were open to the sky。
The Thunderbolts of Umbra Flight waited； lined up in three ranks facing the south。 Fitter teams
were disengaging the last of the cables and fuelling lines； and whirring elevator platforms carried the
empty munitions trolleys down to lower levels。
Cordiale and Del Ruth were already with their planes。 Blansher ran out across the gratings of the
deck； reading a wafer of printout paper。
“Air cover； evac protection！” he shouted。 “Immediate launch； track six…nine…two； no higher than
two thousand。”
There was a chorus of acknowledgements and the pilots dropped into their cockpits。 The chief
fitter of each plane crew made sure his pilot was secure； closed the canopy then signalled to the
primer technician to start as he jumped off the wing。 Each primer cart fired and the Thunderbolt
engines began to turn over。 Within moments； the engine noise in the enclosed space was so loud that
it drowned out the screeching hooters。
Deck crews with goggles and ear protectors took up position in front of the formation； directing
with lumin paddles。 Signal to go。
In the front rank were Blansher and Ranfre。 Behind them； Marquall； Cordiale and Del Ruth。 The
third rank was Van Tull and Zemmic。 The flight rose up in a swaying hover almost simultaneously。
The deck chief swung both his lumin paddles together and pointed； then dropped down onto one
knee； head down in a braced position as the front rank rushed out over him； swiftly followed by the
second and the third。
They came out into the open； exiting the hangar through a rectangular slot in the sheer cliff face。
The sea was two hundred metres below them。 The seven machines immediately started to turn and
come onto their track。
The sky was greenish…blue with two…tenths of long； wispy cloud。 The sea was a richer； more
intense green。 Lucerna Island dropped away behind them； a plateau of craggy pink granite jutting
out of the water。 Marquall could see the AA defences nested in the cliffs and on the headlands。 Two
more flights of Thunderbolts were coming up after Umbra from other hangar mouths。 Far below； he
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could see the masses of shipping and barges that had been arriving at the island’s jetties for the last
twelve hours。
They climbed higher； steady。 Marquall adjusted his nitrous mix carefully。 He watched the
formation around him； and kept his eyes on the auspex returns of the other Thunderbolt wings that
were running below and behind them。 From this altitude； he could see out across the range of the
Midwinter Islands； an archipelago of pink atolls that filled nearly seven hundred thousand square
kilometres of ocean at the eastern end of the Zophonian Sea。 It was to the larger of these islands；
places like Lucerna which had airbases and ports； that the majority of the planes； transports and
extraction barges from Theda had fled。
The islet…speckled sea below him was full of shipping； powering east towards safe ports in the
island chain。 The auspex was also alive with air contacts。 A few Imperial machines were still
heading in from the mainland retreat； but the rest of the activity was Navy wings； coming back out
of their new island bases to guard sea convoys or hunt for Archenemy intruders。 Marquall could see
the patterns of a large dogfight going on； twelve kilometres south of them； and another； more
condensed； nineteen kilometres to the south…west。 To the east； there was a progressive intercept on a
bomber formation； and another large air…brawl； down at low level amongst the islands。
Visually； the southern horizon line was a smudged belt of black； at odds with the clarity of the
clean sky and the sparkling sea。 That was the smoke line； the vapour of death and destruction that
crowned the Thedan coast for hundreds of kilometres。 The filthy mark of the Archenemy； branded
across his newly…taken territory。
Blansher called them to focus。 They were closing on the designated target。 A convoy of thirtyseven
mass…barges and VTRPs out of St Chryze was moving up one of the archipelago’s clear…water
channels； under attack from enemy raiders。
“Brief said sixty…plus bats；” Blansher voxed。
“I have visual on the convoy；” reported Ranfre。
“Copy that。”
Down through the clouds； the mighty vessels were now in plain view。 Some were staining the air
with trails of exhaust smoke from their turbines； but others were pouring out cones of black and
white smoke。
“Auspex contacts；” Del Ruth reported。 “Two groups of hostiles。 One high at six thousand；
circling； the other low； crossing the convoy。”
Marquall checked his own auspex screen and got a similar report。 Multiple contacts were milling
around the surface vessels like flies around a wound。 He could even see them now； lime flitting dots
against the sea； catching the sunlight。
“Umbra Leader to other flights。 The contacts showing high could be a second wave of attack
planes waiting their turn to come in； or they could be top cover。 Suggest Umbra and Sabre go in
after the raiders； Cobalt stays high to watch for fighters。”
The split made sense。 Sabre Flight； part of the 333rd Navy wing； was short four machines； and
so under…strength like Umbra。 Cobalt； also part of the 333rd； was twelve strong。
“Umbra； this is Cobalt Lead。 Acknowledged。”
“Umbra Leader； Sabre will comply。”
“Stoop and sting；” Blansher ordered。
The two flights committed down； rolling off from the front of the formation to the rear in a
formal cascade。 Marquall tried to keep his breathing even as the power dive began。 He switched on
the targeters and lit his gunsight。 Guns on； las selected。
The glittering water was coming up fast。
He saw the great black hulks of the convoy vessels； trailing wakes of white water； and the tall；
thin spurts of foam around them where detonations were hitting the sea。 And there were the bats；
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streaking in on horizontal approaches against the sides of the ships； attacking with rockets and
cannon。
They were Hell Talons； painted in various red； black and coral…pink shades。
The Thunderbolts tore into the mob of them。 For a second； there were aircraft and gunfire tracks
going in all directions around Marquall。 He pulled the stick back slightly and brought Nine…Nine up
level。 A Talon swept by； heading across onto one of the barges； and Marquall banked around after it。
It started to fire； churning up a track of impacts across the water towards the barge’s hull； and
Marquall opened fire too。 He missed； but the Talon broke off to starboard； trying to get out of his
cone of fire。
Marquall didn’t manage to turn as tightly and overshot the barge； passing briefly through the
clouds of smoke it was emitting。 He turned the plane’s nose and saw the Talon climbing furiously；
so did likewise。
Two Thunderbolts； wearing the combat blue of the 333rd； shot past him； both chasing Talons。
Then a red Talon swept in and Marquall had to roll out stiffly to avoid it。 A wash of bright tracers；
snaking and rippling like a wind…blown streamer； crossed past his right wing tip。 Marquall rolled
again and saw a black Talon zip under him。 He inverted； falling after it； and dropping low to bob
back up on its tail。 The Talon tried to turn but he stuck with it； watching its ducts for the tell…tale
swivel that announced a sideslip viff。 The Talon rolled left； then right； but it couldn’t shake him。 He
got a lock…tone but before he could fire； two machines went past in the opposite direction； so fast he
had no time to identify them； so hard their jet wash rocked him out of line。
More throttle。 The Talon was extending slightly。 It tried a little viff but Marquall held on right。
Lock…tone for the second time。 He fired。
He hit it。 Buckled pieces of plating flew off。 But it wasn’t a clean kill。 The Talon rose； finding
speed in desperation。
“No you don’t…” said Marquall。
Suddenly； the air lit up around him。 A rain of las…fire。
“Umbra Flight！ Break！ The bastards are above us！”
It was Blansher’s voice。 Marquall broke high； somehow coming out of the blizzard of shots
unscathed。
“Umbra Flight； Umbra Flight！ Bats at eleven。 Climb like hell！”
Marquall looked about desperately and saw twenty or more Hell Razors diving in through the
dogfight。 Either Cobalt Flight had screwed up completely and let them through； or these were
newcomers to the brawl。
Marquall came up fast； gripped by the heavy G。 He couldn’t even see the black Talon any more
and cursed his own luck。 He’d come so close。
He saw Zemmic diving past； nose cone lit up in a blaze of gunfire。 The Talon he was after
started to spin and then lost something—probably coolant—in a gush of fluid。 It fell into the sea like
a stone。
Marquall looped and saw two green Razors turning out wide over another of the barges。 He
knew if he pulled away they’d be after his tail； so he went straight in for a frontal attack。 Coming
head to head； the closing speed was alarming。 Marquall fired and saw shots burning back his way。
The Razors shook past。 He had no idea if he’d hit anything。
To the west of him there was a blue Thunderbolt； one engine on fire descending slowly on a
long； lazy curve。 A brief puff of white erupted as it hit the water。
A glance right。 Del Ruth and Ranfre； locked in a barrelling acrobatic tumble with three Razors。
The machines kept trying to turn in under each other； jockeying to get on the six。 Ranfre was firing
and his chosen target viffed out of the tangle so frantically it rammed its wingman。 The colliding
machines exploded in the air。 Del Ruth and Ranfre broke and blasted on past。 The remaining bat
screamed out the other way。
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Marquall was on it immediately。 He came round on its seven； let off a burst； then a second。 The
bat plunged。 For a moment； Marquall thought he’d stung it； but it was simply viffing out hard to
switch onto his tail。 Nine…Nine shuddered and bucked as it was hit。 Marquall pulled a violent
evasive turn。 The bat shot past and away。
“Umbra Eight。 Are you okay？”
Marquall checked the instruments。 No critical warning lights had come on。 “This is Eight。 I’m
okay。”
“Eight； this is Lead。 You’re trailing fluid。 I think it’s hydraulics。 Break off and head for home；
do you copy？”
Marquall’s heart sank。 “Copy that； Lead。 I am breaking off。”
By the time he began his approach to Lucerna； Marquall could feel the damage by the way
Double Eagle was handling。 He lined up on the transponder signal； and made a good landing in
hangar three via the north entry。
Racklae got him out。 The chief fitter’s head was bandaged。 The transport that had got him out of
Theda had been attacked； and he’d been sliced by shrapnel。
They inspected the damage to Nine…Nine。
“Superficial mostly；” said Racklae； “but you’ve taken a hit to the hydraulics。”
“It didn’t show on the instruments。”
“Sometimes it doesn’t； sir。 But I’ll check your critical indicator too。 Any luck； by the way？”
“No；” said Marquall。 He didn’t have the heart to admit he’d come so close on two only to lose
both。 “Still shaking off the jinx。”
Lucerna Processing； 16。30
“Put simply；” said the Munitorum senior。 “You’re dead。”
“Well； I hate to fly in the face of facts…” Viltry began。
“Don’t worry；” said the senior。 “I’ll just run it again。 Could you check the details as I have
them？”
Viltry l