Kazzim-Aleph-1 clicked and whirred, lenses rotating beneath his hood. Su-Kassen looked at Rogal Dorn. The primarch was still, his eyes steady on the magos-emissary and the general. Niborran was Dorn’s man, she knew. Born in the rings of Saturn and raised in the disciplines of the Saturnine Ordos, he was a veteran sharpened by a century and a half of war, and time had not taken his edge. Of all the Imperial Army and Militia units on Terra, several hundreds of millions were now his to command, but here in this chamber and at this moment he was here to speak the words that Dorn could not.

‘The Fabricator General shall learn of this and make objection,’ said Kazzim-Aleph-1. ‘There are forces available. They should be moved to Mars.’

‘An enemy fleet the equal of that making for Mars is descending towards Luna,’ said Malcador mildly. The Regent reached out and keyed a control that set the holo-display slowly rotating again. He still looked exhausted and drained, but there was a spark of strength in his eyes and words. ‘Unless you would suggest leaving the orbits of Terra unguarded, honoured magos-emissary? If you are not suggesting stripping those defences, then you can only be referring to the Phalanx and its attendant ships.’

‘The principal Seventh Legion craft is of a size and capability that would make a significant statistical difference to the outcome of these engagements.’

‘The Phalanx is mine to command,’ said Rogal Dorn, his words falling like an axe at the end of the magos’ words. ‘It goes where I will it.’

Kazzim-Aleph-1 recoiled with a click of turning cogs, and then dipped his head slightly in what might have been a nod.

‘But you wait, brother,’ said Sanguinius. ‘Move it to either Mars or Luna and the enemy in those spheres will be banished and Horus’ failure will be sealed.’

Dorn’s eyes moved from the holo-display to his brother primarch. The two held each other’s gaze, and in the moment of quiet Su-Kassen spoke the question that had been asked again and again in the past weeks.

‘Where is Horus?’ Eyes and faces turned towards her. ‘If we believe our intelligence was flawed…’ She saw Malcador give the smallest movement of his head. ‘For all the enemies that we can see there must be more, and so where are they, and where is he?’

‘Waiting for the primary attacks to strike home,’ said Niborran. ‘Any forces he still has to deploy will be moving through the Elysian and Khthonic Gates. Even at best speed those fresh forces will not arrive in time to reinforce the two inner system assaults.’

‘But what do these two strikes at the inner system achieve?’

‘They pin us in place,’ said Niborran. ‘They keep us from moving forces to counter-assault into the outer system. They are the claw-holds for a rapid assault. That was your assessment before, admiral. Are you disavowing it now?’

Su-Kassen shook her head.