‘Your betrayal will not go unpunished, no matter what you think, Lowensten,’ snapped Aeschelus. ‘In this life or in the abyss, vengeance will find you.’

‘An accusation I have perhaps earned, captain, but you interrupted me before I could explain my actions.’

‘There is no excuse for heresy.’

‘I am no heretic. I might one day be remembered as a martyr. I have been inspired by your sacrifice. We have evacuated all but essential station ­personnel and are at this moment disengaging the gravitic stabilisers.’

‘Why would you do that? The stabilisers keep you in controlled orbit.’

The vox crackled with distorted laughter.

‘I know well what they do; they have literally sustained my family for many generations! They also keep the palaces on their fixed course around this world. The necron weaponship is out of range. We must break free from the ages-old orbit chosen by my ancestors. We will bring the station’s batteries to bear upon the structure and destroy it.’

‘Without the stabilisers, orbit will decay. Your palaces have no atmospheric entry integrity.’

‘I know, captain. This is my penance, our penance, for showing weakness. Nobody will remember it, of course, but I go to my death knowing I have done what I can to atone to the Emperor for my weaknesses and sins. Goodbye, Captain Aeschelus of the Ultramarines. I, Imperial Commander Kaleb Monfrottine Lowensten, abdicate and dissolve all authority for the Orestes System and of this moment place it in trust of the Ultramarines Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes, until by such convenience of the Adeptus Terra a worthy successor may be installed. These are my final and irreversible commands. For the Emperor, captain.’

‘For the Emperor,’ Aeschelus replied, but the vox had gone dead before he finished.

The battle took a turn for the bizarre. Nem­etus watched in disbelief as the necrons at the wall froze in place momentarily, some of them toppling over mid-stride, others falling down slopes or sliding over the broken masonry, bumping and tumbling on their way down. The keening of wind on wingtips heralded the arrival of the attack craft, plunging out of the sky. A few had been passing low and crashed into the terminal buildings and walls, slamming into the surrounding compound like mass driver shells, their detonations hurling aside troopers and necrons. Through the breaches the light from the gleaming transporter-engines flickered and died, the fortress-like machines listing sideways, settling to the ground or tipping like felled trees. Floating warrior-carriers crashed into the walls, spilling puppet-like silver skeletons across the ferrocrete, while stalking monstrosities teetered dangerously as they clambered over bulk transporters and shattered wall sections.

The disarray lasted for several seconds before the army resumed its advance in a far more fractured fashion. Several squads broke away to march towards the rear while many of the skeletal assailants walked directly into the remaining pockets of defenders, heedless of the storm of bullets and lasbolts crashing down into them, their own weapons firing sporadically.