‘My Sisters,’ I begin, thinking of how I was sworn into Adelynn’s squad, and of all of the speeches I have heard before battles and campaigns. I think of readings and sermons and swearings-in. Grand words rise up inside me, but I find I can say none of them. They feel dishonest. Empty, as I have felt since waking.

‘I should have called for you days ago,’ I find myself saying instead. ‘I should have done so the moment that I was granted the sword.’

I draw it then and hold it out in front of me.

‘I wanted to learn the art of such a sword before I stood before you,’ I say. ‘I wanted to understand it. But it is only in standing here now that I think I do, because the sword means nothing without the nine of you.’

I look at them in turn.

‘We have all lost. All suffered. And we will do so many more times as the God-Emperor intends, blessed be His name. All that I ask is to suffer with you, as your Sister.’

There is a long, aching moment of silence where all that I can hear is the crackling of candles, and the hum of the Vow’s engines, but then one of them speaks. I expect it to be Ashava, who knows me best, or Qi-Oh, who is known for being quick with her words, but it isn’t.

‘Aye, Sister Superior.’ Eugenia’s voice is soft and measured and carries the sort of stillness that makes me think of prayer. She is the first to speak, but not the last. Every one of the women standing before me echoes her words. They bow their heads, just a little, and make the sign of the aquila with their gauntleted hands.

‘We have all lost,’ I say again, ‘but I swear to you now that we will all have vengeance against the darkness and those that take shape in it, by blade and by fire. By the will of the God-Emperor of Mankind.’

There is no momentary silence this time. They all answer me immediately.

‘Vengeance,’ my Sisters say, as one. ‘By His will.’

After the chapel, I meet with each of my squad alone, in turn. I let them choose the place and the means of it because it is what Adelynn did when I first joined her squad all those years ago. She said that it helped her to see the truth of me, and what I needed from her.

Calyth is first. Her choice of meeting place is one of the lowdeck chapels. It is a place used not by Sisters of the Orders, but by the crew. The little chapel is not so solemn as our halls of worship. Hundreds and hundreds of votive decorations in the shape of fleurs-de-lys are pinned all along the walls, so many that they have started to overlap. They turn gently in the recycled air, each one made from offcuts of different coloured cloth. Yellow, blue, red and green. I even catch sight of the gold worn by officers amidst the riot.