It seemed such a ludicrous thing to say, Aeschelus almost laughed. A strange detachment afflicted him as he watched the unfolding scene, as though he was starting to float away, like fighting in a zero-gravity encounter without anything to mag-lock onto. Stray thoughts from training, mundane moments of his life crowded into his mind, distracting and yet comforting. The captain shook his head, trying to focus.

Fedualis was standing as stiff as a boarding pike, trembling slightly inside his dark green robe and hood, the glow of his false eyes bright and mesmerising. There was a beat to the emanation, a rhythm to their aura that synchronised with Aeschelus’ pulse. He found himself again trying to remain present, to keep his thoughts honed to the unfolding event. Slowly, as one wading through sucking mud, he came to the conclusion that he might be suffering the soul-draining effect the Navigators had described. He came to this point without conclusion, feeling nothing at the realisation of this fact.

‘That is better,’ announced Kosa, her voice suddenly stark across the intervox, startling Aeschelus. The only sensation he could liken it to was the half-waking feeling he had encountered when he had been using his catalapsean node to rest portions of his brain on extended combat duty. Like surfacing from a daydream, the strategium swum into view after a few seconds of vagueness.

The nimbus of Fedualis’ energy was dimming and he struggled to pronounce the words of his mantra. Aeschelus shared the feeling of strength leaching away, the flicker of the golden light becoming a physical rendition of his own wavering attention. Fighting back a dizziness that should have been impossible to his enhanced physiology, he passed his gaze over the bridge crew. Most were standing slack-jawed and vacant. Only the Space Marines still moved with any purpose, and even they were sluggish in their actions.

‘It. Is. Working.’ Kosa’s voice was forced. She laughed, short and sharp. ‘We are moving…’

Praxa­medes turned to the warp engine controls with stilted movements and Nem­etus stepped away, returning slowly to his place at the Geller field console.

‘Traction increasing,’ Praxa­medes managed to report, bending close to the screens as though he had trouble seeing them.

‘Shock wave!’

The Navigator’s shout was a clarion call, rousing the Ultramarines from their soporific state for a few seconds.

‘The catastrophic breach has sent out a pulse,’ Kosa explained hurriedly. She started crying, sobbing between exclamations. ‘It will hit us. Send us away from the hole. Void-cursed! So close. So far.’

‘Can you move us through it?’ Aeschelus asked, addressing the question to anyone that cared to answer. He checked on Fedualis. Sweat streamed down the astropath’s wrinkled face, each bead a glistening drop of molten gold.

‘Geller field absorbing most of the output,’ said Praxa­medes. ‘Kosa was right.’

‘Incoming shock wave,’ warned Qurius. ‘Hitting us now.’