‘No,’ I replied. ‘For it does not matter what you do. There is no way anyone could defeat that horde. Not even you. We have seen that already. The Green Storm is out of your league.’

‘Last time was hardly a fair match,’ she protested. ‘I lacked my plane, I didn’t–’

She trailed off, sighing, the anger dying in her eyes.

‘Do you honestly think me this malleable?’

‘Flight Commander Shard? Of course not. She would simply prove my misgivings wrong via some cunning strategy and daring skill.’

‘I hate it when other people try and be clever,’ she said, glancing skywards before turning to Plient. ‘Did you ever get around to fixing my Lightning, flight sergeant?’

‘I did, sir. Sorry it took so long. I had to adjust the hard points to facilitate the seer-skulls, and then–’

‘Where’s Prospherous?’

‘In the medi-unit. Unconscious, sir.’

‘Very well,’ she said, reaching into her flight suit and withdrawing a rather crumpled envelope. ‘Simlex, I assume you can read?’

I took the note, breaking the seal and extracting a letter written on Wing Commander Prospherous’ headed paper.

‘To whom it may concern,’ I read, addressing them both. ‘I, Wing Commander Prospherous, in the event of being injured beyond the capacity to command, immediately nominate Flight Commander Shard to act in my stead.’ I glanced at her. ‘How long have you had this?’

‘A while. I need it back, mind. For next time.’

‘It’s undated…’

‘Pays to be flexible,’ she said, tucking the letter into her flight suit. ‘Plient, get to the hangar. I need you to make some cosmetic modification to my Lightning. And Simlex?’

‘Yes?’

‘Is this the skull-thing that flew with us? The one that gave the orks that light show that has so inspired them?’

‘No. This is Kikazar, not–’

‘I don’t care. Just get the right one.’

‘Governor Dolos took it. I have no idea where it could be. She might have destroyed it, or taken it with her when–’

‘We know she hasn’t destroyed it because you showed its files to the ork. Go search whatever’s left of the château. Look everywhere. We need it if this is going to work.’

‘Dare I ask if you have a plan?’

‘Please,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘Flight Commander Shard always has a plan.’

I was hesitant to step outside, my pace slowing as the bunker’s exit loomed ahead. Two guards were posted on the interior, though it was unclear whether their role was to prevent desertions, or they merely thought it safer to guard the bunker from the inside.

They did not waylay me. What did my fate matter to them?