Free Necropolis by Dan Abnett

murmured back.
    Gaunt stepped up to the chart table, pulling off his gloves and studying the display. Then he looked up and nodded a frank greeting to Nash.
    “Well met, general.”
    “Good to see you, commissar,” Nash replied. Their forces had served alongside each other on Monthax and there was a genuine, mutual admiration.
    Gaunt greeted the Narmenian officers too, then looked over at Sturm, Gilbear and the other Volpone, who stared icily at him.
    “General Sturm. Always a pleasure. And Major Gilbear.”
    Gilbear was about to blurt out something but Sturm stepped forward, offering his hand to Gaunt.
    “Gilbear’s bravery on Monthax has earned him a colonel’s pips, Gaunt.”
    “Well done, Gilbear,” Gaunt smiled broadly. He shook the general’s hand firmly.
    “Good to know we have more brave, reliable Guard forces here with us, Gaunt. Welcome.”
    Gaunt smiled to himself. The last time he had met Sturm in person, back on Voltemand, the pompous ass had been threatening him with court martial. Gaunt had not forgotten that Sturm’s callous leadership had resulted in heavy losses in the Ghost ranks from friendly artillery.
    You’re only putting on this show of comradeship so you can look good in the eyes of the local grandees, Gaunt thought, returning Sturm’s gaze with unblinking directness. You are an unspeakable wretch and I regret this place has the likes of you to look after it. But Gaunt was a political animal as well as a combat leader, and he knew how to play this game as well as any runt general. He said, “I’m sure our worthy brothers of the Volpone could handle this alone.”
    Sturm nodded as the handshake broke, clearly trying to work out if there had been some cloaked insult in Gaunt’s compliment.
    “From your opening remark, may we presume you believe the loss of Vannick Hive is deliberate?” Kowle stepped forward to face Gaunt. The Imperial commissars nodded a stiff greeting to each other.
    “Commissar Kowle, the People’s Hero. It’s been a long time since Bal-haut.”
    “But the memories never fade,” Kowle replied.
    Gaunt turned away from him. “Kowle judges my words correctly. The enemy has destroyed Vannick Hive deliberately. Can there be any other explanation for a nuclear event?”
    “Suicide,” Grizmund said. “Overrun, overwhelmed, perhaps a last act of desperation in the face of a victorious foe. A detonation of the hive’s power plant.”
    Several Vervun officers expressed dismay.
    “You are new to Verghast, general, so we will not think badly of your comment,” Tarrian said softly. “But no Verghastite would be so craven as to self-destruct in the face of the enemy. The hives are everything, praise the Emperor. Through them and their output, we hallow and honour him. Vannick Hive would no more destroy itself than we would.”
    Many around the chart table averred.
    “Brave words,” Grizmund said. “But if this hive was conquered, Emperor save us… Would you let it fall into the hands of the enemy?”
    Various voices rose in anger, but Gaunt’s words cut them to quiet. “I’m sure the general here is not questioning any loyalties. And he may have a point, but I think it doubtful Vannick Hive succumbed to anything other than an invader’s wrath.”
    “But why?” barked Croe. “Again it comes back to this question! Invasion, conquest… I can understand those things! But to destroy what you have fought to take? Where is the sense?”
    “Marshal, we must face the darkest truth,” said Gaunt. “I have studied the data sent to me concerning this theatre. It seems that Commissar Kowle here has reported millions of foe, an assessment that beggars belief, given the proportional mustering capacity of a hive the size of Ferrozoica. The answer is there. Vervunhive can raise half a million from a forty million population. Zoica can only be raising millions from a population a third the size… if the entire population itself is being used.”
    “What?” Anko barked, laughing at the idea.
    “Go on, commissar,” Croe