suggested occupation by either friend or foe, but the lack of any other vessels in the vicinity made it impossible to know which.

If there were xenos or heretic powers at work in the system, the Ultramarines would do everything they could to combat the threat. Even if Aeschelus had not been determined to drag some benefit out of the disastrous warp jump, he had no choice but to confront the enemy. Kosa had been explicit in her diagnosis of the warp engines and the ongoing conditions of the neversea: the ship was as stuck in this star system as it had been in warp space. Even if the warp engines were repaired the lack of intangible traction through the Impossibility Boundary made exiting the system impossible while the enemy suppression – however it was achieved – remained in effect.

‘Captain, the vox-receivers are operational again,’ reported Ship­master Oloris. ‘We are receiving a general broadcast signal from in-system. No ciphers, just standard Imperial channels.’

‘Which channels?’ Aeschelus asked, pushing his way past two tech-priests to attend to the shipmaster at the communications hub in front of his command throne. The red-robed adepts withdrew with clicks and whirring, their gaggle of cyber-altered monotasks lumbering after them.

‘All of the channels, captain,’ said Oloris. ‘Blanket transmission over available naval, military and even command channels.’

‘No cipher? I do not like the sound of that. Could be a carrier signal for scrapcode or some xenos assault.’

‘There is no way of isolating the signal, captain, not with our equipment in such poor state.’ The shipmaster shrugged. ‘I am not sure what more damage a rogue signal could do, anyway.’

Aeschelus considered the problem and erred on the side of risk. His need for intelligence on what was happening in the system outweighed the minimal threat of enemy vox-attack.