Cormac sat upright and looked around. Thorn was already at the door of the carrier, his weapon resting on his shoulder. The sergeant and one of the two men were putting on their boots. Lying with his cuffed wrists secured to a steadying handle above one of the bunks, Stanton watched with disinterest. Cormac slid from his bed fully dressed. It was not the first time he had slept in body-armour.

‘How far?’ he asked.

‘Ten minutes away.’

Cormac turned to Stanton. ‘Pelter?’

Stanton shrugged. ‘Could be, but I doubt it. He’ll want you to sweat for a while.’

Cormac snorted and turned away. ‘Who’s on the turret gun? . . . Never mind. Sergeant, no firing unless fired on. Thorn, Aiden, with me.’

The sergeant began speaking into his comunit as the three headed for the door. Above, they heard the drone of hydraulics as the turret gun swung round. Outside, Cormac saw that the men were dispersed around the camp with their weapons trained on the sky. Once again an AGC came in with its lights on and landed in the middle of the camp. Cormac immediately recognized the diminutive figure that stepped out, and advanced from cover with a smile on his face. Taking their cue from him, the other men did the same.

‘All this fuss over me,’ said Mika as she lifted a case from the AGC. ‘I could get to like it.’

It was the first time Cormac had heard her be coquettish. It seemed very unlike her. He had imagined her as being more direct.

‘It’s good to see you, but why are you here?’ asked Cormac.

‘They’re refitting the Hubris. It’s like a madhouse there. I asked Blegg if I could come to follow up on some studies.’ She looked pointedly at the dracomen as they came from the trees to squat by the carrier.

‘He’s still there then—Blegg?’

‘Yes, and managing to annoy everyone with the minimum effort.’

They walked towards the carrier.

Mika went on. ‘I also thought you might need a medic, if you haven’t got one . . .’

‘A couple of the men are trained, Thorn as well. There was an attack last night, but most injuries have been tended to.’

‘Attack. Presumably not the Maker?’

‘A Separatist group.’

Mika nodded. ‘I see one injury that hasn’t been tended to,’ she said. She gestured to the dracoman now called Scar.

Cormac could not think of a reply. Just then one of the regulars came running across.

‘Sir! Sir! Something took one of the bodies in the night.’

Mika looked at Cormac, and Cormac looked at Mika. They both looked at the dracomen.

‘Probably an animal. We should have buried them,’ Cormac told the man.

‘Shall we bury them, sir?’

‘If you like.’

The regular departed.