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the　dug…outs　did　nothing　to　soothe　already　stretched　nerves。　There　was　a　fight　between　two　Navy
fitters　and　some　PDF　troopers；　and　a　face…to…face　row　between　Ranfre　and　one　of　the　Raptor　pilots；
which　was　only　defused　by　the　calm　intervention　of　Milan　Blansher。
The　worst　argument　occurred　between　Jagdea　and　Blaguer。　The　FSB　had　lofted　only　three　snap
calls　in　the　period；　and　for　the　rest　of　the　time　it　had　hidden　under　its　camo　at　the　first　sign　of　an
alert。
“What　possible　good　are　we　doing？”　she　was　heard　shouting。
Blaguer’s　argument；　supported　by　Marcinon　and　the　leader　of　the　Lightning　wing；　was　that
Gocel　FSB　was　under…strength　as　an　intercept　force　and　should　therefore　pick　its　targets。　Seven　of
the　alerts　had　been　triggered　by　mass…raid　formations　of　bombers；　three　or　four　hundred　machines
strong；　passing　north　towards　the　coast。　Gocel’s　three　wings　would　barely　make　a　dent　in　such
formidable　numbers；　and　launches　would　betray　the　base’s　carefully　concealed　location。　There　was
no　doubt　that　a　mass…raid　force　would　spare　a　bomber　pack　to　annihilate　the　source　of　the　ambushers
if　it　was　discovered。
“Better　to　stay　low；　observe　concealment　discipline；　and　only　respond　to　targets　we　can　deal
with　safely；”　Blaguer　told　her。
“But　in　another　day　or　two；　there’ll　be　so　many　bats　up　there　we　won’t　be　flying　at　all。　We’re
supposed　to　be　intercept；　so　let’s　damn　well　intercept　something。”
“You’re　talking　about　a　wilful　and　suicidal　approach　to　the　prosecution　of　this　conflict。”
“I’m　talking；”　growled　Jagdea；　“about　fighting　this　war　instead　of　sitting　it　out。”
109
Late　in　the　afternoon；　the　fourth　sortie　of　the　day　was　permitted。　Coastal　Operations　had
requested　urgent　data…gathering　from　its　FSBs　along　the　Saroja。　There　was　a　pressing　need　to　assess
the　disposition　of　inbound　retreat　elements　so　the　Munitorum　could　more　effectively　accomplish　the
mass　land　evacuation；　an　operation　already　beginning　at　Ezraville　and　Theda。　Operations　also　hoped
to　locate　one　or　more　of　the　enemy　land　carriers。　Given　the　terrible　strength　of　the　raids　now　being
suffered；　it　was　presumed　that　several　mass　carriers　were　currently　established　in　the　Northern
Desert；　and　Operations　clearly　longed　to　be　able　to　steer　in　Marauder　strikes　to　ease　the　ferocity　of
the　bombing　campaign。
Word　was　that　not　a　single　town　or　city　along　the　Littoral　and　the　Peninsula　remained
untouched。　Quite　apart　from　the　huge　armour　and　troop　evacuation　taking　place　on　the　seacoast；　a
vast　civilian　exodus　had　also　begun。　Deprived　for　the　most　part　of　sea　transit　or　Munitorum　aid；　the
citizens　of　the　Littoral　were　fleeing　west　towards　Ingeburg　and　the　Northern　Affiliation　in　vast；
haphazard　caravans。　Reports　of　the　public　panic　and　mayhem　were　filtering　through。　Several
civilian　convoys　had　been　hit。　The　losses　were　so　distressing；　Jagdea　couldn’t　bring　herself　to　repeat
what　she’d　read　to　the　pilots　and　crews　of　Umbra。
Three　recon　Lightnings　were　to　go　up　on　a　wide　track；　with　a　trio　of　Thunderbolts　riding
shotgun。　According　to　dispersal　rotation；　this　escort　was　due　to　be　provided　by　the　Raptors。　Blaguer
himself　was　slated　to　fly；　but　he　clearly　felt　uneasy　about　what　Jagdea　might　try　to　pull　if　he　was
absent　from　the　FSB。　Blaguer　suggested　that；　if　she　was　so　keen　to　get　airborne；　the　Phantine　might
take　the　job。
Jagdea　saw　through　his　ploy；　and　knew　Umbra　would　be　better　served　if　she　stayed。　She
declined；　citing　the　damage　her　Thunderbolt　had　sustained　on　the　last　sortie。　In　truth；　it　had　already
been　fully　repaired　by　her　devoted　techs；　but　they　knew　what　to　tell　Blaguer　if　he　asked；　and
deliberately　removed　serial　Zero…Two’s　cowling　to　act　out　a　pantomime　of　repair　work。　Jagdea　sent
Asche　in　her　place；　with　Waldon　and　Zemmic。
Marquall　could　barely　hide　his　disappointment。　With　Nine…Nine　fixed　and　cleared　for　flight；　he
was　overdue　a　run；　and　should　have　been　chosen　over　either　Zemmic　or　Waldon。
After　the　six　machines　had　launched；　and　the　shimmer　nets　wound　back　into　place；　Jagdea　went
to　find　him。　Marquall　was　in　his　habitent；　playing　regicide　with　Van　Tull。
“Got　a　moment？”　she　asked。
“I’ve　got　things　to　do；　ma’am；”　Van　Tull　said；　and　made　himself　scarce。
“Get　your　flight　suit　on；”　she　said　to　Marquall。　“I’m　moving　you　up　to　snap　call　standby。”
Marquall　nodded；　but　his　expression　was　glum。　“I　should　have　gone　on　the　last　run。　You　know
that。”
“Depends　what　you　mean　by　‘should’；　Vander；”　she　said。　“You　and　Larice　aren’t　the　best　of
friends　right　now。　Keeping　you　out　of　each　other’s　way　is　probably　a　good　idea。”
Marquall　blushed；　but　it　was　largely　anger。　“She—”　he　began。　“I　don’t　know　what　I’ve　done。”
“You　haven’t　known　Larice　long；　Vander。　Not　like　me。　I　know　what　she’s　like。　One　of　the　best
pilots　it’s　been　my　honour　to　fly　with。　But　also…　headstrong；　proud。　Full　of　ambition；　and　a
compulsion　to　prove　herself　all　the　time。　It’s　her　temperament。　To　fly　the　best；　get　the　best　score…
and　be　seen　associating　with　the　hottest　of　her　male　comrades。　You　had　something　there　that　she
liked　the　look　of。　A　reputation　in　the　making。　But　then；　that　mis…launch。”
“I　was　a　laughing　stock。”
“For　about　ten　minutes。　I　haven’t　heard　it　mentioned　since。　But　Larice…　Well；　that　was　a　blow
to　her　pride。　She’d　made　a　show　of　picking　you　as　the　Next　Big　Thing；　and　there　you　were　suddenly；
the　subject　of　scorn。　Now　you　might　wince　and　shrug　it　off；　but　Lance’s　pride　gets　in　the　way。　She
felt　some　of　that　laughter　was　at　her　expense；　and　maybe　it　was。”
“So　she　just　cuts　me？　Freezes　me　out？　Drops　me　as　fast　as　she　latched　onto　me？”
“I’m　afraid　that’s　her　way；”　Jagdea　said。
110
“Great；”　Marquall　said。
“Larice　is　strong…　as　a　pilot。　As　a　person；　she’s　unusually　fragile。　I　know　it’s　easy　to　say；
Vander；　but　just　move　on。　There’s　a　war　to　wage。　Another　sortie　or　two；　I’m　certain　you’ll　soon　be
getting　back　in　your　stride；　building　on　the　promise　you’ve　shown。　It　wouldn’t　surprise　me　if　she
became　interested　in　you　all　over　again。”
Marquall　snorted。
“Of　course；　once　bitten…”　Jagdea　smiled。
By　19。00　hours；　as　evening　began　to　drape　across　the　lake；　the　recon　flight　and　its　escort　went
overdue。　Last　transmission　had　been　routine；　forty　minutes　before。　No　vox　response。　Nothing　on　the
auspex　or　modar。
The　pilots　of　Umbra　gathered；　pacing　and　chatting　nervously。　The　mood　in　the　camp；　under　the
claustrophobic　spread　of　the　netting；　became　charged。
“I　want　to　take　a　flight　up。　Combat　air　patrol。　Take　a　look　for　the　missing　planes；”　Jagdea　said　to
Commander　Marcinon。
“Request　denied；”　said　Marcinon。　“For　now；　at　least。　Let’s　not　get　precious。　They’ve　got　an　hour
left　in　their　tanks。”
“Depending　on　how　they’ve　been　flying；”　said　Jagdea。　“One　serious　air　brawl；　and　you　can
halve　that。　I　repeat　my　request。”
They　were　standing　in　the　Operations　room。　Circulation　fans　whined　overhead　and；　by　the　light
of　caged　glow…globes；　Navy　tactical　officers　sat　before　flickering；　empty　displays。
“Anything？”　Marcinon　called。
“Some　activity　in　quadrants　four　and　nine…two；　commander；”　reported　the　chief　operator。
“Enemy　movements；　but　way　off。　Nothing　from　our　flight。”
“They　can’t　all　have　been　stung；”　murmured　Oberlitz；　the　chief　of　the　Lightning　wing；　the　786th；
giving　voice　to　the　private　fear　they　had　all　been　hiding。　Oberlitz　an　with
thin　lips　that　he　licked　as　a　nervous　habit。　Like　Jagdea；　he　was　now　anxious　about　his　crews。　She
had　an　ally　of　sorts　against　Marcinon　and　the　chief　of　the　Raptors。
“I　formally　repeat　my　request；”　said　Jagdea。　“Let　me　get　machines　up　now　before　the　situation
changes　and　we’re　forced　to　lie　low　with　the　nets　sealed。”
Marcinon　looked　at　Blaguer。　Blaguer　nodded。
“Request　granted；”　said　Marcinon。
Jagdea　ran　out　of　the　Operations　block。　The　pilots　had　congregated　outside。　“Blansher！
Marquall！　We’re　up！　Let’s　go！”
Their　machines　were　already　on　the　ramps。　By　the　time　the　three　pilots　had　suited　up　and
checked　their　kit；　the　fitters　had　finished　pre…flight。　Jagdea；　Blansher　and　Marquall　ran　up　to　the
matt…decks　and　the　ground　crews　locked　them　tight　in　their　cockpits。
“Check　back；”　Ja