It showed the Lord Marshall of Space, a man not known for his level temper, driving his mechanical heel through a Ghast helmet whilst scowling around his pipe. ‘I'm stamping out tyranny,’ said the caption. ‘What the bloody hell do you think you're up to, eh?’ Smith stood in the atrium and looked ...
The floor shook beneath him, a girder moaned as it stretched. Tranquility was breaking apart. A group of Yull were looting an overturned stall, stuffing bottles of dandelion wine into a sack. An officer watched approvingly, barking orders and occasi...
Behind them, something was exploding in the Fist of Righteousness, far away. Did we do that? Carveth wondered. Smith was in the cockpit before her as, with a great lurch, the Pym pulled free of the stricken warship. Carveth stumbled and fell onto her back, and remained there until Suruk undid the...
Isambard Smith lay on his bed like a castaway drifting on a raft, watching the ceiling fan turn above his head. He thought about Imperial attack shuttles, rising above a forest so thick that it was always night between the trees. Fire blasted from their engines. Flames washed over the foliage lik...
Clear, clean light streamed in through the window. It was too nice a sky for anything evil to happen under it. He washed at the sink in his room and dressed. He hid his rifle between the mattress and the frame of the bed and strapped the Civiliser to his side. This place w...