She ripped her veil free, spitting a bubbling curse as she did so, and Radimir found himself staring straight into the void.

Only his reflexes saved him. Even he, servant of the Great Powers though he was, didn’t have the strength of mind to endure the gaze of a Navigator’s warp eye and keep his sanity. He felt the edges of his psyche starting to unravel and managed to close his eyes in the split second before he was lost in her stare for what would surely have been a subjective eternity, then lashed out with his knife. It was a blind strike, and Radimir wasn’t used to fighting blind, but it was good enough. His blade found its mark, punching up and through her jaw, and he felt the wash of warm blood over his fingers. Her hand flailed at his for a moment, but it had lost its previous strength, and he drove the blade deeper with a grunt and a shove. It must have passed a critical threshold into her brain: the Navigator went limp with a sigh, and moved no more.

Radimir withdrew his knife and cautiously opened his eyes, then went to work on her forehead as well, covering her warp eye with his hand as he cut, just to be sure. He got her eye out in a matter of seconds, dropped it into his belt pouch and wiped his blade clean on the taller Navigator’s robes. Now it was definitely time to leave…

The door crashed open to admit a woman with a shotgun, who slapped the wall as she entered. There must have been a settings switch there, as the room’s illumination suddenly kicked up to full. Radimir blinked desperately as the song of darkness ceased entirely.

‘Who the–?’ Nansi began, raising her shotgun to her shoulder and bringing both barrels to bear on him.

Radimir was faster. He snatched up the autopistol again and fired, half-pulping her skull. Nansi fell backwards, collided with the door and knocked it shut as she slumped to the floor, the shotgun slipping from her hands.

Screams from outside, running footsteps, and light, cursed light everywhere. Radimir had been trained in combat by his masters, but he’d seen how many people were in the bar. The gangers, the manufactorum workers… If they decided to investigate, and wanted vengeance for the woman who served them alcohol every day, then he would die. The gangers would probably be armed, too. The door was out of the question, and he couldn’t stay here.

There were four uplighters, one on each wall. He took aim at each in turn and pulled the trigger. The first one dissolved in a shower of sparks, then the second. Then the third.

The Encarmine buzzed an alert as he turned to the fourth. It was out of ammunition.