Friedisch unholstered his laspistol. He still held it like it might burn him, and he peered suspiciously about. Cawl glanced at the gun. 'Try not to shoot anyone unless it's really necessary. We're all of the Mechanicum. I am sure we can talk them around when we point out how hopeless the situation is.'

'Don't we need a Navigator?'

'Ah, now, that is a more pressing concern. There is one, a lower-ranked member of the Navis Nobilite in a sealed suspension blister, in the upper deck,' said Cawl. 'They'll be out cold. I'm sure that I can talk them—'

'You can talk them around?' interrupted Friedisch. He waved his lasgun around. 'You can't talk everyone around! What is this obsession with talking to everyone? You are insane!'

'You're being hysterical.'

'I am not! I am… I am…' He bowed his head. 'I don't what I am.'

'You didn't have to come.'

'No, I could have stayed here and been killed!' Friedisch wiped his sleeve across his sweaty forehead. 'A week ago I was on a nice, smooth career track.'

'War ruins the plans of everyone, Friedisch,' said Cawl sympathetically.

'What if they don't want to be talked around?' said Friedisch. As they walked towards the flight deck, the ship was coming alive. It was gloriously appointed, lovingly maintained. Functional parts of the vessel were framed like artworks, visible through polished diamond glass panels edged in gleaming brass.

'We'!! deal with it,' said Cawl.

They reached the flight deck quickly. It was small, fronted by an oculus covered by an internal steel iris shutter. In the limited space were three seats for a captain, pilot and systems operative, and stations for two supplementary servitor crew. All were absent, the manifold hardlines that would plug the crew in lay neatly upon stirrup rests on the desks. Tez-Lar marched to a servitor station and plugged himself in with robotic stolidity.

A powerful impact rocked the ship, destroying the illusion of tranquillity.

Friedisch flinched. 'Be calm! That was a hit on the hangar bay, not the ship,' said Cawl. 'But we don't have much time,' he added quietly.

Cawl approached the two forward desks. He looked from one to the other, and chose the leftmost.

'This one, I believe.'

'How can you pilot a void ship?' shrieked Friedisch.

'You are asking that now?' Cawl shook his head as he plugged the manifold feeds into input sockets in his chest and skull, and sat himself in the seat. 'Who do you think was going to do it? You don't think ahead, Friedisch.'

'It's been a long day!' Friedisch snapped.

'I can do a lot of things that you are unaware of,' said Cawl. 'Now be quiet. I've only read about this, and this is hardly a situation conducive to easy flying.'

'You mean you've never done this before?' whispered Friedisch.