Carya nodded. That we can play to our advantage.'

'Indeed, her forward armament is formidable, however. Typhon has an array of bow-mounted lances, and more in turrets that prey abeam and ahead. If he pulls alongside us, we're finished/ he concluded grimly.

We'll keep the behemoth out of our baffles, then/ said the shipmaster. Watch the reactor temperatures!'

'How did he guess?' Decius snarled at his commander. 'Could it not be a coincidence? Perhaps he is only taking the ship to another orbit?'

'He knows/ Garro repeated Sendek's words. This was inevitable.'

'But how?' demanded the younger Astartes. 'Did he have a seer pluck your intentions from the ether?'

Garro's eyes strayed to the vox alcove and met those of the man cowering there, his face pale and sweaty. 'Nothing so arcane/ said the battle-captain, reading the truth in the naval officer's expression. In three swift steps he was across the bridge chamber and dragging Maas to his feet. The vox officer appeared to have been crying. 'You/ growled Garro, his eyes turning flinty. 'You alerted Typhon.'

Hanging there in his grip, Maas suddenly jerked and flailed at Garro, weak blows rebounding off his power armour. 'Traitor bastard!' he shouted. 'You're all conspirators! You've killed us with your duplicity!'

'Fool!' Carya retorted. 'These are the Emperor's men. It's you that's the traitor, you arrogant dolt!'

'My oath is to the fleet. I serve the Warmaster Horus!' Maas bellowed as he started to weep. 'Until death!'

'Yes/ agreed Garro, and with a savage twist of his wrist, the Death Guard broke the vox officer's neck and let him drop to the floor.

There was only a breath of silence after the killing before Vought's voice called out across the bridge. 'Lance discharge, port rear quadrant! We're under attack!'

The crew turned their faces away from the viewports as a dazzling sword of white light crossed over the frigate's bow. The shot was a miss, but the edges of the lance's energy nimbus crackled over the exterior hull. On the bridge a handful of stations flickered and popped as the backwash raced through the control systems.

'I think he wants us to heave to,' muttered Qruze.

'A request so politely phrased as well,' said Sendek. 'We'll show him our exhausts by way of reply'

'Look sharp!' snapped Garro, turning away from the man he had just executed. 'Warn Hakur and the others to be ready for impacts and decompression! I want those civilians kept alive-'

The next shot was a hit.

AT THE PERIPHERY of its range, the lance fire from the Terminus Est was at its weakest, and yet the collimated beams of energy were still enough to inflict serious

damage on a ship with the tonnage of Eisenstein. The bolts cut through the void shields and sent them flickering. They raked over the dorsal hull at an oblique angle that tore decks open to space and ripped several portside gun turrets from their mountings.

Puffs of gas and flame popped and faded. Cascade discharges vaulted down the corridors of the frigate, blowing out relays and setting combustion. In a single secondary explosion, an entire compartment on one of the tertiary tiers became a brief, murderous firestorm as stored breathing gas canisters ignited.

A handful of Garro's men left there to stand guard died first as the air in their lungs turned to flames. The backdraft flooded over their bodies, torching the living quarters and sanctum of Eisenstein's small astropathic choir. Safety hatches slammed shut, but the damage was done, and with no more air to burn, the chambers became dead voids of blackened metal and ruined flesh.

Some of the impact transferred into kinetic energy that staggered the ship and made it list, but Carya's officers were battle-hardened and they did not let it turn them from their course. Terminus Est was moving upon them, the massive battleship filling the rearward pict screens with its deadly bulk.

'AN EXPLANATION, TYPHON,' growled Maloghurst over the crackling vox link, 'I await an explanation as to why you saw fit to draw me from my duties during this most important of operations'

The first captain grimaced, glad he did not have to look the Warmaster's equerry in the eye. There was no great esteem held between the Son of Horus and the Death Guard, a holdover from an incident years

earlier when they had disagreed fiercely over a matter of battlefield protocol. Typhon disliked the man's insouciant manner and his barely restrained arrogance. That Maloghurst was known by the epithet 'The Twisted' was, in Typhon's opinion, an all too accurate description. 'Forgive me, equerry/ he retorted, 'but I thought it important you be informed that your primarch's grand plans are in danger of faltering!'

'Don't test my patience, Death Guard! Shall I call your primarch to the vox to have him chastise you instead? Your ship has left the formation. What are you doing?'

'Attempting to excise an irritant. I have received warning that one of my battle-brothers, the lamentably conservative Captain Garro, has taken control of a frigate called the Eisenstein and even now attempts to flee the Isstvan system.' He leaned back in his command throne. 'Is that matter enough for your attention, or should I address myself directly to Horus instead?'

'Garro?' repeated Maloghurst. 'It was my understanding that Mortarion had dealt with him.'

Typhon snorted. 'The Death Lord has been too lenient. Garro should have been allowed to die of his wounds after the battle on Isstvan Extremis. Instead Mortarion hoped to turn him, and now we may pay for that folly'

Maloghurst was silent for a moment. Typhon could imagine his unpleasant face creased in thought. 'Where is he now?'

'I am pursuing the Eisenstein. I will destroy the ship if I can.'

The equerry sniffed archly. 'Where does Garro think he can go? The storms in the warp have grown fiercer

with every passing hour. A small vessel like that cannot hope to weather a journey through the immaterium. He'll be torn apart!'

'Perhaps,' admitted Typhon, 'but I would like to make sure.'

'I have your course on my data-slate,' said the other Astartes. 'You'll never catch him in that cumbersome barge of yours, he has too much distance on you.'

'I don't need to catch him, Maloghurst. I just need to wound him.'

Then do it, Typhon,' came the reply. 'If I am forced to inform Horus that word of his plans has been spread unchecked, it will be you who feels his displeasure soon after I do!'

The first captain made a throat-cutting gesture and his vox attendant severed the connection. He glanced down from his command throne to where the shipmaster of the Terminus Est was bowed and waiting.

The man spoke. 'Lord Typhon, the Eisenstein has altered her course. It's travelling at full burn towards Istvaan Ill's satellite, the White Moon.'

'Come to new heading,' snapped Typhon, rising once more. 'Match Eisenstein's course and get me a firing solution.'

The shipmaster faltered. 'Lord, the moon's gravity well-'

'That was not a request,' he growled.

'STILL WITH us.' Vought read the distance vectors from a pict-screen. Aspect change confirmed. Terminus Est is following, no other signs of pursuit.'

'Just so,' said Carya. 'Continue on a zigzag heading. Don't make it easy for Typhon's gunners to get a firing angle.'

Garro stood directly behind the shipmaster, looking over his head and out of the viewports. The stark, chalk-coloured surface of Isstvan Ill's largest moon steadily grew larger as he watched it, craters and mountains taking shape on the airless surface. To an untrained observer, it might have seemed like the frigate was on a collision course. 'Be honest with me.' Garro spoke qui-edy, so only Carya could hear him. What chance is there that Vought's computations will be in error?'

The dark-skinned man glanced up at him. 'She's very good, captain. The only reason she hasn't been given a ship of her own is because she has a few issues with fleet authority. I have faith in her.'