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heard by both of the Ice Warriors name…checked therein。
“Better get yourself back on your feet then； my friend；” said Barreski； “because if we want to
report to Colonel Stanislev Steele on time； I’d say we’ve got a long； dangerous walk ahead of us。”
Calchas Spaceport was teeming with Guardsmen； many of them lost； unable to hear their orders
over the roar of an incoming lander。 The ship was trying to squeeze its bristling form into a tight
spot between a near…identical vessel and an older； scarred Ironclad。 The Navy had assigned all the
craft it could spare； all that could reach Cressida in time； to the evacuation effort； whatever their
usual function。
13
The lander set down； at last； and its engines cut out； but those of another； departing ship had
already fired up。 Sergeants yelled themselves hoarse to be heard over the continuing racket；
marshalling their troopers to the loading ramps。 From the window beside Trooper Blonsky’s head；
the Guardsmen looked like coloured ants； streaming across a concrete bowl into the bellies of the
great metal behemoths。
His interrogator delivered a backhanded slap to his face； drawing a little blood and snapping his
attention back to the small； grey room in which he was seated。
“I asked you a question； Blonsky。” The lieutenant was from a Validian regiment。 Royal
Validians； they called themselves。 His uniform was red with highlights in polished gold； and he
displayed the same superior attitude that Blonsky had seen in so many of his breed。 He was probably
also one of the most senior officers on Cressida。 Most of the rest had been aboard the first ships to
leave — Blonsky’s Valhallan commanders excepted； of course。
He glanced down at his cuffed wrists； resting in his lap。 Then he looked up to meet his
interrogator’s glare； and he said calmly； “With all due respect； sir； I think I have answered it。 I have
given you a full account of my actions this morning。 I executed Sergeant Arkadin—”
“You killed him；” the Validian spat； “killed him in cold blood！”
“I executed him；” restated Blonsky； “because he was a deserter。”
The lieutenant’s nostrils flared。 “Arkadin was a good friend of mine。 If you had reason to doubt
his courage； you should have come to me or to one of his other commanders。 What evidence do you
have； what evidence could you have； to support this claim？”
“I have the evidence of my own senses； sir。 My platoon was fighting a horde of mutants when I
was separated from them by an explosion。 I took cover in an old storage depot。 That’s where I
encountered Sergeant Arkadin。 I believe he had been hiding in there for some time。”
“Did he tell you that？” asked the lieutenant sharply。
“No sir；” said Blonsky； “but it was evident from his body language that—”
“I don’t want to hear about his body language。”
“Very well。 The mutants must have seen me entering the building。 I had barricaded the door as
best I could； but they were starting to batter it down。 I was prepared to meet them with las…fire； but
Sergeant Arkadin threw down his gun and tried to climb through the window。”
“I won’t accept that！” The lieutenant drove a frustrated fist into the table between them。 “You
made a mistake； Trooper Blonsky。 Sergeant Arkadin is — was — an excellent tactician。 No doubt
he thought that； if he could escape from the depot； he could circle behind your attackers and—”
“He had thrown down his gun； sir！”
“What right do you have to judge one of us？” the Validian hissed。
“May I ask again； sir；” said Blonsky； “if my commanders have been informed of my detention。
By rights； one of them ought to be here。” He could tell from the lieutenant’s stony silence that the
answer to his question was no。
He sighed； and restated for what seemed like the hundredth time； “Sergeant Arkadin was a
deserter。 I shot him； in accordance with standing orders； before he could—”
“No！” the lieutenant bellowed。 Blonsky stopped talking。 No one was listening anyway。
A long silence followed； during which his interrogator stared out of another window at the
activity in the spaceport below。 Perhaps he was worrying about his own place on one of those ships；
wondering how much longer he could afford to wait behind。
“You were lucky；” said the lieutenant at last； in a somewhat quieter voice； “that my platoon was
in the area； that those mutants died before they could break down the door and reach you。 I only
wish they could have been in time to save my sergeant。”
“I wish that too； sir。”
“As far as I am concerned； Trooper Blonsky； you killed Sergeant Arkadin without reason。 I
don’t know why。 Perhaps you were the would…be deserter； and he was standing in your way。 The
14
only way to be sure would be to convene a formal tribunal with； as you say； your commanders
present。 Under the circumstances； that would take some time。 It would also mean blackening a good
man’s name； by airing these scurrilous accusations against him。”
“If you say so； sir。” Blonsky could see from the lieutenant’s bearing； the way he could no longer
quite meet his prisoner’s eye； that he wanted to believe what he was saying； wanted it so much； but
that he couldn’t be entirely sure。
The lieutenant let out a heavy sigh； and said； “Go on。 Get out of here。 It would be a mercy to
keep you off the front line anyway。 You belong to the Valhallan 319th； yes？ The regiment that is to
stay behind； that is to be sacrificed。 Well； then； Trooper Blonsky； if you are so zealous； so damn
loyal to the Emperor； then this is your chance to prove it； isn’t it？ This is your chance to make sure
you die for Him！”
15
CHAPTER THREE
Time to Destruction of Cressida： 45。57。14
The sight of the Termite stirred something in Sergeant Ivon Gavotski’s heart。
It was just a small vehicle； its chassis almost outweighed by the great cylindrical borer it
supported — but it had been given a distinctively Valhallan make…over； painted with white and
green snow camouflage patterns。 Six flamer emplacements had been added to its sides and four
more flamers mounted on the borer itself。
Gavotski had heard the story many times； of course — about how； after his home world had
been hit by an asteroid； after its lush fields had become frozen wastelands； his distant ancestors had
struggled to survive。 An ork invasion must have seemed like one misfortune too many； back then —
but it had given the Valhallans a reason to fight back； a tangible goal to achieve。
The precise schematics of the ice…boring vehicle they had developed had been lost to history。
But this Termite was the nearest thing； in the modern world； to the vehicle that had won the
Valhallans their war — the nearest thing to the vehicle that had given them mastery of their changed
environment； allowing them to tunnel through the hearts of the glaciers and to strike at the ork mobs
where they least expected。
A single Termite wouldn’t win this war — but with Cressida becoming more and more like
Valhalla each day； it could at least carry one squad of Ice Warriors to where they needed to be。 That
was； if Gavotski could find it a squad to carry。
He had sent out the orders over two hours ago。 Trooper Mikhaelev had been the first to report in：
a quiet； lean； thin…faced man； not at all what Gavotski had been expecting from a heavy weapons
expert。 Anakora had arrived next； her face impassive； her eyes dead even as she had told Gavotski
what an honour it was to be assigned to him。 Then Blonsky had come in； his narrow； black eyes
forever darting about him； alert like a hawk。
That； so far； had been it； apart from a few garbled vox messages。 Two of Gavotski’s draftees
were listed as dead； three as missing in action； although efforts were ongoing to locate them。 Of the
remaining four； including his reserve choices； he had heard and seen nothing。 It was with some
relief； then； that he greeted the approach of a Chimera； although even the jaded sergeant couldn’t
help but raise an eyebrouscular trooper hanging from its side。
The hitchhiker didn’t wait for the vehicle to stop。 He hopped down and ambled up to Gavotski；
his broad； toothy grin a bright white behind his black beard。
“Trooper Borscz； sergeant；” he introduced himself。 “Apologies for my late arrival； but your first
message did not get through。 Machines； you know。”
Gavotski introduced himself in turn； held up a hand to stem Borscz’s eager questions； and
indicated that he should wait beside the Termite with the others。 As the newcomer moved to obey；
the sergeant noted that his eyes flickered； as all their eyes had； towards the brooding figure of
Colonel Stanislev Steele。
Steele stood a few metres away； his power sword at his hip； observing all with a cool but shrewd
gaze。 His bionic right eye glinted in the light of a flaring explosion in the sky； but there were no
other outward signs of his internal augmetics。
It was said by some that Steele’s emotions had been neutered by his cybernetic grafts； that he
had become cold； unfeeling。 Gavotski could see how that myth had been born。 He counted himself
privileged； however； to be one of the few who knew the truth。
16
The Chimera had come to a halt； and another two Ice Warriors emerged； exchanging amiable
b