‘I need a clear head in charge, Praxa­medes.’

‘I feel I should resent that remark,’ said Nem­etus, ‘but I cannot find an argument against it. Listen, brother. The captain is right. If you manage to get out of here, you need to get back to the Imperium-controlled sectors. I would likely get distracted. Run into orks or heretics and start a fight.’

‘That is a good point,’ said Aeschelus. ‘Also, you are already aboard, Prax, and time is our biggest enemy. The orbital palaces have been engaged by a necron force. We are bringing down as many troops as possible to the surface to make our stand there.’

‘I welcome such fine company,’ said Nem­etus.

‘It is only a matter of time until the xenos fleet closes in for the kill or the station’s weapons are enslaved to the xenos intrusion and open fire. You need to break away now. Your arrivals are Chaplain Exelloria, Fedualis and the palaces’ astropathic choir. Perhaps they will help break through the Impossibility Boundary.’

‘I understand, captain. Once we are through to warp space we won’t be able to communicate. I won’t be able to tell you if we are successful.’

‘I know you will do it, Prax. If someone can find a way, you can. I am entrusting the most important mission we have ever undertaken to you. This is your command.’

‘Go with the Emperor’s grace,’ said Nem­etus. ‘And remember to mention my name to the lord pri­march if you should happen to see him.’

‘Your deaths shall not be in vain,’ replied Praxa­medes. ‘This is ship command. Orders acknowledged. For the Emperor!’

‘For the Emperor,’ they echoed.

The vox snarled into dead static and then fell silent.

Nem­etus looked up and could see one of the immense lifter carriages descending a few thousand yards up. Not so much reinforcements as more meat into the grinder, but they would be cut to pieces if the station was overrun before they arrived.

The larger necron force was at the outer wall, slightly behind the first assault wave. His gaze was drawn by a crash of glass and shriek of ripping metal. Scanning the formations of xenos, he found that most of them were channelling through the main gateway of the terminal building. His best troops were stationed there – Eradicators and the Bladeguard, led by Judiciar Admonius. It was a bad tactic by the enemy, condensing the host onto a front that was too narrow for effective attack. When his gaze settled on a larger figure close to the forefront of the assault, a tripodal warrior with several arms surrounded by more three-legged constructs, he realised he was looking at a necron commander.

Time was its own victory. Perhaps there was still one more gambit, after all.