Shard wrenched the flight stick back, Hephaestus screaming in protest as she dragged its nose up. Any moment I expected us to snap in two, torn apart by our own momentum, but we endured, the view shifting from that terrible edifice to the inviting sky.

Mizar was clawing at me, demanding my attention. I relented, syncing with it just in time to witness the Marauder dumping every one of its high-explosive bombs into the edifice’s awaiting jaws.

We had moments before detonation.

Shard was well ahead of me, accelerating across the canopy of gnarl-vines. She did not attempt to ascend, despite the comparative safety it might offer, focusing solely on putting as much distance between Hephaestus and the impending explosion.

I wanted to close my eyes, but Mizar would not let me. Through our rear gunner’s sensors, I saw the ork base disappear as we fled the bubble of the techno-sorcery that had shrouded it from view.

Seconds and a lifetime passed as we awaited the detonation.

At first it was a flicker, the full spectacle concealed by the ork technology. Then half the swamp was simply gone, torn apart in a searing storm of green lightning and high explosives. The energies arced across the waters, leaving torn sections of the platform in its wake. Some materi­alised high above the swamp, before shattering into shards and falling like rain. Clumps of vines appeared beside them, along with gallons of swamp water compressed into churning bubbles that burst like blisters. Two of the bubbles were inexplicably frozen into blocks of ice, and a third boiled into vapour, the cloud stripping the outer hull from a pursuing ork jet.

For they were still on us. The explosion had decimated the horde along with their effigy, but many fighters were already airborne when the blast struck, and some had escaped its aftermath. They were gaining on us, and even at top speed the Marauder had no hope of outrunning them.

‘Clear our six!’ Shard roared, though her words were swallowed by an explosion that almost took our wing. But Hephaestus was tough, its fuselage enduring the onslaught. We were ascending now, the climb ponderous and our pursuers unyielding. I kept waiting for the Thunderbolt escorts to intercept, only to finally realise none were left.

We were alone.

I shifted my view to the rear gunner, his weapons discharging a barrage of bolt-rounds into the swirling mess of ork fighters. It was an impossible task, at least to my eyes – like trying to kill flies by flinging toothpicks.

I heard Shard’s voice through the vox.

‘Leric! Kill them or drive them off, but get rid of them. Hephaestus can’t take much more.’

‘The Emperor protects,’ was the only reply, the voice seeming so close that it was almost as though I spoke the words.