Perhaps faith was the answer, for our closest pursuer was abruptly torn from the sky, the explosion swallowing the attackers. For an instant I thought it had claimed them, until five more aircraft burst through the smoke. None were alike, each a chimera cast from scrap and malice, but they shared a sole purpose. I could almost hear the ork battle cry.

It was hopeless. But still we climbed, and the first of our pursuers fell away, smoke even thicker than usual pouring from its engine.

If we rose high enough they could not follow. But only if Hephaestus maintained structural integrity. I could hear a whistling, no doubt air seeping from a fracture in the fuselage.

‘Seal your pressure suit!’ Shard screamed, her head flicking round for an instant. ‘We are void bound!’

Panicked, I fumbled with my suit’s seals, unsure if I had loosened them during the flight. Mizar still tugged at my consciousness, anxious to share the carnage unfolding to our rear. Only two planes remained, and the nearest was struggling. Though the pilot was equipped with some primitive rebreather, the engine could not function in the thinning atmosphere. It fell behind, leaving only a single pursuer. And they too were slowing, engine spluttering and failing as the altitude increased.

We had almost cleared the atmosphere. I could just make out a violet halo framing the horizon, obscured by inky smoke.

As the last ork fell away, Shard opened the vox, checking the crew’s status. I set Mizar to scan the void, seeking survivors, a single Thunderbolt or Marauder that had made it through the maelstrom. But I found none. Those unclaimed by the ork guns must have been consumed by the explosion, or ripped apart by the energies unleashed by the ork edifice.

Who knew the orks could construct such a machine, its terrible jaws vomiting aircraft, seemingly from nowhere? Yes, we had destroyed it, but there was no reason not to think that more of them lurked somewhere in the swamp. The unexpected raids, the ork jets sneaking through our defences: if they could appear from nowhere, it all made a horrible sense.

By now, Shard had levelled the plane, slumping in her seat and closing the vox. Her back was to me, and I could not see her face. But I saw the shudder that ran through her shoulders, and how her head fell into her hands.

Perhaps she had forgotten me, or in that moment did not care what I saw. I wanted to reach out, rest my hand on her heaving shoulder, but what reassur­ance could I offer? The best I could do was pretend I saw nothing.