Not only had it been cathartic, but it had allowed troopers from other Cadian regiments that had been decimated by action or considered ‘lesser’, to be easily merged into the 101st. Nothing but amasec and ice, they had joked as they swapped their stories and memories and melded their many pasts into a new whole.

Minka’s squad had been two short of the requisite ten. ‘I’ll fix that for you,’ Colour Sergeant Tyson promised as he stood with a clipboard and scribe. Minka was still wary of him. He was a short, bullish man with an overlarge chin that was always shaved so close it looked pale blue.

‘Here are your two,’ he said, and waved the men forward. The first was Thuja Baine, a square man with a boxer’s face. Baine was a rough, bare-knuckle fighter with ‘Cadia Stands’ and the Imperial aquila tattooed in a band about his arm. What remained of his nose had long since been smeared across the left side of his face and reset in a crooked V. Minka herself had broken it a few months back, sparring.

He was shorter than she remembered. From the colour in his cheeks it was clear that he remembered her as well. She was used to this.

‘Baine, is it?’ she smiled, not giving him a chance to speak. ‘Welcome to Seventh Company.’

If Baine held a grudge, he did not show it. He smiled and shook her hand. ‘Greetings, sarge.’

The other man was Elias Orugi, a poseur with a bald head and neatly trimmed black goatee. A solid looking trooper, he had a burn scar on his right cheek that had left the skin stretched. His right eye had been replaced with a cheap field-augmetic of bare steel and simple red targeting orb.

‘Plasma overheat,’ he said when he caught the look in her eyes, ‘on Potence. But I’ve retained my marksmanship. Marksman, First Class.’

‘Welcome to Seventh Company,’ Minka repeated. ‘Don’t know if you’ve heard, but we’re heading back to El’Phanor.’

El’Phanor was an ancient warrior world that was being brought back to life. It was also the headquarters of this section of Imperial Command.

‘Can’t wait!’ Baine said. But it turned out that Minka had spoken too soon. Their orders had been altered and they were diverted.

‘It’s an emergency, apparently,’ Colour Sergeant Tyson told the collected officers of the 101st. He had to try to buoy up their spirits. ‘Local commanders have made an Imperial mess of things. We’ll go in and bang some heads together.’

The Right of Will had a smooth passage through the warp.