for them all to go home。
“We could join them；” Del Ruth suggested； tipping her head in the direction of the fitters。
“And spoil their fun？” Blansher said。 “Pilots need fitters and fitters need pilots； and there is a
bond close to love between them。 But socially？ No。 Different worlds。 Different classes。 We go over
there； try to join in； we’ll be as welcome as a turd in a foot bath。”
Agguila Del Ruth had been halfway through a sip； and snorted with laughter； choking so hard
Marquall had to slap her on the back。
It was the best laugh they’d had all night。
“Throne save me；” Blansher sighed。 “This is so not what I’d planned。”
“Story of my life；” muttered Marquall； pouring out another measure of joiliq for each of them。
“What’s this now？” said Del Ruth。 “Self…directed misery too？”
Marquall shrugged。 “Do you know； I was top of my class at Hessenville。”
“Weren’t we all？” said Del Ruth； raising her eyebrows at Blansher。
“No； not me；” said Blansher sadly； reaching for his drink。 “I was… bottom。 Pilot…cadet voted
most likely to wash out。 I failed every exercise。 Not just failed； mind。 Failed dismally。 One day； my
instructor took me to one side； led me out to an obs deck overlooking the Scald。 He pointed to it。 He
said； “Milan； this is your birth…world。 Plenty of sky； not very much land。 If you can’t fly； boy； what
the frig else do you think you’re going to do？ Swim for the Emperor？”
Del Ruth snorted her drink again and started coughing。
“Damn you！” she gagged； wiping her mouth on a napkin。 “That’s twice。”
Blansher smiled。
137
“I was top of my class；” Marquall said。 “Accelerated program； right at the end of the liberation
war。 I mean； I was good。 I longed to fly combat。 Kill bats。 But now I’m in it； in the combat zone… I
screw up。 I can’t hit a thing。 My birds break down on me。 I get people hurt。”
“That’s one way of looking at it；” Blansher said。
“There’s another way？”
“Well； for a start there’s the matter of two fine kills。 Besides that； you’ve saved my life in the
air； and I can’t speak for others。 You survived an eject from a slain machine… not many do that。
And there’s that heroic use of rocket drive to break out of a kill…shot。 That last thing alone； Vander；
that’s one for the archives。 I don’t know of anyone who’s even tried that； let alone come back to talk
about it。 Seekan should have come to you； not Larice。”
Marquall managed a smile。 “Thanks；” he said。
“I mean it。”
“You’re a very good exec； sir。 Just what Jagdea expects。 You say the right things and boost
morale。”
“Maybe；” said Blansher。 “Personally； I think there’s an up side to everything。 You just have to
see it。 Say to yourself； is the glass half full or half empty？”
“They’re shot glasses；” said Del Ruth flatly； staring at her own。 “They’re either full or empty。
Anything else； and someone isn’t trying。”
“I’ll drink to that；” said Blansher； and reached for the bottle。
The three of them left the Hydra at twenty past six in the morning； dim light filling the sky。 The
fitters were still carousing。 Blansher led them to the nearest Munitorum depot； booked out three
transports and drivers from the pool； and then returned to the Hydra to collect the reluctant ground
crew。
They drove out along the highway。 It seemed otherwise deserted。 The strip of road was littered
with trash and discarded possessions。 Some broken down vehicles sat on the hard shoulder。
Marquall was riding in the back of one of the trucks with Racklae and a group of the ground crew。
“You hear that？” he said suddenly。
Racklae turned and cocked his head； trying to hear above the noise of the truck engine。 “Fan
drives。 Lots of them。”
“Another raid？” asked one of the men。 “Doesn’t sound like bombers；” said Racklae。
“Heavier…”
“Oh shit… look！” Marquall cried； pointing to the southern sky。
Massive； multi…vectored drop…ships were sliding in across skies above the eastern suburbs。
Thousands of dots were showering out of them； like windblown pollen。
Storm troopers； on jump packs。
From the depths of the war…torn city behind them； sirens began to rise into a howl。 The mass
invasion had begun。
Theda MAB South； 06。39
The flashes of the detonations were coming so fast the early daylight appeared to be strobing。 There
was a gritty； sizzling noise from the continuous bombardment。 How could the sky hold up so many
aircraft？
Darrow ran towards the Operations centre。 Bombs were falling on the inner city； and several
Tormentors had swung over the field wide； loads gone； turning out over the sea。 The airfield’s
defence batteries were hurling everything they had at the sky。 Tracers spiked up and danced； flak
turned the air into a broiling mass of flame…lit smoke。
Fighters were already lifting off the field； either to fight or flee。 Darrow heard mounting engineroar
from several Oneros and other mass lifters。 Figures mobbed across the landscape。
“Extraction？” Darrow yelled at a Navy officer。
138
“Everything； now！” the man yelled back； still running。 “We’re pulling out now！”
Darrow looked to his left in time to see the Apostles lift off。 They’d been prepped for a first light
call； and now they launched； climbing north…east in the turmoil of the air。 Their cream paintjobs
made them look like blades of ice in the fire…lit sky。
A sonic boom split the air like the muzzle bang of an artillery piece。 A Hell Talon streaked long
and low over the field； and left a crop of furious blasts in its wake。 Two Marauders were blown up
on their hardstands。 Darrow was one of the many who threw themselves flat as the Talon thundered
over。
The wind was full of smoke and scraps of airborne ash。 The furious metallic hammering of a
nearby Hydra almost drowned out the background roar of explosions and jet engines。
Darrow got up and started running again。 Another aircraft went over； and he saw running
personnel not twenty metres away from him thrown into the air by cannon fire。 Then there was a
tremendous； vibrating roar and a prickling wash of heat as a laden Onero took off and crawled past
overhead。
There was blood in Darrow’s left eye。 He’d caught a scratch in the left eyebrow； shrapnel
probably； and blood was running down into his vision。 He kept running。 Another big transport took
off； kicking up dust and grit。
Darrow saw bodies on the ground。 Two Navy airmen and three ground crew。 The force of the
strafing fire that had claimed them had punctured the ground in a long； broken gouge； snipped most
of their garments clean off； and left them lying in impossible； dislocated poses。
Darrow glanced away。 It was a hard thing to look at。
People still ran past in all directions。 Some were wounded and being helped by others。 Two
pilots staggered past carrying a fitter upright between them。 The fitter was making an odd； sobbing
noise。 His face was—
Again； Darrow turned his eyes aside。 Over on the hard…stands； the latest enemy strafing run hit a
bowser； and a huge sheet of yellow flame splashed up into the air。
On the northern…most pads； squadrons of Valkyrie carriers were warming up； their stem hatches
open。 Personnel streamed towards them from the base buildings。
More planes launched； mainly Thunderbolts。 One of them was hit by a seeker…rocket as it tried
to lift； caught fire violently； and belly flopped down into a loading bay； killing at least twenty
ground crew。 Darrow winced at the heat of the blasts。
Then he saw Eads。 Feeling with his cane； Eads was approaching the entrance of the Operations
building。 Navy crew ran past him。 A low…flying Locust chewed a line of shots up into the side of
Operations ripping out brick dust and pieces of tile and shutter。 Protecting his face； Darrow ran
towards Eads。 “Sir！”
“Is that you； Darrow？”
“Yes； sir。 Come on。 I’ll get you onto an evacuation flight。”
“I should go to Operations。 This attack needs proper—”
“There’s no point； sir！” Darrow yelled above the concussive noise of the bombing。 “It’s all
gone！ Everything’s gone！ The enemy is here； right at the gates！ We’re pulling out now！”
A clutch of submunitions detonated forty metres away； killing a dozen people。 The pressure of
the blast…wave knocked Eads and Darrow flat。 Scrambling up； Darrow fought to get Eads on his
feet。
“Someone help me！” he cried at the figures running past。 Most just ignored them。 One went by；
then stopped and ran back。
It was Scalter。
He helped Darrow lift Eads and they started moving。 Scalter yelled something about the Blood
Pact over the din。
“What？” said Darrow。
139
“They’re saying Blood Pact are dropping into the suburbs。 Ground forces； certainly。”
“God…Emperor protect us all；” Eads said。
“Pardon me； sir；” said Scalter。 “But right now it feels like he’s forgotten all about us。”
Western District Theda； 06。40
The sirens woke Jagdea。 Her room in the hab clinic was cold and damp。 The window was rattling。
She lay still for a moment； listening。 Apart from the blare of the sirens outside； there was a
murmur of disquiet in the old building。 Her window rattled again。 No； it was more than a rattle。 The
glass in the old wooden frame was vibrating。
She got out of bed； and went to look。
Pulsing air pressure was making the glass shake。 Jagdea could see the blistering flashes of
pattern bombing detonations underlighting the sky behind the immediate cityscape。 Hundreds of
smoke plumes were curling up into the murky dawn sky。
In the clinic’s courtyard below； staff members and patients were fleeing in droves。
Jagdea hurried across the room； got down on her knees beside her bed； and started to pull her
clothes and effects out of the bedside locker。 She found her boots； her flight coat—
At that moment； a high yield bomb landed on a building across the street； levelling it instantly。
The entire clinic recoiled as if its foundations were set on bedsprings。 The window of Jagdea’s room
blew in with the Shockwave； ripping a blizzard of glass across the room。
Jagdea cried out involuntarily； hammered by the concussion； but her bed had shielded her from
the shredding force of the glass。 She crouched on the floorboards for a moment； tense with shock。
She could smell smoke； fyceline and heat scorching。 She could hear the crash of rubble； the flames
and the screaming coming from outside。
Cursing her sling and the pain in her arm； Jagdea pulled on the trousers of her flightsuit； and
then her boots。 She had a vest top on； so she put the coat on over that； good arm through the sleeve；
slung arm under the coat。
Then she went out into the hallway。 Smoke was pouring into the clinic through the smashed
windows on the courtyard side。 She headed the other way。 In the hall； she passed several patients
and medicae staff lacerated by window glass。 Most were alive； calling out； helpless。
There was nothing she could do。 The able…bodied staffers that she saw were simply running for
the exits。
Jagdea found the stairs； then made her way out through the half of the building away from the
blasted courtyard。 Outside； she found herself in a back street。 A few people hurried past her。
Looking up； she could see strings of enemy bombers creeping overhead。
She ran down the side street and halted at the corner where it joined a main road。 Se