By Gav Thorpe
Because the battle-brothers of 5th corporation fight to maintain the Chaos-worshipping forces of the Unworthy at bay within the warrens of Port Imperial, it falls to the elite warriors of the Ravenwing to seek a mysterious traitor, one of many Fallen. What awaits Sergeant Cassiel and his Black Knights squad within the depths of the corrupted area station?
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Rukshana asked her. She was Das’s favourite student, a Dalit plucked from the slums by Kolkata University’s Uniquely Gifted programme. The girl reminded Das of herself at seventeen, bright and eager to learn and innocent. How things had changed in just twenty years. ” her students said as one. Das nodded. “No lie. In a few days I’ll be hurtling through the void. ” Their disbelief was to be expected; she reminded herself that most of her students had never left Bengal State, never mind the Communist States of India.
And if Kapinsky was spooked enough to subsidise a short vacation, he wasn’t about to complain. He left the reek of singed flesh behind and elbowed his way through the crowd. He was tall, even for a Westerner, and therefore a good head and shoulders taller than the Indians and Thais around him. He could see over the heads of the milling crowd to the near horizon, where skyscrapers and towerpiles bristled like the brandished weapons of a charging army. In the distance a dozen voidliners, great bulging behemoths painted in the various liveries of their lines, moved with gargantuan grace over the spaceport, coming in to land after long voyages across the Expansion or setting forth on trips to the many far-flung colony worlds.
She’d been recruited to the party in her early twenties, tested psi-positive, and given the cut five years later. At the time, she’d hoped that the augmentation would prove to be a way out of the cloistered groves of academia; she’d dreamed of thrilling missions and derring-do, especially after being sent on training courses to hone her self-defence... But her expectations had been based on too many sensational holo-movies as a kid. The work she’d been given had been routine surveillance, snooping and snitching, as she liked to call it.