The mood was fragile, but I was managing it. What you definitively don’t want at such moments is a visit from the brass. Which, of course, is what we got.

Admiral Kard came stalking through the drop blister, muttering to the loadmaster, nodding at marines. At Kard’s side was a Commissary - you could tell that was her role at a glance - a woman, tall, ageless, in the classic costume of the Commission for Historical Truth, a floor-sweeping gown and shaved-bald head. She looked as cold and lifeless as every Commissary I ever met.

Admiral Kard picked me out. ‘Lieutenant Neer, correct?’

I stood up, brushing vomit off my suit. ‘Sir.’

‘Welcome to Shade,’ he said evenly.

I could see how the troops were tensing up. We didn’t need this. But I couldn’t have thrown out an admiral, not on his flagship.

‘We’re ready to drop, sir.’

‘Good.’

Just then the destination planet, at last, swam into view. We grunts knew it only by a number. That eerie sun was too dim to cast much light, and despite low-orbiting sunsats much of the land and sea was dark velvet. But great orange rivers of fire coursed across the black ground. This was a suffering world; you could see that from space.

The Commissary peered out at the tilted landscape, hands folded behind her back. ‘Remarkable. It’s like a geology demonstrator. Look at the lines of volcanoes and ravines. Every one of this world’s tectonic faults has given way, all at once.’

Admiral Kard eyed me. ‘You must forgive Commissary Xera. She does think of the universe as a textbook, set out before us for our education.’

He was rewarded for that with a glare.

I kept silent, uncomfortable. Everybody knows about the strained relations between Navy, the fighting arm of mankind’s Third Expansion, and Commission, implementer of political will. Maybe that structural rivalry was the reason for this impromptu walk-through, as the Commissary jostled for influence over events, and the Admiral tried to score points with a display of his fighting troops.

Except that right now they were my troops, not his.

To her credit, Xera seemed to perceive something of my resentment. ‘Don’t worry, Lieutenant. It’s just that Kard and I have something of a history. Two centuries of it, in fact, since our first encounter on a world called Home, thousands of light years from here.’

I could see Lian look up at that. Two centuries? According to the book, nobody was supposed to live so long. I guess at seventeen you still think everybody follows the rules.

Kard nodded. ‘And you’ve always had a way of drawing subordinates into our personal conflicts, Xera. Well, we may be making history today. Neer, look at the home sun, the frozen star.’

I frowned. ‘What’s a frozen star?’