Sparker wanted to brief his subordinates. He stood before charts of Crannog Mons, a sheath of papers folded in his fist. He spoke in a tired sounding monotone as his orderly, Evrind, stood at his side, ready to clear up any queries. She was a vicious little fighter, and had been the regimental champion in unarmed combat in her youth. She had the broken nose to prove it.

‘First major casualty!’ he said, pointing out the ruins of Hammer of Spite. ‘Void shields failed in the opening attacks. The other two Leviathans are immobilised, but their void generators are still functioning and they are in position. This is Tor Tartarus,’ Sparker said, pointing to its position on the chart. ‘The former gatehouse. There used to be a bridge connecting the island to the mainland, but it was demolished in the early days of the war. The upper storeys are now host to a withering amount of ordnance. They’re making it hell down there, in the trenches. Whiteshields went in the opening days.’

Dido called out the question everyone was thinking. ‘How did they perform, sir?’

Sparker checked with Evrind. She spoke quietly and he turned to answer them all. ‘Heavy casualties,’ Sparker reported. ‘As expected. But they reached all their first-day objectives by lunchtime. They were in the front line for a number of days. I think high command are pleased.’

‘Will they be joining us?’

Sparker consulted Evrind again. She didn’t appear to know.

‘The Hundred-and-First has been tasked with taking Tor Kharybdis.’ He flipped the chart over to display a map of the island. It was a low cone of black volcanic rock, topped by a hexagonal fortress. ‘Nicknamed the Lone Redoubt,’ Sparker noted. ‘Standard STC template.’ He traced out the six long ridges that tumbled down from the peak. The end of each was fortified with massive rockcrete redoubts, their heavy guns overlooking the black-sand beaches. ‘Again, they’re all STC design. First Company will be landing on the three narrow beaches of Faith, Marius and Josmane. Between Fourth and Fifth Redoubts is the long straight stretch of Tyrok Beach. That is where the majority of Cadians will be landing.’

He tapped the map with his wooden pointer. ‘We’re here. Tyrok Beach.’

Evrind distributed maps of the beach. Minka stared intently at hers. It was a wide and shallow bowl with headlands rising up at either end, defended by standard rockcrete pillboxes with void shield generators.

Dido nodded and took the plans to her sergeants. They were expected to memorise these, to know the main access tunnels, the genatoriums, the water supplies. Everything.

‘Our attack relies on swift and intelligent decisions by you all. I expect everyone to know this off by heart,’ she told them.

Secrecy was of primary importance. Intelligence reported that Tor Kharybdis was currently held by second-rate regiments. Any hint of an impending attack could mean the defences were drastically upgraded.