"Our current casualty figures put our losses at over three hundred regiments, more than six thousand Astartes, and one hundred and twenty-four Tech-Priests."
"We also lost twenty-two capital ships. The accompanying escort losses have yet to be fully tallied."
"As for the Orks, we have no way to count their losses. The Necrons lost three Crypteks, and they will need living metal replenishments from the Tomb Worlds that follow."
After delivering the preliminary figures, the adjutant stepped back and looked at Bona.
"Mm, good. Send a copy of this battle report to the rear. Have Archmagos Antonia and Prime Minister Elson coordinate replacements from the nearest sectors."
"Have Arlith tighten oversight. We cannot afford any trouble at a time like this."
The adjutant exchanged a glance with the Inquisitor beside him. Then Inquisitor Trickjacket said hesitantly:
"My lord, Inquisitor Arlith returned to the Golden Throne twenty years ago."
"Lord Inquisitor Gis now holds her former position in the Inquisition."
Bona frowned slightly, then gently pinched the bridge of his nose with his right hand.
"I forgot..."
"Never mind. Send it to the Inquisition. They should be able to handle it too."
"Yes, my lord."
The adjutant and the Inquisitor saluted and left, and the spacious room fell silent once more.
Before long, however, several more people entered the room.
Bona could not see, but their footsteps alone told him who they were.
They were Admiral Spire, commander-in-chief of the Dawn Army's fleet; Marshal Jean Kesen, commander-in-chief of its ground forces; and Perturabo, Horus, and Fulgrim.
"Perturabo, from now on, navigational command will go to Admiral Spire. He has more experience."
"If we suffer losses like these a few more times, we will have no choice but to withdraw from the Eye of Terror."
Perturabo's already grim expression began to smooth