Lowensten nodded and signalled to his court to approach. Aeschelus turned to Praxa­medes and gave him a nod. They had already discussed what preparations needed to be made. The Ultramarines had dealt a blow to the xenos scum but the foe was not yet defeated. They had to be driven from the system if the Ithraca’s Vengeance was to make warp translation again. And any intelligence learnt here could be taken to Casparill and any other systems that were suffering the same fate. One battle was only the beginning of something much larger, but none of it would be possible if they faltered now.

Simut sat on the command throne of the Sun of Endings contemplating the events that had befallen his fleet. How had a single enemy ship sown such disarray? Which of his underlings had failed so miserably that the majestic Barge of the Stormhawk was now a splintered, blackened ruin upon the surface of a barbarian world? All protocols had been followed as decreed, yet the enemy had struck in such a way that every conceivable defence had been neutralised.

It all stemmed from the unknown shadowcloak that had prevented their early detection. Whatever technology they had employed was now defunct, however. The tomb ship’s sensors could clearly pick up the enemy ship in close proximity to the artificial satellite. Other ships had gathered in orbit also, forming a blockade against the depleted necron forces.

The only point of optimism was the continued survival of the resonator. If the enemy had realised its value…

That they had not discerned its purpose was odd. Reviewing the aliens’ actions pointed Simut to a single conclusion.

‘Their whole attack was aimed at eliminating me,’ he declared, drawing the attention of Phetos and Ah-hotep, who had been monitoring the renewed sensor data to formulate the next cascade to initiate. ‘How did they identify me? You saw how they came directly for the Barge of the Stormhawk. This was an assassination attempt!’

‘Impossible,’ said Ah-hotep. ‘Who would know that we are here?’

‘A traitor,’ snarled Simut, fists clenched. ‘Not Phetos. He could no more betray me than tear off his own legs.’

‘If you commanded it, I would make the attempt, Lord of the Golden Dunes.’

‘A rival in one of the other dynasties?’ suggested Ah-hotep. ‘One of the Sautekh? Mephrit?’

‘My cousin has kept his personal project secret. No others know of his ambition.’

‘The experiment proceeds with success, Eagle of the Void. Another may have noticed the effect we are having on the neversea. A rival with power and influence might have discerned your involvement in some way, and is using the humans as proxies rather than revealing their hand.’

‘An unlikely supposition, my lord,’ said Ah-hotep, drifting closer. ‘Yet the attack displayed remarkable knowledge of our protocols. Perhaps it–’