The bunker door swung open, and I found Shard standing on the far side. Her uniform was stained by the God-Emperor knew what, though the smell suggested some xenos secretions. She had her sword slung on her hip, and her cap was missing, as was Kikazar. Though I had assigned the seer-skull to discreetly monitor her conversation, there was no sign of it.

‘Been visiting the infirm?’ she asked. ‘Or just taking a few picts?’

‘I am not in the mood,’ I replied, attempting to push past her. But her arm shot out, seizing my shoulder, the grip unbreakable.

‘Soldiers do not have the luxury of moods.’

‘I’m not a soldier.’

‘Perhaps. But neither was Plient. Not really. He was a simple soul who was inspired to serve the Imperium despite lacking the ruthlessness or sadism the role requires. In a well-ordered universe, he’d toil away in some quiet backwater mending broken things. But the Imperium required otherwise, and someone like you convinced him his place was here.’

‘I do not have to answer to you.’

‘No,’ she said, nodding to the medi-bay’s entrance. ‘But you must answer to him.’

‘I answer to my superiors,’ I replied, tearing free from her grip. ‘I have a duty just like you. Perhaps my work will condemn some to the infirmary or worse. But there are wars that must be fought. This whole planet is proof of that.’

She smiled. How I had grown to hate it.

‘And how are your superiors?’ she asked. ‘Do you think they will be satisfied with your work? I heard you enjoyed a nice boat trip the other day. What a scintillating pict that will inspire.’

‘What do you want from me? You think it wise to reject an invitation from the planetary governor?’

‘No. But neither is acquiescing to her whims. No matter how charming she is, or how appealing she looks in those robes, you should not trust her. Believe me.’

‘Are your whims any better?’

She made a sound that might almost have been a chuckle.

‘Do you know what I want?’ she asked.

‘Enlighten me.’

‘To end this,’ she said. ‘To lead the assault on whatever lurks within that storm and eliminate it. This so-called Green Storm has claimed the lives of so many pilots, and nearly killed Plient. He might be an idiot, but he’s the only one around here who I trust to keep me airborne.’

‘How noble,’ I sneered. ‘Do you expect me to believe you? That you are motivated by altruism? You just desire another scalp for your collection.’