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atmospheric entry。 All other systems reading normal。”
“Check；” said the pilot； automatically pushing his control stick forward to make the adjustment。
“New bearing： one five degrees zero seven minutes。 Confirm course correction。”
“Course correction confirmed；” the servitor said； its yellowing sightless eyes rolling back in
their sockets as it rechecked its calculations。 “Atmospheric entry in T minus five seconds。 Two。
One。 Atmospheric entry achieved。 All systems reading normal。”
“Look at that glow； Dren；” Zil the co…pilot said； his eyes lifting from his instruments for a
fraction of a second to look out the view…portal at the nose of the lander as it was surrounded by a
nimbus of bright red fire。 “No matter how many planetary drops we do； I never get used to it。 It’s
like riding in a ball of flame。 It makes you thank the Emperor for whoever first made heat shields。”
“Heat shields reading normal；” said the servitor； gears whirring inside it as it mistook the
comment for a question。 “Exterior temperature within permitted operational thresholds。 All systems
reading normal。”
“That’s because you’ve only got a dozen drops behind you；” the pilot said。 “Trust me； by the
time you’ve done another dozen you won’t even notice it。 How’s the signal from the landing
beacon？ I don’t want to miss the drop point。”
“Beacon signal reading strong and clear；” Zil replied。 “No air traffic； friendly or hostile。 Looks
like we’ve got the sky to ourselves。 Wait！ Auspex is reading some—”
“Warning！ Warning！” the servitor interrupted； the whirring of its mechanisms reaching an abrupt
crescendo as it burst into life。 “Registering hostile missile launch from ground…based battery。
Recommend evasive manoeuvres。 Missile trajectory eight seven degrees zero three minutes；
airspeed six hundred knots。 Warning！ Registering second missile launch。 Missile trajectory—”
“Evasive manoeuvres confirmed！” the pilot said； pressing his control stick forward as he pushed
the lander into a dive。 “Servitor： belay hostile trajectories and airspeeds until further orders。 Zil；
deploy chaff！”
“Chaff activated。 Instruments reading chaff successfully deployed；” Zil said； his voice growing
suddenly hoarse as he looked at one of the screens before him。
“Wait。 The chaff； it’s not done any good。 It’s as though… Holy Emperor！ None of the hostile
missiles have guidance systems！”
“What do you mean？” the pilot asked as he saw Zil’s face go pale。 “If that’s the case we have
nothing to worry about。 If they’re firing blind there’s not one chance in a thousand of them being
able to hit us。”
27
“But that’s exactly it；” said Zil； his voice frantic。 “I’m reading a thousand hostile missiles as
airborne already。 And hundreds more are being launched every second。 Holy Throne！ We’re flying
into the biggest shitstorm I’ve ever seen！”
“Emergency evasion procedures！” the pilot said； barking out orders as he pushed the lander
forward into an even steeper dive while from outside they could hear the first of the missiles
exploding。 “Servitor： override standard flaps and navigation safety protocols — I want full control！
Make sure your strapped in tight； Zil — we’re going to have to go in hard and heavy！ Looks like
this is going to be a close one…”
Falling。
They were falling。
With nothing to slow or stop them。
Like a comet。
Falling headlong from the stars。
In the lander’s troop compartment； slammed back in his seat by the force of acceleration； it felt
to Larn as though his stomach was trying to push its way up from his throat。 Around him he could
hear men screaming； the sound all but drowned out by the dull thud of explosions from outside the
lander。 He heard cries for pity and muttered oaths； all the while the skin being pulled so tight across
his face he was sure it was about to rip free from his bones。 Then； sounding much louder than any
noise he had ever known before； there came the boom of another explosion and with it the gutwrenching
sound of tearing metal。 With those sounds he found himself forced back against his seat
with even greater force as the fall began in earnest。
We’ve been hit； he thought； overcome with sudden panic while the world began to spin crazily
around him as the lander turned over and over on its axis out of control。 We’ve been hit； the thought
crowded his mind and held him at its mercy。 We’ve been hit！ Holy Emperor； we’re in freefall！
He felt himself struck in the face by a ell and the taste of
the droplets dribbling past his lips telling him it was vomit。 Half mad with desperation； he found
himself wondering incongruously whether it was from his own stomach or someone else’s。 Then
another thought forced its way fearfully into his mind and he no longer cared who the vomit
belonged to。 A thought more terrible than any he had ever considered in his seventeen years of life
to date。
We are falling from the sky； he thought。 We are falling from the sky and we’re going to die！
He felt his gorge rise in a tide of sickly acids； the half…digested remnants of his last meal
spewing uncontrollably from his mouth to soak some other unfortunate elsewhere in the lander。
Certain he was on the brink of oblivion he tried to replay the events of his life in his mind。 He tried
to remember his family； the farm； his homeworld。 He tried to think of fields of flowing wheat；
magnificent sunsets； the sound of his father’s voice。 Anything to blot out the terrifying reality
around him。 It was hopeless though and he realised the last moments of his life would be spent with
the following sensations： the taste of vomit； the sound of men going screaming to their deaths； the
feeling of his own heart beating wildly in his chest。 These were the things he would take with him to
death： the last sensations he would ever know。 Just as he began to wonder at the unfairness of it all
the world stopped spinning as； with a bone…jarring impact and a terrible screech like the death…knell
of some mortally wounded beast； the lander finally hit the ground。
For a moment there was silence while the interior of the lander was plunged into total darkness。
Next； Larn heard the sound of coughing and quiet prayers as the men in the lander drew a collective
breath to find； despite some initial misgivings； they were very much alive。 Abruptly； darkness gave
way to dim shadowy light at the activation of the lander’s emergency illumination system。 Then； he
heard a familiar strident voice begin to bark out orders as Sergeant Ferres sought to re…establish
control of his troops。
“Fall in！” the sergeant shouted。 “Fall in and prepare to disembark。 Get off your arses； damn you；
and start acting like soldiers。 You’ve got a war to fight； you lazy bastards。”
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Releasing his seat…restraints Larn staggered unsteadily to his feet； his hands warily prodding his
body as he checked to see whether any of his bones were broken。 To his relief； it seemed he had
survived the landing little the worse for wear。 His shoulders were sore； and he had the painful
beginnings of a bruise where the clasp of one of the seat…straps had bitten into his flesh。 Other than
that； he had escaped from what had seemed like certain death remarkably unscathed。 Then； just as
he began to congratulate himself on surviving his first drop； Larn turned to retrieve his lasgun and
saw that the man sitting in the seat next to him had not been so lucky。
It was Jenks。 Head lolling sideways at a sickening angle； eyes staring blankly from a lifeless and
slack…jawed face； Jenks sat in his seat dead and unmoving。 Staring at his friend’s body in numb
disbelief； Larn noticed a thin stream of blood trickling from Jenks’ mouth to stain his chin。 Then；
spotting a small bloody…ended piece of pink flesh lying on the floor of the lander beside his feet；
Larn realised that with the force of the landing Jenks must have inadvertently bitten off the end of
his tongue。 As horrified as he was by that discovery； Larn could not at first understand how Jenks
had died。 Until； looking once more at arrangement of seat…restraints around his friend’s body and the
way his head lolled sideways like a broken puppet； Larn realised the restraints had been improperly
fastened； causing Jenks’ neck to snap at the moment of their landing。 The realisation brought him no
comfort。 Jenks was dead。 Understanding how his friend had died did nothing to lessen Larn’s grief。
“Fall in；” the sergeant shouted again。 “Fall in and get ready to move out。”
Still numb with shock； Larn grabbed his lasgun and stumbled past Jenks’ body to join the rest of
the company as they lined up in one of the aisles between the upper deck’s endless rows of seating。
As he did； he became aware for the first time of the sound of distant ricochets clanging off the
exterior of the hull。 We are being fired at； he thought dully； his mind still reeling at the sight of
Jenks’ corpse。 Until； noticing an almost palpable sense of unrest among the other Guardsmen as he
took his place in the line and waited for the order to move out； Larn realised he could smell smoke
and with it； there came an unwelcome realisation that cut through the fog of his grief and seemed to
grip at his heart with clutching icy fingers。
The lander was on fire。
Spurred on by horror at the prospect of being trapped in a burning lander； the Guardsmen began
to hurry for the stairwell while behind them Sergeant Ferres shouted profanities in the vain hope of
maintaining some form of order。 No one was listening。 Frenzied； they rushed down the stairs
towards the lower deck； treading on the corpses of those already killed in the landing。
Running with the others； Larn caught a brief glimpse of their company commander； Lieutenant
Vinters； sitting dead in his seat with his neck broken just like Jenks。 He had no time to dwell on the
lieutenant’s death： caught in the crush of fleeing Guardsmen he could only run with the crowd as
they made for the lower deck； to the assault ramp and freedom。 As they came within sight of it they
found that the assault ramp was still sealed shut； while from all around them the smell of smoke
grew ever stronger。
“Open that ramp！” screamed Sergeant Ferres； pushing his way through the crowd of milling
Guardsmen to where a small group stood studying the control panel governing the ramp’s
mechanism。 Seeing the group raise their eyes to look at him in confusion； he pushed them aside and
stretched out a hand towards a metal lever set in a recess by the edge of the ramp。 “Useless
bastards！” he spat in contempt； his hand closing around the lever。 “The master control panel must
have been damaged in the landing。 You need to pull the emergency release lever — like this。”
Pulling the lever； Sergeant Ferres shrieked in sudden agony as one of the ramp’s explosive
release bolts misfired； a bright tongue of yellow fire bursting from the side of ramp to engulf his
face。 Screaming； a halo of flame dancing around his head； he stumbled blindly against the assault
ramp as the other bolts fired and the ramp fell open behind him。 Falling into the suddenly vacated
space； his body rolled down the ramp and came to a stop partway down it as one of his legs caught
on a protrusion at its side。 For a moment； seeing the strugglings of their sergeant’s body grow still as
29
the life left him； his troops stood gazing at him in shocked silence； hypnotised by the brutal calamity
of their leader’s death。
“We have to move；” Larn heard someone say behind him as he realised how warm it had grown
in the lander。 “The smoke is getting closer。 If we don’t get out of here now we’ll either burn to death
or choke。”
As one； the Guardsmen burst forward to rush down the ramp。 The light outside seemed blinding
in its intensity after the shadowed dimness of the interior of the lander。 Barely able to keep his feet
as the men behind him pushed to get out； Larn stumbled down the ramp with the rest； his first
experiences of the new world before him registering as a disconnected jumble of sights and
sensations。 He caught snatches of an empty landscape through the press of bodies around him； saw a
grey and brooding sky above them； felt a savage chill that bit gnawingly into his flesh。 Worst of all
was t