‘For the Emperor!’ Nem­etus signed off, deactivating the strategic vox. He switched the channel to company address, speaking directly to every Space Marine across the strike force. ‘The enemy have sought to entrap us by our own doctrine, but it is time for some improvisation. Assault priorities have been changed. I will lead the landing with squads Temerity and Audacity, while support Intercessor squads will move up behind us and give covering fire if needed.’

At that moment an alarm wailed, warning of an enemy lock-on. No more than a second later, bright red flares of energy spat from one of the target ship’s secondary turrets, zipping past the incoming gunship.

‘Evasive manoeuvres, lieutenant?’ suggested the pilot, reminding Nem­etus that he had taken command of the controls.

‘You fly, brother. Take us in straight and fast,’ he replied, lifting his hands away from the guidance systems. ‘Suppressive fire on defence turrets.’

The gunners of the assault craft opened fire immediately, streams of bolts and heavier ordnance streaking out from wing and fuselage weapons, raking across the exterior of the ship ahead. More incoming fire erupted as the defence turrets found their range, rockets and spirit-guided missiles launching in blossoms of fire.

‘Sequential landing,’ Nem­etus continued. ‘Support fire from other two gunships during disembarkation. Then withdraw to safe distance until we eliminate the defence turrets.’

‘What about extraction?’ the pilot of Gunship Secundus asked across the vox.

‘Once we have seized the strategium we shall have control of their systems and you can come in. Speed, everyone. Speed and shock will win this day.’

‘Ten seconds, brother-lieutenant,’ his pilot warned.

‘Ready for void-jump, my lead,’ the lieutenant announced to the complement in the main compartment of the gunship.

Just as he was standing up, a clang against the canopy above Nem­etus presaged a sudden hissing. Ominous creaking followed for several seconds as a crack spread across the fractured armourglass. With a howl of escaping air, the broken canopy gave way, pieces of shattered pane hurled out into the vacuum.

Inside his sealed armour, Nem­etus was unharmed, and he punched the open rune to release the door between the cockpit and carriage chamber. The parchment tails of his purity seals fluttered as a fresh gust washed past him.

The Intercessors and Incursors were already on their feet, fifteen of them, filling the space with their bulk. Behind him, below the cockpit, the assault door levered open, revealing a glimpse of cold void before the gunship swung into the attack run, bright lasers and the flare of explosive shells almost obliterating Nem­etus’ view of the dark ship beyond. The lieutenant’s visor display flickered as his auto-senses filtered out the brightness, bringing the ragged edge of the hole that was their destination into sharper focus.