He lifted his head from the scope.
Khallini!
Khallini and his damned robo-dog were out in front, floating along the ground toward the enemy.
Hover vehicles floated.
People didn’t.
The way Khallini was moving was so unlikely, it felt like a holo-game.
Osu rested his head back against his rifle and sighted in on Khallini.
His finger tensed.
Why should he care that the withered little gnome was a relic of another epoch? Khallini was a traitor. And he was responsible for Nydella’s death.
A quick burst of flechettes.
It should be easy.
But it wasn’t.
He told himself Khallini could prove their most valuable combat asset in this battle, but he wasn’t sure that was the reason he stayed his hand.
“Change of plan,” said Fitz, jerking Osu off his aim as he turned the tub sharply around. “All vehicles, follow that wizard. I’m not gonna lose my ship. Or Fregg. And the only way to get them back is through the enemy.”
Osu shifted position so he could fire to the vehicle’s front.
The Legion had taught him to be ready for anything. But he hadn’t thought that would mean being part of a cavalry charge.
And that’s what this was. The four foldable hover-tubs were counter-charging a column of around forty unarmored utility trucks.
It was insane. But Osu understood that everything he thought of as normal would have to be questioned in the presence of the sorcerer.
He sighted Khallini through the scope once more. In his black uniform, advancing on the enemy, he looked as much a warrior as a sorcerer. 3Condax was rolling on the ground in front, projecting a force shield. The bolts and bullets from the enemy were sliding off, smearing sparks and plasma over its front, revealing that its shape wasn’t the bubble Osu had seen before. It was more like a snowplow, angled to one side and wide enough to protect the Chimera tubs behind.
Well, I’ll be skragged.
Only two hundred meters separated the two charging formations.
Phantom was less than a klick away, but there was a lot to get through first.
Khallini raised his cane and presented it horizontally against the oncoming trucks, as if warding them off. With his other hand, he made a cutting gesture in the air.
The Andromedan fire was so intense against the shield that Osu couldn’t see what he was about to crash into. He could hear the whine and sizzle of bolts and the rumble of the big wheels and the engines that powered them.
Suddenly, Khallini snatched 3Condax into his arms and took off vertically into the air, taking a great deal of the enemy fire with him.
The trucks were fifty meters off. Closing fast.
Osu opened up. His rifle bucked against its firing mount as he poured bursts of supersonic flechettes into the trucks.
Even before he fired, the front few ranks of oncoming vehicles veered wildly off course. One was rolling on its side. Several collided. All were slowing to a halt.
Osu didn’t slacken his fire until an amber barrel overheat warning appeared in his scope.
His spine, though, was chilled to the bone.
The drivers had all died simultaneously. Before Chimera Company had fired. He was sure of it.
Sorcery!
They crashed into the enemy formation, slicing into the column of trucks.
Fitz swerved violently to avoid collisions. Osu gave the enemy hell at point-blank range, spreading the flechette love in short bursts—whenever Fitz’s violent maneuvers weren’t threatening to overturn the hover-tub.
Catkins was crouching behind the tub’s left wall, firing his plasma pistol over the side.
Nyluga-Ree, meanwhile, had drawn two long-barreled blaster pistols and was wreaking some personal vengeance on the enemy. The Glaenwi battle cries she was howling set his teeth on edge.
But it was the PA-71 bucking in his arms that was doing the real damage. Eviscerating the soldiers in one truck after another.
And then they were through. Phantom was within sight.
“Hjon to all vehicles, wheel around for another pass. Take out these trucks.”
“No!” said Fitz. He opened up the engine, sending the tub speeding toward Phantom.
Hjon’s tactics made sense. The enemy in the trucks were confused and now was the time to kick them hard while they were down.
First, destroy the enemy’s ability to conduct offensive operations. Then mop up.
One of the rearmost trucks was reversing to chase the Chimeran tubs. Osu fired into the driver’s position, shattering it and the person inside.
“Head for the Phantom!” Fitz called over the radio. “Follow Khallini. He’s the key to getting our ship back.”
“You heard the boss,” said Hjon. “Forward!”
Osu put several more bursts of fire into the trucks that looked most likely to come after them. Then he let his barrel cool for a few seconds while he turned to see where they were headed.
Phantom lay ahead, just seven hundred meters away. She was covered in Corrupted workers who had all but cleared away the burial dirt. People and equipment were clustered around the main hatch on the port side of her hull.
His view of Phantom hazed.
Ahead of the four Chimera Company tubs—scorched and scored but still driving strong—the air shifted and revealed itself to be a lie.
The open ground wasn’t open. It was defended by ramparts constructed from pulverized stone. Heavy support guns were stationed at reinforced strongpoints set at regular intervals along the line. They could try driving around the defensive structure, but their flanks would be raked with fire as they detoured.
Behind them, the trucks had regrouped and were charging their rear. Khallini was nowhere to be seen.
Azhanti! Osu touched his left breast over his tattoo of the Immortal Empress. This was going to be brutal.
“We go through,” said Hjon. “It’s our only chance.”
“Good call,” Osu muttered. “Though it isn’t much of a chance.”
Blaster bolts screeched into the tub from all sides. Osu could feel their heat on his face, but he ignored the incoming rounds as he fired bursts at the closest strongpoint.
Fitz was pushing the hover-tub so hard, it was swaying like a rowboat on an ocean swell. Accurate fire was impossible, but he sprayed bursts and hoped for the best.
And got lucky. Before the support gun in the nearest strongpoint could fire, the gunner and loader were shredded by his fire.
Two more Corrupted raced to take the place of the dead.
Beneath Osu’s feet, the engine screamed, cranked up to the max. The gravitics gave a Devil’s hum of whining harmonics, which set up an unfortunate resonance in his bladder.
He ignored all of that and glanced ahead. It would take everything the tub’s powerplant could give, but he believed they had a chance of cresting the ramparts and flying across to the other side.
Suddenly, ceramic stakes emerged from the base of the ramparts and locked in so they were angled toward the front.
There was no way through that barrier.
“That’s cheating,” shouted Fitz over the din. “Hold on everyone.”
Osu fired on the strongpoint again, but the tub was rocking so hard from its exertions that he couldn’t see what effect he was having.
And still they sped headlong at the bizarre defenses that could have come from an epoch of arrows, spears, and catapults.
“We just have to get past this lot,” said Fitz. “Our tubs don’t have to be drivable on the far side.”
“Did someone order air support?” asked a husky female voice.
Without letting up on his rifle fire, Osu glanced up in time to see Annihilation making a strafing run along the line of enemy defenses.
Missiles streaked down, blasting the gun positions into smoking craters. Clearing the ground by just twenty meters, the little bubble ship unleashed heavy blaster fire that cleared th
e trench of its defenders.
The ship passed over the end of the line, then raced into the sky to come about for another run.
The enemy were stunned. But not all had been killed. A blast from one of their heavy guns hit the hover-tub beneath its nose.
Osu staggered under the impact, instinctively grabbing hold of the overhead rail.
The gravitics stuttered.
But the horizontal propulsion kept going full pelt.
The tub nosedived, dug into the ground and pinwheeled ass over front.
Osu was thrown every which way, his world smeared into a rotating blur filled with screams of panic and the wrenching of metal as the vehicle tore apart.
He was thrown clear and landed hard against his side on the rocky ground.
The taste of blood was strong in his mouth. It hurt to breathe.
Incredibly, the twisted hover-tub had righted itself and was headed for the enemy line. But the plucky vehicle had lost height and wasn’t going to clear it. Fitzwilliam jumped out, dodging a flurry of blaster fire.
The captain fired his alien hand cannon, and the enemy fire ceased.
Suddenly, Osu realized the true horror of what was about to happen. The vehicle was about to crash. And his PA-71 was still inside.
Where the hell would he get another?
“My rifle!” he cried as the tub rammed into the ceramic spars, cracking them. The doomed vehicle pushed on through the rampart wall, which collapsed with the mangled hover-tub embedded inside.
Two of the other tubs fared better, crashing through the barrier, their occupants firing down on the enemy. The tubs belly-flopped onto the other side and would move no more.
The last vehicle was on fire, sideways on at the base of the enemy ramparts, but its occupants were out and charging the line.
Annihilation swooped in for another strafing run.
While the bubble ship kept the enemy’s attention, Osu checked his comrades. Catkins and Ree were fine. Fitz was almost at the enemy’s line, on the ground, sheltering from the Annihilation’s fury.
Osu drew his pistol and joined Ree and Catkins. Together, they jogged over to Fitz. Osu radioed in the status of his tub’s occupants to Hjon.
Hugging the cover of the ruined ramparts, they waited for Annihilation’s tour of destruction to pass their portion of the line before crossing the obstacle and running for the Phantom.
Missiles rained down, covering the area with fire and hot dirt. How much ordnance had they packed into that little ship?
Through it all, Osu could see Phantom clearly.
The air shrieked in renewed protest as something even more violent than Annihilation streaked into the battle zone.
Dropships.
Dozens of them were about to interpose themselves between Osu and the Phantom.
Half were the standard Legion “Alvie” ALV-8 dropships he’d trained and fought in.
And half were not.
* * * * *
Chapter 53: Justiana Fregg
Phantom
Fregg’s muscles locked.
Someone was coming…
Or some-thing.
She heard a scratching along the passageway below her crawlspace.
Desperately, she tried to shift the cover back over the hole, but she knew it was too late. She drew her blaster.
“Bleah!”
“Bylzak’s ballsack! It’s you,” she said to the fat ball of fluff ambling on its six legs along the passageway, its claws making the scratching noise.
Hubert looked up at her in the overhead. His brilliant green eyes seemed to be pleading.
“No,” she said firmly and slid the cover over the hole, shutting off the sound of his bleating.
Phantom had a network of crawlspaces and hidey holes for smuggling cargo. In fact, she had more than one.
The captain had always impressed on them that, if they needed to hide from boarders, they needed to wait until the dirty ship stealers had dropped their guard before teaching the skraggs not to mess with Phantom. To that end, there were plenty of viewpoints linked to hidden cameras.
She rolled onto her back and activated the viewscreen over her head to take a quick scan of the ship. She was doing this inside a tiny space less than two feet high, but that didn’t matter. The cramped space was nothing she needed to think about.
The Corrupted were moving through Phantom quickly, securing key points and sweeping for any crew. They were different from the ones she’d seen and heard about. Perhaps they had completed their mutation into their final form? They were humanoids covered in rusty brown feathers. Whether they had once been human, Ellondyte, or Zhoogene, she couldn’t tell.
Through the flight deck window, she could see a battle raging on the planet. Chimera Company was fighting to get through to her. They had an exfil option with Ghost Shark and its Slern pilot. They weren’t taking it. They were risking all to come for her.
Damn them!
Now, she felt guilty for abandoning the wretched basten goat. The being Darant cared for most in the entire universe.
Which was rather sweet of him, actually.
After checking that there was still a little time before the Corrupted would sweep this section of Deck Two, she opened the hatch again.
Hubert was still there, green eyes watching her expectantly.
“Okay,” she whispered. “But only because I like fresh milk in my coffee.”
She let the rope ladder down and descended. Heart throbbing at her insane stupidity—this was the kind of thing the captain would do—she scooped up the dumb beast and climbed back up.
The goat was rigid with tension but didn’t struggle. Didn’t make a sound, either. Maybe Hubert had smelled the intruders and knew he and his adopted family were in danger.
Fregg hauled the cover over the hatch and activated the seals to melt it into place. Over the top, she locked in the stealth cover.
Radar, thermal sensors, microphones—in theory, any kind of sensor the Corrupted might use to check for hidden surprises would not reveal her, so long as she kept safely inside the hidden areas. There was enough food and drink within the secret network to keep the entire crew supplied for weeks. There was waste recycling capability too, though that was something she didn’t want to think about for as long as possible. Had Darant left fodder? That was another problem that could wait.
“Now what?” she asked the goat.
“Bleah?” he called softly.
“Yeah. You can speak. But keep the noise down.”
Hubert chose silence.
“Good boy. Okay, let’s see what we’re up against.”
She set the spy views running through the ship, gasping when she saw a Corrupted team moving directly below her.
Most of the activity was on the flight deck. The commander was there, a big brute with a chest the size of a small planet and an extra pair of arms sprouting out of its shoulders. It was different from the basic soldiers in that it had no feathers, and she could see it had been human. The creature was naked and filthy. Its genitals were withered, but it had clearly been a man once.
She estimated twenty Corrupted were aboard. That meant most of the ship was unoccupied. Unfortunately, they were leaving guards at key points. Two by the main hatch. One at each turret. And skragg it! One in Engineering.
“We could sit it out,” she told Hubert.
He didn’t reply, and she couldn’t blame him. That wasn’t what the captain expected of her.
For over a minute, she studied the feed from Engineering. She could disrupt parts of the ship from the crawlspace, but she could do a lot more from Catkins’ domain.
The guard was wearing dusty work clothes and cradled a blaster rifle. It seemed alert but lacked curiosity. “Probably another man,” she concluded.
Hubert replied with an angry bleat and walked away.
After a few strides, he stopped, sniffed, and turned back. Pushing past her in the narrow space, he carried on in the other direction.
; Fregg consulted the map.
Well, I’ll be skragged, she thought. That’s the way to Engineering.
She twisted around and followed Hubert.
At least someone knew where they were going.
* * * * *
Chapter 54: Osu Sybutu
“Those droppers hold either legionaries or Andromedans,” said Fitz. “Let the jacks cover our rear and support our assault on Phantom. Kill the others.”
As the Alvies sliced through the air toward them, Osu’s steps faltered.
What was he? Deserter or hero?
Three Alvies landed behind them. Legionaries deployed, clad in combat armor and wearing the legionary helm Osu missed badly because it would make sense of the mayhem.
The legionaries let loose with their PA-71s on targets all around that Osu hadn’t noticed.
On the dropship’s nose, a cannon traversed and then set its barrels spinning in an angry buzz that blasted the enemy’s ramparts.
The closest dropper had both of its side panels retracted. A side gunner at a swivel-mounted SFG2 suppression gun waved at him to get the hell aboard.
Osu hesitated. He caught the eye of Catkins and Ree. All had their reasons for mixed feelings about the jack dropship.
Fitz had no such dilemma. He ignored the dropships and raced for the enemy’s wrecked defenses and, beyond, the Phantom.
“Sybutu, it’s Bronze. What’s the play, Sarge?”
Osu glanced into the chaos of explosions, gunfire, running people, and war machines pregnant with firepower. Without a helm, he couldn’t tell where Bronze was speaking from.
Osu didn’t need to know to give a clear answer. “Sybutu, Bronze and Zavage, you already have your orders. Follow them.”
“Hold the line,” the two sappers chorused.
But it wasn’t just SOTLs in the party. Catkins and Ree were headed toward Phantom, but they weren’t soldiers.
Osu ran for the open side of the dropship.
Halfway there, an unbearable noise violated his ears. Pulsing, beating, unnatural, and so loud! He stumbled on with his hands pressed against his ears.
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