‘Very well.’ For all her talk of ‘no duress’, she made clear she’s perfectly capable of imposing her will if I refuse. ‘An alliance, then.’ Chetta reached out and gripped the inquisitor’s hand in her own, feeling a certain thrill as she did so. Ever since she’d been a slip of a girl, the Inquisition had been a threat hanging over her head – a shadowy, remorseless group of fanatics so blinded by hatred that they sought any excuse to persecute the Navigator houses, no matter how loyal they were to the Emperor. And indeed, Chetta still had no doubt that many inquisitors and their retinues did indeed fit that description.

But that didn’t change the fact that having your childhood daemon suddenly proclaim itself to be on your side was a powerful rush.

‘So,’ she said, leaning on her cane. ‘Where should we begin?’

‘Brobantis Palace would seem the logical place,’ Ngiri suggested. ‘I assume you have any information regarding this investigation there? I can pull the appropriate data that I have from the gun-cutter’s memory banks, and–’

‘And?’ Chetta prompted, as the inquisitor suddenly stopped speaking and tilted her head slightly to one side.

‘…and we have a problem,’ Ngiri said, her face falling. ‘Sef! Prep my armour, I might need it. Davis, Fell, Carmine – prepare yourselves. Chetta, if you’d mind accompanying me to the cockpit?’

The inquisitor’s followers moved quickly, a well-coordinated machine, free of panic or uncertainty. Ngiri herself was already making for a hatch in the bulkhead, and Chetta headed after her as fast as she was able to.

‘What’s this all about?’ she shouted at the inquisitor’s retreating back.

‘My pilot’s just intercepted a communication,’ Ngiri called over her shoulder. ‘I think you should hear it.’

‘And you couldn’t patch it down to where we were?’ Chetta grumbled, wincing as her hip complained at her. She stumped hastily past a couple of other hatches – doorways to personal quarters, perhaps, although there would be little enough room for such things on a shuttle this size – then tailed Ngiri into the cockpit.

It was a starlit cave of blinking lights, wavering gauges and mysterious levers. A high-definition auspex glowed on the main control panel, and Chetta could see the illuminated towers of Ascension City through the armourglass, like artificial cliffs rising out of the sea of murkier darkness that was the Smog Deeps. There were two pilot stations, but only one was occupied. Another red Adeptus Mechanicus hood turned towards her as she entered, and judging by the skeletal bionic hands gripping the controls, this one had no more flesh to them than Sef Lentzen.

‘Lady Brobantis, this is Jekri,’ Ngiri said. ‘They were skitarii before accompanying me, but they’ve shown a considerable talent for piloting. Jekri, if you would play the recording?’

The skitarius reached out and flicked a switch, and suddenly a panicked voice filled the cockpit.