‘You won’t need them,’ Minka said. ‘We’re either dead or we’re not. We’re not heading over there for a picnic.’

Blanchez nodded. ‘Fair enough,’ she said, and called out as she tossed away the water bottle and ration packs, ‘No need for ­rations, apparently. Except you, Baine. I think you’ll need a snack.’

Minka took the slab jerky from her ration pack, then tossed the rest out. She started chewing and took a swig of her water bottle, then screwed the lid back on.

In the end she had got rid of everything but her armour, webbing, grenades, powercells, laspistol and combat blade. Done, she thought. She felt lighter already. Truth was, it was good to get rid of possessions. All they did was weigh you down. She went along the line, helping the others.

She was ready. She went back to her squad.

Jaromir had hit a mental block. He was staring at his pack unable to decide what to get rid of next. He was trying to say something. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came.

‘Want me to do it?’ Minka said.

Jaromir looked blankly at her.

‘Shall I do it?’ she said again.

Jaromir looked up at her and then he looked back down at his bag.

‘I’ll do it,’ Minka said.

‘Thank you.’

She went through it with the same ruthlessness as her own but left the water bottle and ration pack inside. He would be strong enough to carry it and Jaromir’s injury meant that he needed something predictable to soothe him. Food would be perfect, she thought.

‘Can you come and sort my pack out?’ Orugi called out.

‘Sure,’ Minka said, and she strode towards him and dumped a bunch of demo charges into his bag. ‘Here!’ she said, pulling the bag onto his shoulders. ‘Take that.’

The grav-palanquin of Saint Ignatzio made its way to the assault tunnels where the other companies had already assembled in full battle gear.

Bendikt nodded. ‘It will be like the old days,’ he said to Colonel Baytov. There was a touch of wistfulness to his voice. There was a long pause. ‘We did not fail, did we?’

Mere looked up. ‘What do you mean, sir?’ Baytov said.

‘Cadia,’ Bendikt said bluntly. ‘At night, when I cannot sleep, there are voices in my head that tell me we failed. There were times a few years ago when it was very dark.’

Baytov nodded. He had suspected the same. He had felt it too. Every Cadian had to balance guilt within themselves. Their ­ancient duty had been to act as the buffer between the Imperium and the spawn of the warp. To shield mankind from the filth that vomited out from the Eye of Terror.

And they had failed.