Ciaphas Cain: Choose Your Enemies

By the time the first clash was over, the system defence boats Fire Wasp, Hornet, Pismire and Weevil were reduced to gutted hulks, the monitors Eternal Throne, Shield of Faith and Thought for the Day so thoroughly mauled that they were incapable of taking any further part in the defence of the system, and the decommissioned dreadnought87 Nerves of Steel was forced to withdraw with most of its weapons destroyed after slugging it out with one of the enemy battleships for the majority of the engagement.

Thus it was that, despite the best efforts of the system defence fleet, who heroically withdrew at that point to regroup, the eldar invaders were able to continue their inexorable – though undoubtedly weakened – advance towards Ironfound itself.

Only to find that Commissar Cain was already there, rallying the defenders of our beleaguered realm, and determined to lead them to victory in the Emperor’s name.

Ten

‘Commissar. Your reputation precedes you, of course.’ The planetary governor, Septimus Fulcher by name, bowed with an ornate flourish and a rustling of lace, which clung to his surcoat like ivy to a crumbling ruin. It seemed that punctilious adherence to elaborate etiquette was as much a feature of life on Ironfound as on Drechia. ‘The honour of this meeting is all mine.’

A meeting dictated by protocol, which demanded that the regiment’s senior officers reported to the governor in person as soon as possible after our arrival – which I have to say was fine by me, as he seemed to have been in the middle of some kind of soiree when Kasteen, Broklaw and I pitched up at his official residence, and I’ve never been averse to a sycophantic audience and free refreshment.

‘Likewise, I’m sure,’ I said, proffering a hand to shake. One of the advantages of that reputation, and the peripatetic nature of life in the Astra Militarum, was that local customs could generally be ignored unless there was some advantage to be had by following them; I’d long since perfected the persona of the plain, blunt military man, who said what I thought without fear or favour, and most civilians lapped it up. Particularly, for some reason, the ones most used to being toadied to.88 Which went a long way towards explaining how I got away with dissembling so much, as people tended to take whatever I said entirely at face value.

Most people, anyway. Amberley, I was sure, knew there was a great deal about me that I kept from the casual eye – but then it takes one to know one, and part of the reason we got on so well was that I knew better than to press her beyond anything she chose to show. I glanced in her direction, across the crowded ballroom, but she was engaged in earnest conversation with a middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed beard, in a plain brown robe of expensive material and even more expensive cut. An off-world merchant, if I was any judge, with social connections at the highest level on Ironfound, which would explain his presence here. Precisely the kind of man she would instinctively pump for information, which, distracted by the cut of her ball gown, exposing a precisely calculated degree of décolletage, he’d remain blissfully unaware of having imparted.

Fulcher took my hand with an easy smile, too practised at diplomatic games to be wrong-footed, and shook it firmly; but without trying to make a trial of strength of the exchange, which would have betrayed an underlying insecurity.

‘Oh, I rather doubt that,’ he said. ‘I’ll wager you’d much prefer to be getting ready to face the enemy than wasting time at a dreary social function.’ He smiled, in what seemed like a genuinely friendly manner. He had one of those faces which falls just sufficiently short of being conventionally handsome to seem warm and approachable, while still being exceptional enough to attract attention; I found myself wondering idly how much it had cost. His age appeared to be somewhere around the late forties, but something about the eyes made me think it was probably two or three times that.89 ‘It goes without saying that any assistance I can offer is yours for the asking.’

‘I’ll pass your kind offer along to the colonel,’ I said. ‘She’s around here somewhere.’ I turned my head, scanning the ballroom, and eventually spotted Kasteen, who was surrounded by a flock of the kind of callow young men easily impressed by the sight of a well-filled dress uniform. She glanced in my direction, met my eye with a smile, and went on recounting whichever anecdote she was holding her audience spellbound with, looking remarkably like a bon vivant contemplating which delicacy to pick from the evening’s menu.

‘No need,’ the governor assured me. ‘We’ve already spoken.’ Though he seemed completely relaxed, he clearly had a firm grasp of the essentials; not a man to underestimate, I found myself thinking. ‘She seems to be on top of things.’