Chapters (41)
- Cover
- Backlist
- Warhammer 40,000
- Preface
- Chapter one
- Chapter two
- Chapter three
- Chapter four
- Chapter five
- Chapter six
- Chapter seven
- Chapter eight
- Chapter nine
- Chapter ten
- Chapter eleven
- Chapter twelve
- Chapter thirteen
- Chapter fourteen
- Chapter fifteen
- Chapter sixteen
- Chapter seventeen
- Chapter eighteen
- Chapter nineteen
- Chapter twenty
- Chapter twenty-one
- Chapter twenty-two
- Chapter twenty-three
- Chapter twenty-four
- Chapter twenty-five
- Chapter twenty-six
- Chapter twenty-seven
- Chapter twenty-eight
- Chapter twenty-nine
- Chapter thirty
- Chapter thirty-one
- Chapter thirty-two
- Chapter thirty-three
- Postface
- About the Author
- An Extract from ‘Dawn of Fire: Avenging Son’
- A Black Library Publication
And I worried the wrong response might invite unpleasant consequences.
‘My department has produced prior picts extolling the Aeronautica Imperialis,’ I said. ‘But they are not our finest work. I am here to change that.’
‘Commendable,’ she said, nodding. ‘But not the answer to the question I asked. Why here? There must be a million such conflicts across the galaxy. What drew you to Subsector Yossarian? Why are you on my planet?’
Her words were perfectly polite, her manner hinting nothing beyond a passing curiosity. But she overestimated her guile, a common failing among our aristocrats. They spend their lives surrounded by people who acquiesce to their every whim and laugh at their most pitiful jokes, and therefore struggle to accurately assess their own talents. The result is individuals of stupendous self-confidence but limited self-awareness.
But this was her planet, and offending her would be unwise.
‘May I be candid?’ I asked.
She nodded, as though granting special dispensation.
‘I am here because I have a particular interest in the project. But this world was chosen because the governor of Hedon is, like you, concerned by how long this conflict has drawn out. And recruitment is suffering.’
‘Surely that is what conscription is for?’
‘It has a place,’ I said. ‘But it can be resource intensive. Why rely on conscription when we can instead inspire the loyal masses to throw themselves into the fray? And, where the Navy are concerned, it is skilled workers we seek, rather than simply strength in numbers.’
‘So, you seek to woo more workers?’
‘In part,’ I said, nodding. ‘But Governor Zanwich also desires a pict demonstrating that our forces are overcoming the orks, and that the sector should not be concerned by the conflict escalating.’
‘Well, there we agree,’ she said. ‘Though perhaps the most expedient solution would be putting someone new in charge. I have no doubt Wing Commander Prospherous is a capable soldier, but I suspect he is out of his depth.’
‘I could not comment. But, even were it within Governor Zanwich’s power to dismiss him, I doubt the governor would support appointing a new commander. It might indicate the war is… not going as well as has been previously suggested.’
‘Ah,’ she said, glancing to the window. ‘And Governor Zanwich fears that could impact on Hedon’s coffers?’
I nodded. Hedon was a garden world, a meticulously terraformed paradise. It was a retreat for the elite of the Imperium, somewhere idyllic where they could bathe in crystal waters, survey beautiful landscapes, and enjoy the most exquisite food and company. If it were known Hedon neighboured a planet that was rapidly devolving into a warzone, it might discourage their clientele.
‘Then you are here to show our inevitable victory?’ she said.
‘It was not quite put to me in those terms. But I suspect my role is, in part, to demonstrate the inevitability of victory.’