Smoke poured from the chimney stack as they approached Tor Kharybdis. The crossing turned yet wilder, and a fierce current slammed into them from the port side. The pilots had been pushed sideways, and the first sight of land had shown how far off track they were. Now they were struggling to resume their course.

The swells lifted the crafts up and threw them down. The blunt nose of each assault ship slammed into the waves, sending sheets of water splashing over everyone. Stomachs lurched as the craft tossed and yawed.

Darkness had fallen when Breve shouted back into the troop compartment. ‘First Company are already landing on Faith Beach!’

They could hear the chatter over the vox as First Company went in. Across the water noise travelled far. In the stillness of the storm came the sporadic patter of hard calibre guns, the deep, persistent thud-thud of autocannons, the higher-pitched staccato boom of the heavy bolters and the tin-rattle sound of stubbers. From this distance the las-bolts were silent, but they made a lightshow of flashing fire, striping the night, dwarfed by the explosions.

Minka looked up through the top hatch, which had been left propped open. She had a rough idea of where they were supposed to land. They were too far out. There was no way they were going to take part in the first wave of landings.

Dido was standing out on deck. Minka shouted her concern to the lieutenant.

Dido already knew. ‘The engine is failing,’ she called back. ‘The tech-priest is working hard.’

As if to reinforce this fact a wave tilted them dangerously. They righted suddenly, as another wave broke over the side of the craft that was alongside them.

Minka clung desperately onto the hatch as their craft was tossed back and forth by the swell. Finally, the engine gasped and ­powered through the flood.

It appeared that they were back on track for the broad shelf of rock under what was labelled as Bastion 4. Dido ran to her Chimera.

A moment later the voxed orders came, ‘Prepare for landing!’

All across the landing craft ramps were closed and secured, protective covers were removed from gun barrels, knives were checked, powercells engaged.

Minka’s squad had an intense air about it. They just wanted to land now. If their deaths were waiting then it was time to get them over with.

‘All ready?’ she said.

They nodded.

She climbed forward to the command cupola and flipped the multi-laser battery on. The pilot light turned green.

Full charge.

They were about four hundred yards from the shore when Minka could make out the defences. They looked just as they had on the map, rising up before them. There was wire, mine fields, pre-sighted fields of fire.

The traitors must know, she thought, but as yet, the traitor guns were silent. It was as if they were holding everything back.