‘Don’t you see, sir?’ he said. ‘Remember what you said, about not being able to capture the conflicts? Well, I’ve jury-rigged a housing for one of your seer-skulls. This is from a Marauder bomber, Hephaestus. The hard points are normally used to integrate weapon systems, but it should now be able to house the seer-skull. I think I could refit any of our craft now I’ve got the hang of it.’

He was beaming with pride. I could only stare.

‘But… is this a sanctioned modification?’ I frowned. ‘Has a tech-priest approved it?’

‘Ah,’ Plient replied, smile slipping a shade. ‘Well, sir, not exactly. But our enginseer, Calov-7C, sanctioned us to make repairs and necessary modifications to craft, subject to his inspection and approval.’

‘And you think he will approve this?’

‘I doubt it, sir.’

‘That does not trouble you?’

‘It would trouble me more if he did. The last I saw of him was when his transport collided with an ork fighter. The explosion was so fierce that it baked a mile of swampland dry.’

‘Then… you complete the repairs alone?’

‘Oh, me, a few others,’ Plient replied. ‘It’s mainly replacing armour plates and patching up holes. Wing Commander Prospherous says I’m proof that any imbecile can do it.’

He seemed unduly proud of this fact.

‘You aren’t worried about what happens when a new enginseer is assigned to the unit?’

‘I was a little, sir,’ Plient replied. ‘But Wing Commander Prospherous reassured me.’

‘Did he now?’

‘Oh yes. He said that by the time we see another tech-priest, it is unlikely any of the planes I’ve worked on will still be here. And I’ll probably be gone too.’

‘You think this good news?’

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘It means we must be close to victory. And to tell you the truth I’m looking forward to redeployment. I don’t like the climate here, it’s too muggy.’

I could not think what to say and merely nodded, my gaze flicking to the panel. The design was familiar.

Could I trust his work? The mysteries of machine-spirits were beyond me. I had received training and sanction from an adept to maintain and attend my seer-skulls. The principle here was the same, though the execution sounded rather suspect. Plient was a trustworthy fellow and would only have the best intentions. But he was tampering with devices beyond either of our ken.

But what choice did I have? If I wanted to really fly, this was the only way.

‘I… thank you, Plient,’ I said. ‘Did Wing Commander Prospherous approve this?’

‘Oh yes, sir,’ said Plient, nodding. ‘The wing commander said I should do whatever it took to get that… to help Propagandist Simlex. Honestly, I was a bit surprised sir. I did not think he cared for you, but after that Valkyrie mission he changed his mind completely. He really wants to get you in the air.’