bomber formation。 Kaminsky decided he wasn’t having that。
He banked over and went to meet the fighters head on。
“Umbra Five； where the hell are you going？” Blansher yelled over the channel。
Kaminsky didn’t say anything except； “Fire。 Fire。 Fire。 Fire。”
Blansher followed him down through the fire…sneaked air。 He saw a Razor vibrating as it fell
away； bleeding smoke。 He saw a Locust blow out as it climbed。 Kaminsky was ploughing into them
with deliberate； single…minded fury。
Blansher pulled in beside Kaminsky’s port； took a shot at a rising Locust； then banked out as he
saw a crimson Razor turning close。 The Razor was looping to line up on Kaminsky。 Blansher took
him with the last three bursts of his las。
Switching to quad； he barrelled down。 Kaminsky had lined up on a Locust and was peppering it
with las…fire。 Cordiale and Del Ruth rushed past； gunning at three Locusts that had turned away in a
harsh dive。
He saw a Razor going across him； viffed his Bolt to get deflection； and ripped the hostile down
its length with quad rounds。
Kaminsky came up out of his long stoop； and locked a Locust。 “Fire。”
Nothing。 His las batteries were exhausted。 “Switch。 Fire。 Fire。”
The quads burst off at empty sky。 Kaminsky soared around； and found a bomber right ahead of
him。 “Fire。 Fire。 Fire。”
The bomber tilted and began to come around。 Several engines out； it was turning back for home
“Fire。 Fire；” Kaminsky said。
The stricken bomber went down； suddenly encased in a shroud of its own burning fuel。
Bats blazed up past Kaminsky。 He rolled over to greet them。
Two Thunderbolt wings and a formation of Lightnings had now converged on their air…brawl。
Jagdea had taken a hit to her rudder and Zero…One wasn’t steering very well； but she tanked out of
the fusillade three Locusts were laying on her； bent right and hammered another Tormentor to
fragments。
Her fuel load was getting low。 The rest of Umbra would be the same； unless they hadn’t been
doing their jobs right。
“Umbra Flight； prepare to turn for home。 Refuel run。 Rearm。 Come back。”
Del Ruth； Cordiale and Zemmic quickly acknowledged。 Then Darrow； Scalter and Van Tull。
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Viltry’s affirmative came in a moment later。
“Umbra Two？” she called。
“Heard you； coming out；” Blansher replied。
“Umbra Five？ Kaminsky？”
“Understood； Leader。 Fuel is low。 Breaking off。”
“Umbra Twelve？ Umbra Twelve？ Ranfre？ Copy me！”
She looked around； scanning the packed sky for some sign of Ranfre。
Far below； unseen by Jagdea； a Thunderbolt descended。
Ranfre’s bird had sailed through the shot…storm of the bomber pack。 Every bolt round blasted out
by the turrets had missed it； except the one that had shattered its canopy and burst Ranfre’s skull。
His Thunderbolt； uncontrolled； slowly dropped away and hit the sea。
Lucerna AB； 08。13
The flight came in through the south entry of the hangar。 Del Ruth’s machine was making smoke
and Jagdea’s rudder was flapping like a weather vane。
“Refit； rearm and refuel！” Jagdea yelled to the fitter crews。
Power loaders and tank trucks were already spurring forward the vapour…swathed machines。
“Where’s Marquall？” Jagdea yelled to Racklae over the noise。
“He was here； ma’am！ We fixed him up！ He’s gone up again！”
Promethium jetted out of a hose poorly fitted to Cordiale’s machine。 Racklae ran towards the
problem； cursing his crew。
Jagdea looked up out of the hangar mouth at the sky。
Marquall was alone out there。
Over the Midwinters； 08。45
The sky was lit up by the fight。 Marquall took a deep breath。 It was amazing。 He’d never seen so
many air machines in combat before。
He put Nine…Nine into a dive and came in on a pack of Locusts； thirty strong。 He didn’t care。
Effortlessly； he rolled into them and fired the moment he had a tone lock。
One of the small Archenemy fighters bucked； then flew apart in a dazzle of heat。
“Three！” Marquall whooped to himself。 “Three！ Frigging three！”
The Locust pack broke and looped。 Suddenly； they were all over him。
He took three holes in the port wing； two in the starboard and four through the tail。
Gasping； Marquall turned out high； trying to evade。 The Locusts swarmed after him。
He saw a flash。 A passing glint。
Eight Thunderbolts； painted cream； sneaked down past him into the Locust swarm。 The
Apostles。
Throne of Earth； the Apostles！ “Larice？” he whispered。
Holy Terra； those Apostles were punishing the Locusts hard。 Perfect riming； perfect formation。
They blitzed into the pack and killed most of them in one pass。
So fast。 Marquall felt almost stationary； even though the speed gauge said he was topping eight
hundred。
“Larice？ Larice Asche？” he called。
“Who’s that？” snapped a hard voice。
“Umbra Eight；” he said。
“Marquall？ Emperor’s teeth！ This is no time for reunions。 Get your arse out of here！”
“Copy that； Larice。 I’m going。”
“Get the hell gone。 And don’t call me that。 I am Apostle Five。”
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Over the Midwinters； 09。18
Blansher led up the first four Bolts that were ready： Van Tull； Cordiale； Scalter and Zemmic。 The
others would follow under Jagdea the moment her rudder was fixed。
Blansher turned them south…west； in the direction of Theda。 Another wing of eight Thunderbolts
that had just turned round at Lucerna launched and fell into step with them。
Ahead； it seemed like a great storm had slid down across the horizon。 There was a wide； brown
cliff of smoke along the sea； extending as far as Blansher could see； filled with sparks and flashes
like lightning。
As they closed； the cliff began to resolve。 What he’d been seeing was the glare distortion of
thousands of exhaust plumes and engine fires； ribboned into a lattice across the sky； so dense that
from a distance it seemed solid。
They passed several Imperial machines limping for home。 Blansher kept calling for Marquall。
The vox was still burbling with hundreds of intersecting transmissions。 According to Operations； the
massive clash they were prosecuting here was matched by a vast battle over the Sea of Ezra； and
another near the east coast approaching Ingeburg。 Other reports said that bomber streams had got
past the Midwinter line； and were beginning to hit Zophos and even the northern shore。 Every
available Imperial machine was now aloft on at least its second sortie of the day。
Contacts were closing。 A large pack of Hell Talons cruising north。
“Umbra Flight；” he ordered。 “Engage！”
Over the Midwinters； 09。50
It had taken an age for the fitters to fix Jagdea’s rudder。 Even now； Hemmen had warned； it wasn’t a
solid repair。 She ascended at maximum speed； tailed by Del Ruth； Kaminsky； Viltry and Darrow。 It
was no longer a matter of getting track instruction from Operations。 The sky above the archipelago
was loaded with machines everywhere she looked。
They picked up a quartet of Marauders； all damaged； that were being harried by a formation of
nine blue Locusts。 The bats seemed to move as one； skilled and disciplined； as if they were
somehow controlled by one fierce mind。
Jagdea rolled the wing into them。
One of the Marauders was finally overwhelmed； and went down towards the atolls。 It was hard
to keep a focus on the brawl at hand。 Parts of other dogfight clashes kept impinging； as the edges of
one skirmish overlapped another。 Umbra was rolling with the blue Locusts when seven Lightnings
blundered into their fight…zone； tumbling around three pairs of Razors。 Jagdea found herself having
to deal with one of the Razor pairs which switched from the Lightnings they’d been chasing onto
her。 Any semblance of strategic formation in Umbra vanished。
Darrow turned tightly over one of the ailing Marauders and locked onto a yellow Hell Razor that
seemed to be either confused or suffering from vector damage。 He led his shot； expecting it to break
left； but it didn’t； or it couldn’t。 As a result； Darrow’s first burst missed。 He banked to the right；
floating the machine into his reticule and fired again； killing it instantly。
Kaminsky and Viltry had been forced to the eastern part of the skirmish； separated from the
others by the Razors going through their midst。 They found themselves mugged by all nine of the
blue Locusts。 Both of them began turning and firing； and the blue bats danced away like a shoal of
fish； triggered by a single impulse。 They switched； and came around again； almost in line。 Kaminsky
broke hard； and Viltry executed a savage vector…assisted turn； representing so the Locusts were
almost head on to him。
He got a good but momentary lock on the lead plane and fired his quads； leaving his thumb on
the stud so that the salvo would rake。 The first Locust blew out and because they were running tight；
in line； Viltry’s target lock carried his bombardment onto the second one； which also disintegrated。
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Then Viltry had to bank abruptly to avoid the others。 Something blinked past over his canopy
and he saw Kaminsky coming in on a barrel roll into the thick of them； forcing the Locusts to lose
cohesion for the first time。
Kaminsky hit one； then damaged a second； and hunted a third round； at its six。 The blue bat was
so eager to avoid the Thunderbolt on its tail that it ran blindly across Viltry’s field of fire and he
stung it with his lascannons。
Kaminsky and Viltry scissored past each other。 Their pack cut in half； the Locusts pulled out。
Over the Midwinters； 10。10
Blansher’s element flew out of their tangle and enjoyed a brief respite of quiet air before a vast swirl
of fighting planes engulfed them from above。 They were forced low； then lower still。 Burning
engine parts； wing fragments and pieces of elevator rained past them from craft destroyed in the
upper levels of the brawl。 One large fragment bounced off Scalter’s nose； destroying his las battery
and stripping the cover plating off his starboard turbofan。 He cried out in alarm and fought with the
controls to steady the plane。 Peering forward； he could see energy from the split las…cables crackling
and sparking on the dented nose。 He deactivated the power magazine and switched to quad。
“Umbra Seven！ Pay attention！” Blansher yelled。
Scalter had been so intent on his damage that he’d been flying straight for too long。 A mauve
Hell Talon came sweeping down out of the frothing smoke wash above and started to fire。
Scalter sat down in his armour plating； flinching as the shots went by。 He seemed to have frozen。
Blansher was too committed to a pair of Razors to help him。
Cordiale came out of the north； firing heavily。 The Talon took a hit or two in its rear armour and
forgot all about Scalter。 It dropped low； towards the sea； running to escape。 Cordiale stormed after
it。
They went across the water at less than ten metres； kicking up wash and spray with their
thrusters。 The Talon slipped back and forth； around atolls and cliffs； determined not to climb and
thus make itself a target。 Cordiale stuck to it； banking as it banked； slicing around islets and surface
rocks。 They came around a tall； sheer cliff in a hard turn； the noise of their engines reflecting oddly
off the cliff face； and immediately had to leap…frog two mass…barges lying at anchor in the cove。
Cordiale missed the vox masts of the big tubs by centimetres。 The Talon rushed low across the
basin； chased by H