‘No,’ I gasp, but it’s already happening, the terrible vision the Ifs showed me. Two of the fighters split off and strafe the ship’s sides, aiming for the fuel tanks. With an explosion like a bellow, the Charis drops from the sky, engines screaming. At the last moment Silas pulls up out of the descent, but it’s too late. The ship meets the ground with a sickening, deafening impact. I choke and stumble forwards. Through the pall of dust I see that the Charis’s windshield is shattered, smoke rising from the twisted metal of the sides, that in the pilot’s seat, a figure with black, untidy hair slumps, lifeless.

Someone is yelling for me to run. Dazed, eyes burning with tears, I look around as the fighters bank and return, as one of them splits off, and – engines blasting – descends to the dust.

I can’t see, can’t think, all I can do is watch as the fighters fly low, strafing the area. The G’hals run for the mare, Falco covering them, firing wildly into the sky. Then, charges explode, and with a cry and a splatter of blood she spins to the dirt.

‘Falco!’ I lunge towards her, only to stop dead.

The cold mouth of a gun has been jammed hard against my skull, in the killing spot.

‘Don’t move,’ the General orders over the engines, her voice breaking.

‘What are you doing?’

‘What I have to.’ There’s a whine, as the pistol charges up. ‘If they’ll pay a hundred thousand credits for your life, then maybe they’ll agree to spare whatever’s left of mine.’

‘General, you don’t understand.’

‘Tamane.’ The gun bites into my skin. ‘They told me what you did. I knew you were a killer and a traitor, but that… Thousands, Low. All of them young. More left sick for life.’

‘Please.’ I try to turn around. ‘Gabi—’

‘Ortiz!’

The voice comes from everywhere at once, magnified over the roar of the ships.

‘Ortiz!’ the voice barks, louder this time. ‘Stand down. That is an order.’

Automatic cannon beams break through the dust to fix upon targets. Rat and Bui raise their hands, staring up at the crafts above with hatred. Peg kneels by Falco, sobs shaking their chest.

We are surrounded.

Finally, the noise of the engines lessens as the lead fighter lands. A figure climbs from the hatch, followed by three elite soldiers. A woman with grey, tightly curled hair and the uniform of the Accord High Command.

Commander Beatrice Aline.

‘General Ortiz,’ she calls across the distance. ‘I hereby order you to stand down.’

I feel the gun tremble. ‘Gabi—’

‘I said don’t move!’ the General barks. ‘Commander Aline, this is the traitor Life W.P. Lowry. She’s the one who stole the formula used on Tamane.’ Her voice cracks. ‘Do you even know how many you killed, Low?’