‘One moment, Plient, the blasted scabbard is stuck.’

They were seconds from impact.

‘Sir? Flight Commander Shard!’

To say she pulled up at the last second would discredit her skill. It was less than a second, some micro-measurement of time known only to agents of the Ordo Chronos. Her fighter pirouetted from the onrushing ork, releasing a barrage of flares. They burst alight about the ork’s aircraft, a number landing in the open cockpit. Smoke was soon accompanied by flames, and the xenos craft pitched from the sky, corkscrewing towards the swamps below.

‘Were you saying something, Plient?’

‘No, sir. Otherwise I might appear foolish.’

‘Indeed. Well, I have exhausted available targets. Back to the château for some light refreshment. You had better tag along.’

‘Thank you, sir. I have mislaid my escort.’

‘Troubling. Though not as troubling as someone entrusting you with an aircraft. Our deficiency of experienced pilots must be worse than I thought.’

‘I couldn’t say, sir.’

‘Did you at least collect your package?’

‘I did, sir. He’s safely aboard. Perhaps you’d like to speak with him?’

I heard her snort over the vox-channel.

‘You always know how to make me laugh.’

She cut the vox. It was only silent for a moment before crackling back into life.

‘Sir?’ Plient asked. ‘Are you all right back there?’

‘Quite well, Plient, if a little shaken.’

‘Understandable, sir. It was a little dicier than I’d have hoped. Fortunately, the God-Emperor was watching over us, for we were rescued by one of the Aeronautica Imperialis’ finest officers, Flight Commander Shard.’

‘Yes, I heard your exchange. She must have been broadcasting on all vox-channels.’

Silence.

‘Yes, sir,’ he said after a time. ‘I apologise, sir, in the excitement I did not notice. I hope you did not find our words too shocking. Soldiers can sometimes be a little crass. The banter defuses tension, sir.’

‘Not to worry, Plient. I found it illuminating. Besides, that is why I am here. I want to capture the true nature of the conflict, not the sanctified picts we normally produce.’

‘You weren’t offended then, sir?’

‘I was thankful to get a glimpse of Flight Commander Shard in action. I do regret being unable to capture any of it, but I am sure I will have another opportunity.’

‘I have no doubt, sir. Flight Commander Shard is our most skilled fighter ace.’

‘I’m quite aware,’ I said. ‘Flight Commander Lucille von Shard, flight number six-one-six, has a most decorated history – hardly a surprise given her lineage. Her father, Colonel Horotha Shard, commanded the Verlaian One Hundred and Fifth Regiment, whilst her mother, Tazinia, was a tank commander in the Nauticium One Hundred and Twelfth. Both heroes and martyrs, too.’

‘Sounds like you’ve done your research, sir.’