Minka closed her eyes. She didn’t want to remember Dido as someone who had felt she had to make that choice. She thought of a different world, one where she’d realised what was happening and had been able to help her out of that path. One where, years from now, Dido was training the next generation of White­shields with the same even hand she’d shown Minka when still a sergeant, sitting in the back of a Chimera rolling into the Evercity on Potence.

Minka recalled that moment as if it were yesterday. After the debacle of Markgraaf Hive, Minka had been a wreck, and Dido had taken her in. She’d been calm, confident, assured. Prassan had been there, Minka remembered. He had been prattling on about the cathedral and Dido had told him to shut up and Prassan had said, ‘Don’t you read any of the pre-landing reports?’

‘No,’ Dido had told him. ‘That’s what you bastards are for.’

Minka said a prayer to the God-Emperor as she looked down into the neat square hole. She was not stupid. This was the fate that awaited all of them. Death in the service of the God-Emperor.

But not today, she thought as she dropped the handful of soil in. It landed silently on the shroud below. The stillness was chilling. It was death.

Minka paused for a moment and lifted her head, taking in a deep, deep breath.

Father Keremm was standing shaking hands with each of them as they passed. Shand paused as he spoke to the priest.

Minka took her moment to slip away from both of them.

Away to the left the foundations for a chantry chapel were ­already being laid. A watch would be left and prayers offered up for the Cadian dead.

Minka turned her back on it all and walked slowly away. Their camp was already being packed up. Breve had reported that The Saint had been loaded onto a grav-pallet and was awaiting stowage in their transport. ‘I got her a new powerplant,’ he assured her with evident glee. ‘Out of the tank graveyard. She’s running better than ever!’

Minka forced a smile. Breve loved every unguent-soaked bolt of that Chimera. ‘I’m glad,’ she said.

‘Lieutenant Lesk,’ a voice called out. She knew who it was before she turned.

Chief Commissar Shand paced towards her. He looked strangely uncomfortable as he coughed to clear his throat, and then stood with his arms behind his back.

She waited for him to speak.

‘I investigated that matter,’ he started.

She waited.

‘It appears there is some truth to your accusation. Captain Midha has been taken in by his Commissariat. They want to know if you will testify.’

‘That he abandoned his positions? Absolutely.’

Shand nodded. ‘Good.’

‘Does this mean any censure is removed from my record?’

Shand paused. ‘Yes,’ he said.

She smiled. ‘Thank you.’

Shand bowed slightly and returned the way he had come.