I’m under no delusion. I know who will die when we fire. “There’s still going to be thousands of Reds on there,” Holiday says quietly to me. “Oranges, Blues…Grays.” “He knows that,” Victra says. Holiday doesn’t leave my side. “You sure you want to do this, sir?” “Want to?” I ask hollowly. “Since when has any of this been about what we want?” I turn to the helmsman, about to give the order when Victra puts a hand on my shoulder.
