Dolos kicked me under the table. I winced but Prospherous seemed not to notice. He was leaning back in his chair, gaze fixed on the ceiling. A strange noise escaped his lips, like something was caught in his throat. It took me a moment to realise he was sniggering, or attempting an approximation of it.

‘Of course they do,’ Prospherous nodded. ‘When a planet is under siege the best approach is to commission a pict underplaying the threat. Not waste time with additional resources, or manpower, or even petitioning the Adeptus Astartes for assistance.’

He seemed lost in thought. I glanced to Governor Dolos, but she was quite still. As a noble she was accustomed to diplomacy, and knew when a cause was better served by bold words or pointed silence.

‘What do you require, exactly?’ Prospherous murmured. ‘A quick parade? Some shots of aircraft zooming by? I can spare you a brief interview, but I refuse to discuss an active warzone with a civilian.’

‘That is very generous, sir,’ I said. ‘But I do not wish to trouble you or disrupt the war effort. My assignment is to capture the truth of conflict, not an orchestrated spectacle.’

‘The truth?’ he said. ‘Have you seen war’s true face?’

‘I have been on battlefields, sir.’

‘During the conflict?’

I paused. ‘Adjacent to it, sir.’

‘And this pict of yours, this accurate depiction of war, this is what the governor wants?’

‘It’s why I was chosen.’

‘Hmm,’ he said, not quite believing me. That was fair, as Governor Zanwich had not provided details concerning his cinematic preferences. During our brief discussion he had dedicated the first few minutes to ranting about how the damnable gloom-mongers were depressing trade in the sector, and that he needed a pict to silence them. He spent the remainder admonishing his servants for permitting the sun to set so early, and demanding his residence be remodelled and neighbouring buildings demolished so his balcony enjoyed another hour of evening light.

Still, it was true he had approved the project and bestowed upon me his authority. I had his hastily scrawled signature on the commissioning papers to prove it.

‘I read your file, Simlex,’ Prospherous said, retrieving a data-slate from his desk.

‘Sir?’

‘You have something of a reputation. I confess I saw a couple of your picts, and one was actually used in training as an exemplar. But from what I saw, you arrive when the fighting is over. You see the aftermath.’

‘That’s true, sir.’

‘Real war does not follow a script. There is chaos, unexpected reversals, and opportunities. Even in a ground war, you could not absorb the scale of the battle. How do you expect to capture a war fought thousands of feet above your head, at speeds you could not comprehend?’

‘I admit it is a challenge. But I am a slender man, and I am sure I can squeeze–’