‘Yes. My guess would be they intend to take the fight to Orbital Station Salus.’

‘But… that’s impossible.’

‘Of course it is,’ she said. ‘Orks cannot accomplish such a feat. Just like they cannot master matter transportation, or manufacture void-capable fighter craft. Right?’

Derision dripped from her voice, but I still could not fathom it. Orbital Station Salus dwarfed the ork sky-fortress and carried sufficient weaponry to erase it from the planet’s surface.

Yet, Shard’s words held a horrible truth. We continually underestimated the greenskins. Worse, we actively underplayed their threat; my very presence was proof of that fact. Governor Dolos had used her influence to downplay the danger, concerned only by the damage a full Imperial crusade could inflict on her world, or fearful of the scrutiny that might accompany it. Her reluctance to face reality may well have cost the Imperium the entire planet. Perhaps even more, assuming the orks were able to establish a holding point in the sector.

‘You think they can do it?’ I asked.

She shrugged. ‘I think they will try,’ she said. ‘The only question is whether they can stabilise a portal large enough. Otherwise, who knows what damage they will inflict? Perhaps everything for a hundred miles will be launched into space. Or Salus will be brought low and torn apart by the planet’s gravity? I do hope we maintain this connection – it will be fun finding out how our lives will end.’

‘What do we do, sir?’

I glanced to Plient, but he was intent on Shard.

‘Who is in charge?’ she asked, not looking round.

‘I don’t know, sir. Most of the officers are either dead or in the medical bay. I managed to speak to Lieutenant Quillte.’

‘And he said?’

‘Nothing much, sir. Nothing that warrants repeating anyway.’

‘No actual orders then?’

‘Not exactly, sir. Something about how I should do as I please because we were all lost and there is no hope.’

‘That’s it?’

‘He was drinking, sir. Only spoke between mouthfuls.’

‘Smart man that Quillte.’ Shard nodded, still intent on the swarm. Two more planes had just collided. Unsurprising, given the volume of orks occupying the space.

‘Sir?’

‘I’m relieved of duty, Plient. You need not call me “sir”.’

‘Please, sir?’

She turned away, bowing her head, fingers clasped to the bridge of her nose.

‘What exactly do you want me to do, Plient?’

‘Save us?’

She sighed, glancing to me, as though addressing a co-conspirator.

‘You see what I put up with?’ she said. ‘Save the day, Shard. Defeat impossible odds, Shard. Bring down the impossible enemy, Shard. As if it were that simple.’

‘It might not be simple. But it strikes me as the sort of thing Flight Commander Shard would do.’

She glared at me. ‘Simlex, is this a feeble attempt at manipulation?’