The lieutenant moved across the strategium while Aeschelus steadied himself, trying to ignore the hysterical outbursts from the astropath.

‘Too far,’ said Kosa, her voice drifting away from the vox pickup, becoming fainter. ‘We are moving past it. A hole–’

‘Sorry, captain. Kosa is not herself,’ Qurius, the youngest Navigator’s voice cut across. ‘This nothingness, it saps the soul. She has exposed herself too long.’

‘I feel it too,’ groaned Fedualis, pushing himself away from Praxa­medes. He appeared cogent for the time being. ‘Our souls are not reflected back from the warp! What is it, to live without our animus, our spirit, the light of the Emperor within us? It is the edge of the abyss, neither life nor death but the state of betweenness.’

‘He’s gibbering,’ said Nem­etus, but Aeschelus did not think so.

‘Navigator Qurius, would an astropathic pulse push us towards the opening?’

‘I am not sure I have the skill to ride such a subtle wave, captain,’ he replied. ‘But it is worth trying. I think the flash that Kosa saw was a warp drive breaching.’

‘A ship breaking into this nothingness? Is that possible?’ said Aeschelus.

‘No, I do not think so, captain. It was very sharp. A detonation I would guess, opening a hole that we can use to break into realspace. The breach will collapse soon.’

‘I can do it,’ said Fedualis, straightening his torn robe. He looked sheepish and glanced nervously at Admonius. ‘I am myself again, Judiciar. I can do it.’

‘From here?’ said Praxa­medes.

‘As good a place as any, lieutenant.’

‘Do it,’ Aeschelus said sharply. He balled his fists, helpless in the face of these immaterial obstacles. He loathed having to put the fate of the ship in the hands – or minds – of these psykers, but there seemed no other option.

All eyes turned to the astropath as he steadied himself, standing a little apart from Praxa­medes and Admonius. The two Space Marines were tense, their postures instantly recognisable to the captain, ready to strike. Golden light flickered across the dead gaze of Fedualis, seeming to bring movement to the orbless sockets. His lips started to move, silent at first, his voice becoming a murmur. Aeschelus recognised the same kind of identification stream-syllables the astropath used before formal broadcasts, not only sending this detail to any would-be receiver but using the act itself as a focusing mantra. Several times he repeated the nonsense words, voice growing in strength.

‘Navigator, can you see anything happening?’ Aeschelus kept his voice quiet, the vox capable of picking up even the softest tones. It seemed an intrusion on the astropath to speak louder. ‘Can you see any effect?’

‘Nothing yet, captain,’ Qurius replied. There followed a bump and some whispered cursing.

‘I see it, captain,’ said Kosa, her voice husky. ‘The tiniest ripples of thought. It is not enough.’

Admonius leaned in closer to Fedualis. ‘Think harder, astropath.’