In the early morning light, Weatherlight rose from the encampment. The engine rattled command tents. Ash from spent logs fled up the volcanic hillside. Metathran stirred in their bedrolls. Minotaurs looked up from sharpening strivas. The perimeter of ghoul sentries turned to see the great ship surge out across the mountains of Urborg.

In his gunnery traces, Gerrard stared down at the conglomerate army. "Life surrounded by death." Agnate was winning the land battle but losing his life in the bargain. His pure heart was surrounded by rot. Even now, he and Commander Grizzlegom mustered their forces for an assault on the first volcano. At the summit, they would meet up with Lich Lord Dralnu and a new contingent of undead.

Gerrard and Weatherlight headed to a different mountaintop for a different confrontation.

"How far out are we?" asked Gerrard into the speaking tube.

"Thirty miles," Sisay responded. "We'll be there in a few minutes."

"Aye," Gerrard said with a nod. "Karn, you're sure about the power signature?"

"It is unmistakable," came the resonant voice of the silver golem. The ship's new configuration allowed her not only to sense the presence of a Phyrexian ship but also to identify it. A huge power signature rose from the central volcano in the range. "Without a doubt, that's where we'll find the Stronghold."

The Stronghold. Gerrard and Hanna had fought epic battles in its corridors. Sisay and Takara had languished in its cells. Tahngarth and Karn had survived its tortures. Selenia and Mirri had not… Now the crew returned to face Volrath's successor-Crovax.

Once a member of Weatherlight's crew, Crovax now was Evincar of Rath, lord of the overlay. He had brought the planeshift to Dominaria. The murder of millions was upon his head. There could be no truer avatar of death.

Gerrard was determined to face him down and kill him.

"There it is," Sisay said.

Gerrard peered out past the bowsprit to a huge mountain. It eclipsed the morning sun and cast Weatherlight in its shadow. The near face was swathed in blackness. Its rocky rim glowed hellishly.

"It's fifteen thousand feet high, with a five-thousandfoot caldera," Sisay said. The rattle of charts came through the speaking tube. "It'll surely have defenses. If I were Crovax, I'd set up cannonades in bunkers along the crater's rim."

A shaft of sun-colored light cracked past Weatherlight's rail. It soared on, striking a nearby hill and melting rock to lava.

Gritting his teeth, Gerrard pointed his cannon toward the peak. Energy rolled from the gun. It sliced through the mountain's shadow and flew to the bunker. The bolt slid through a low window. It lit the space within. Burning silhouettes went to puddles and ash.

"Those bunkers are set up to fire outward, not upward," Gerrard said. "Sisay, bring us in along the crater's rim.

Gunners, watch for more bunkers. Send the roofs down on them."

Tahngarth's cannon barked, ripping down a curtain of fire from another gun.

Gerrard pinpointed the nest. He squeezed off a shot. Plasmatic air splashed into the bunker. Hunks of scale tumbled out. The gun wilted.

Sisay brought Weatherlight up. Sunlight flashed across her mirror hull. She rose above the caldera. The crater centered on a black pit. The Stronghold would be below. Once the caldera was secured, Weatherlight would plunge down that shaft. For now, she traced the rim.

"Let's make one circle do the job," Gerrard said.

The sky suddenly went red. Cannon fire crisscrossed. From embrasures along the inner edge of the caldera, blasts ripped the air.

"Plenty of targets!" Gerrard shouted, standing in the traces.

He let fly a barrage. Bolts plunged toward the bowl. They stitched along beneath the rim. Rock melted. Bunkers collapsed. Power cores blew. The inner edge of the crater crumbled. Basalt boulders rolled down on Phyrexian crews.

All the guns were firing. Tahngarth and Squee, the amidships men, the belly gunner, the tops gunner-all unleashed their fury. Weatherlight seemed suspended on lines of power above the volcano.

Still, they could not catch and fling back all the flack. Weatherlight shuddered. Bolts spattered across her new hull. Where before such blasts would have ripped through wood, now mirrored metal reflected the rays. They stabbed downward. Even her new wings were reflectors.

"Take us low!" Gerrard shouted. "Let 'em rip their own eyes out."

"Aye, Commander!" replied Sisay.

The ship plunged toward her attackers. She was a silver phoenix, flying in the midst of fire. Every metal facet hurled back the blasts. Death poured on the head of the killers. She left a molten ring. Nothing could survive there.

Gerrard drew his gun back. "Cease fire! Let them kill themselves."

The sky stormed with bolts. The land burned. Phyrexians and their guns turned to soup. They wouldn't cease firing, even when they saw what the glorious ship did. One circle would do it. As Weatherlight came back upon her own wake, the beams ceased below.

"All right," Gerrard instructed, "that's just a prelude. There will be other defenders-"

From the wide pit in the center of the caldera rose just such a defender. Twice the length and six times the displacement of Weatherlight, this ship was a monster. It had two hulls, one atop the other. The upper hull seemed a thing of carapace. Its flying forecastle hovered like the claw of a crab. The lower hull consisted of broad plates of armor. From these two structures extended four bony masts, stepped back. The ship bore cannons that were the equal of Weatherlight's-in fact were of identical design. But this was not the most fearsome aspect of the new ship. It was the all-too-familiar outline: Predator.

In the skies over Rath, Predator and Weatherlight had fought a vicious duel. Gerrard had battled the ship's captain-Greven il-Vec. The attack had ended badly, with Gerrard thrown overboard and Karn and Tahngarth taken captive. Such would not happen today. This was no mere battle. This was a showdown.

"Take us down to her," Gerrard ordered.

"Greven is mine," Tahngarth announced.

"Fine," rumbled Karn through the speaking tubes. "You take Greven. I take Predator."

Gerrard and Tahngarth traded amazed looks. The commander responded, "Absolutely, Karn. Predator is yours. You have command."

"Captain," Karn said, "I respectfully request that you steer straight for Predator."

"What do you have in mind, Karn?" asked Sisay as she turned the ship. "A ram attack? A keel strike?"

"I have in mind the utter destruction of Predator," Karn replied. The engines roared to sudden life. The ship tore down across the crater.

"Quite a turn for a onetime pacifist," Sisay commented quietly.

Karn's reply rumbled like a war drum. "I will kill them now because, when I was a pacifist, they made me kill."

Weatherlight herself stole away anymore words. Her spikes sliced the air with a chorus of eerie whistles. The ship tore vengefully toward the waiting craft.

"Predator is rising to engage," Sisay warned. "Rising fast."

"Stay above her. Keep wings spread," Karn instructed. He redoubled the engine's thrust. Weatherlight skipped eagerly, weightless on her new wings. "Gunners, lay down a corridor of fire."

Predator only grew larger, turning with arrogant confidence to face the smaller attacker. She was a massive ship, and she brought her twelve guns to bear on Weatherlight. Scarlet flares lit the cannon tips. They swelled outward, reaching with greedy hands upward.

Weatherlight's own fire stabbed across the roaring air. Cannon blasts met and flung each other back. Weatherlight shot through the breach in them.