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warrant　by　talking　to　an　officer　that　way？”
“Maybe；”　Bulaven　whispered　back。　“You　don’t　know　Chelkar　though；　new　fish。　In　seventeen
years　I　have　never　seen　him　be　afraid　of　anything。　If　there　is　something　that　needs　to　be　done；　he　is
the　man　to　do　it。　Whatever　the　cost。　All　the　same；　I　wonder　if　even　he　has　gone　too　far　this　time。　If
the　captain　should　vox　a　complaint　to　the　Commissariat…”
“Ach；　you　are　both　like　children　frightened　of　your　own　shadows；”　Davir　muttered　beside　them。
“You　especially　should　know　better；　Bulaven。　When　has　Chelkar　ever　failed　us？　The　sergeant
knows　what　he　is　doing。　These　artillery　monkeys　always　think　frontline　troops　are　crazy　to　begin
with。　This　arsehole　captain　won’t　dare　call　the　Commissariat。　Trust　me；　he　is　probably　already
soiling　himself　in　fear　and　is　giving　the　order　to　cease　fire　even　as　we　speak。”
Above；　as　though　in　confirmation　of　Davir’s　opinions；　the　guns　abruptly　fell　silent。　At　first　no
one　spoke；　all　of　them　listening　to　hear　whether　the　shelling　would　begin　again。　Until；　as　the　seconds
passed　into　a　full　minute　with　no　further　sound　of　explosions；　it　became　clear　the　bombardment　was
ended。
“There；　you　see；　Grishen？”　Chelkar　half…smiled。　“It　is　simply　a　matter　of　knowing　how　best　to
talk　to　these　people　to　get　your　point　across。”　Then；　taking　up　his　shotgun　once　more　and　turning
away　from　the　corporal；　Chelkar　noticed　every　man　in　the　dugout　was　looking　at　him　with　faces
caught　in　expressions　of　awe　and　gratitude。
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“It　was　nothing　so　much；”　Chelkar　said　to　them。　“Still；　it　was　probably　better　that　I　let　our　friend
the　captain　think　he　was　going　to　have　an　entire　regiment　after　his　blood　if　he　didn’t　stop　the
shelling。　If　he’d　known　the　902nd　Vardan　was　only　made　up　of　a　single　company　perhaps　he　would
have　felt　man　enough　to　take　us　all　on。　It　is　not　unusual　for　these　rear　echelon　heroes　to　have　a
bloated　sense　of　their　own　abilities。”
At　that　the　men　smiled；　some　even　laughed　in　nervous　relief。　Seeing　the　mood　of　reverence　had
been　successfully　dispelled；　the　sergeant’s　manner　became　more　business…like。
“All　right；”　he　said。　“Now；　enough　of　this　hiding　underground。　Back　to　your　posts。　We　don’t
want　to　leave　the　firing　trenches　undefended　and　make　the　orks　think　it　is　a　worthwhile　time
launching　another　attack。　Go　on。　Get　moving；　all　of　you。”
As　the　men　in　the　dugout　began　to　hurry　out　towards　their　trenches　again；　Larn’s　last　sight　of
Chelkar　came　as　he　saw　the　sergeant　turn　to　towards　Corporal　Grishen　once　more　with　further
instructions。
“Grishen；　I　want　you　to　contact　General　Headquarters；”　he　heard　the　sergeant　say。　“Inform　them
Sector　1…13　is　most　certainly　not　in　ork　hands　and　make　it　clear　we　would　consider　it　a　great
personal　favour　if　they　would　adjust　their　situation　maps　accordingly。　Oh；　and　you　had　better　try
voxing　Battery　Command　as　well　to　ask　them　if　in　future　they　could　please　refrain　from　ordering
people　to　shoot　at　us。　It　probably　won’t　work；　of　course。　But　I　suppose　we　should　at　least　pretend　we
believe　the　men　in　charge　of　this　war　have　some　idea　of　what　it　is　they　are　doing。”
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INTERLUDE
As　Above；　So　Below
or
Grand　Marshal　Kerchan　and　the　Genius　of　Command
By　any　standard　of　measurement；　the　war　was　going　badly。
Brooding　as　he　sat　through　yet　another　interminable　briefing　His　Excellency　Grand　Marshal
Tirnas　Kerchan；　Hero　of　the　Varentis　Campaign　and　Supreme　Commander　（All　Forces）　of　the　Most
Glorious　Armies　of　the　Emperor　in　Broucheroc；　considered　the　facts　he　had　learned　so　far　that　day
and　found　there　was　nothing　there　to　please　him。　For　the　best　part　of　two　hours　now；　from　his　place
at　the　head　of　the　long　table　inside　General　HQ’s　Central　Briefing　Room　One；　he　had　listened　as　a
succession　of　his　commanders　read　aloud　their　latest　situation　reports　to　the　assembled　General
Staff。　Through　it　all；　through　all　their　pasty…faced　dissemblings　and　pathetically　transparent　attempts
to　lay　the　blame　for　their　failures　on　others；　the　message　at　the　heart　of　each　man’s　report　was
exactly　the　same。
They　were　losing　the　war。
“Grand　Marshal？”　he　heard　his　adjutant；　Colonel　Vlin；　whisper　from　his　chair　by　the　side　of
him；　breaking　his　train　of　thought。
Disturbed　from　his　despairing　reverie；　the　Grand　Marshal　abruptly　realised　he　had　lost　track　of
the　briefings。　Looking　up　he　saw　the　eyes　of　every　man　at　the　table　were　turned　to　gaze　his　way；
nervously　awaiting　his　reaction　to　the　substance　of　the　last　report。　For　a　moment；　unable　to
remember　the　name　of　the　man　standing　before　him　who　had　presented　it；　he　found　himself　stymied。
“Yes；　good。　Very　good。”　Kerchan　harrumphed；　then　floundered。　“Most　cogent　and　concise。　An
excellent　analysis；　General…　ah…”
“Dushan；”　Vlin　said　sotto　voce；　raising　a　sheath　of　papers　in　front　of　his　mouth　to　hide　the　words
as　he　spoke　them。
“Yes；　General　Dushan；”　the　Grand　Marshal　said；　inclining　his　head　toward　the　officer　in
question　and　giving　him　a　curt　nod　by　way　of　encouragement。　“Your　grasp　of　the　situation　is　to　be
commended。”
Clearly　relieved；　his　face　all　but　beaming　at　the　praise；　the　ferret…faced　Dushan　puffed　out　his
chest　with　pride　and　bent　forward　in　a　low　bow　in　grateful　acknowledgement　before　taking　his　seat
once　more。
Look　at　him；　the　Grand　Marshal　thought　sourly。　The　man　is　an　idiot。　Still　he　is　hardly　unique　in
that　regard。　I　am　surrounded　by　idiots。　This　whole　damned　city　would　seem　to　be　staffed　from　first
to　last　with　idiots；　cowards　and　incompetents。
Briefly；　the　Grand　Marshal　idly　wondered　whether　it　might　not　be　better　to　make　an　example　of
Dushan。　To　denounce　him；　here　and　now；　and　order　him　taken　away　to　stand　court　martial　on
charges　of　incompetence。　That　might　put　the　fear　of　the　Emperor　into　the　rest　of　them　for　a　while；　he
thought。　Force　them　to　buck　their　ideas　up　for　fear　they’d　he　facing　more　of　the　same　themselves。　As
attractive　as　the　idea　was；　he　found　himself　forced　to　dismiss　it。　He　had　just　praised　the　man；　after
all。　To　go　back　on　that　praise　so　quickly　might　make　him　seem　indecisive。　No；　like　it　or　not；　for　the
rest　of　the　day　at　least　the　idiot　Dushan　was　beyond　arrest；　almost　as　inviolable　to　the　Grand
Marshal’s　powers　as　the　body　of　an　Imperial　saint。　It　was　a　matter　of　maintaining　the　proper　respect
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for　the　chain　of　command。　Once　the　Grand　Marshal　had　given　voice　to　an　opinion　on　a　man　there
could　be　no　turning　back。
And　besides；　thought　Kerchan；　I　was　the　one　who　gave　Dushan　his　position　in　the　first　place。　To
punish　him　for　his　inadequacies　now　might　be　perceived　as　an　admission　I　was　wrong　to　promote
him。　No　matter　what；　a　Grand　Marshal　can　never　admit　to　having　made　a　mistake。　He　must　be　seen
to　be　infallible。　To　give　credence　to　any　thought　otherwise　would　be　to　fatally　undermine　the　rightful
awe　every　Guardsman　naturally　feels　for　the　wisdom　of　their　superiors。　Well；　the　awe　that　most　of
them　feel　anyway。　It　is　the　nature　of　war　that；　occasionally　and　inevitably；　there　will　always　be
dissenters。
With　a　distant　stab　of　quiet　anger；　the　Grand　Marshal　found　himself　remembering　the　officer
whose　place　Dushan　had　taken　on　the　General　Staff。　What　was　the　man’s　name；　he　thought。　Minor？
Minaris？　Minovan？　He　was　about　to　turn　to　Colonel　Vlin　to　ask　him　the　name　of　Dushan’s
predecessor；　when　abruptly　it　came　to　him。　Mirovan！　That　was　the　man’s　name。　The　remembered
name　brought　with　it　a　clearer　picture　in　his　mind　of　the　individual　to　whom　it　belonged　and　Grand
Marshal　Kerchan　found　his　bleak　and　unhappy　mood　growing　even　darker。
Of　all　the　men　on　his　staff；　Mirovan　had　always　seemed　the　best　and　brightest。　An　exemplary
field　officer　with　an　admirable　record　of　citations　for　bravery　behind　him；　Mirovan　had　made
general　in　a　creditably　short　space　of　time。　If　the　man　had　any　flaw　at　all；　it　was　in　the　one　single
characteristic　Kerchan　could　never　abide　in　a　subordinate。
Insolence。
Mirovan　had　been　so　insolent　in　fact　that　two　weeks　ago　he　had　even　had　the　temerity　to
question　one　of　the　Grand　Marshal’s　military　decisions　during　a　staff　meeting。　Enraged；　Kerchan
had　demoted　the　man　on　the　spot；　busting　him　down　to　the　rank　of　common　trooper　and　or