"Go, go, go!"
Bulldog surged ahead and Tomi reengaged the automatic guide. The tank bucked ahead and surged faster. The main cannon kept firing one burst after the next. Artillery alarms rang out. Mick disengaged the antiartillery system.
A second later, just behind Bulldog, a wave of Vasilov artillery rockets crashed down. Rock chips and splinters of stone exploded out everywhere.
Tomi didn't pay attention to that. He studied every detail, every rise in the stone, every rock, every crevice—anything that could throw them off. On one side the ridge dropped off, on the other it was ragged and rough. The path he took was the only decent run. All he hoped is it would open up.
"Don't fucking stop!" Mick yelled.
Puck howled in excitement from the back. Vinovy whimpered next to him. The crew in the rear were all strapped in, but even with the restraints they slammed back and forth. It was beyond a rough ride. What grace the Sigg armor had overland was lost the moment the Vasilov had decided to use a tractor.
Conversation still continued in the back. Gous was hunched over his tablet and hadn't stopped tapping since he'd arrived. Kallio was nudged up tight. They spoke between themselves. Finally, Gous grinned and waved his good arm.
"Guys! I got it! Our meal ticket! Holy shit."
Mick looked back. "Shut up! This is fucking serious."
Gous continued. "I logged in to that facility and all the financial tickets for all of Squire are sitting on that server."
"Whaddya mean?" Wellington asked. He looked up from his game of video poker.
Gous spoke quickly, without even glancing at the external monitor. "So when the planet was invaded, the system transferred financial records from one server to the next until they're all on that last server."
"So?" Puck said.
Bulldog slammed to the side, and everyone bounced around as Tomi decelerated and let it stabilize. It didn't halt Gous a bit.
"So every goddamn bank transaction was halted. We snapped some up."
"What ya mean, snapped some up?"
"I hacked in, grabbed the key codes, erased my tracks, and I have them."
Puck gawked with his mouth open. "Where?"
Gous waved the tablet and grinned. "One million credits, totally untraceable."
Tomi tried to focus on driving and listening at the same time. They had cleared the worst of the hill. Not far behind, he could see Bastard racing to catch up.
Mick sent off three more rounds, and then the main cannon was silent. "Bishop is coming up on your left, Tomi."
Bulldog plowed through a patch of gravel and jumped off a hard-packed bank of dust. The tracks spun even quicker, and as they sailed through the air Tomi realized they might've been going a bit too fast.
The tank landed so hard that Tomi's headset flew off and tumbled onto his lap. He knew a second after they landed that something had broken. There was a terrible wobble on one side, and he let it coast to a stop while struggling to grab his headset.
All eyes were on Tomi. Mick sat up; blood ran out from his nose and trickled down his face.
Hess and Wellington popped the hatch and ran out. Tomi followed right behind.
"Everyone out! Spread out! Cover!" Mick called. "Bastard, this is Bulldog, we need a tow, sir."
Tomi shielded his eyes from the dust and peered into the track. Hess and Wellington were staring at a set of roadwheels that were slung to the side. An entire hydraulic support was sheared loose; now it was dragging and threatening to break it all.
Gous continued. "Now we'll set it up so that we slowly peel it off. Equal shares. Well, I'll get a double share, but then—"
Vinovy snapped. "We're stuck out here! In this damned desert! And all you can do is fucking steal from people! You asshole!"
Gous turned and stared at Vinovy. "Hey, you forgetting the potty-mouth jar?"
Vinovy scowled and stared out into the dust.
Hess crawled into the suspension assembly and then popped out a second later. He conversed with Wellington. Tomi stared in and tried to see the root of the damage.
"We'll blow the drives if we keep moving," Hess said.
"But we can move?" Mick said.
"Yah, if we get a tow," Wellington said.
"Bastard, can you send Bravado over? We need a tow."
"Negative. Abandon Bulldog, blow the thermite core, and strike out on foot. Rally point is the research facility. Artillery will screen if necessary, but get moving!"
Tomi stomped to the rear of the tank. "We ain't leaving her! Not like this! We'll drive till she blows, then Bravado can come get us."
Mick climbed out of the TC hatch. "Hess? Can you and Welly do anything?"
"Not without cutting it all loose. We ain't got the kit for it," Hess replied.
Mick cinched up his dust mask and went outside. He stared at the damage with his hands on his hips. A second later, he turned and looked at everyone else. "I said spread out!"
The squad turned and took cover behind boulders, mounds of dust, or even a depression in the ground. They kept watch, but all eyes snapped back to Bulldog.
"We gotta move, and now," Mick said. "Those Vek are right on our tail."
"But we can't leave it," Tomi said. He leaned on the hull. "We'll wait for a tow, Bravado can—"
"The LT said to go, we gotta go," Mick said. "It's just a tank, Tomi. We'll get another one."
"Contact! It's big!" Sophia said.
"Get ready! Prep to break and move!" Puck called.
Mick rushed inside of Bulldog. "Tomi, you blow the thermite on the drives, I got the core."
Every unit was fitted with thermite charges. In the event of capture, the thermite was primed manually and all critical systems were completely and totally slagged.
Tomi was just about to step through the hatch when Sophia called out. "It's just a walker!"
"Wait, wait!" Tomi yelled. He ran off into the dust, past the line of infantry, and watched the bulk of the walker appear out of the dust. He could just barely see it in the faintest morning glow. The sun hadn't risen yet, but it would soon.
"Tomi!" Mick yelled angrily.
The walker trudged up a few steps. It was a big one. Cargo slings still hung off of it. In the rear, two massive rings drug through the dust. One side was painted blue with the picture of a smiling boy eating ice cream. Tomi ran right up in front of it and stood with his arms out.
"What are you doing?" Puck yelled.
"Watch!" Tomi yelled back. He wore a giant grin and stared up at the walker.
The walker took one more step then halted. Then it turned and changed its angle. Tomi had watched crews rig up the walkers. They'd avoid obstacles if they could, and especially biological things. For being massive, they were downright dainty when it came to people.
"Hey, hey!" Puck called out. "Look at that!"
Slowly Tomi sidestepped and walked backward toward Bulldog. The walker trudged slowly closer. While he worked it closer, Hess and Wellington stripped off the two lengths of heavy-duty tow chain and rigged it to the rear.
"It ain't gonna pull it," Hess said.
"Betcha twenty it will," Wellington said.
"Fifty."
"Can I get on this?" Kallio said.
Tomi grinned wider. He'd save their tank yet.
The infantry watched and called out bets. Finally the chains were in place. Now it was the tricky part. Tomi had to steer it close enough, they had to rig it up, and then he had to run inside and help turn the tank. Otherwise there was no way the walker could pull it completely around.
Hess held both of the chain ends. "Closer!"
Tomi stepped closer. The walker halted and took two steps back. Then he went closer and wiggle-wobbled the walker right up to Hess.
"Got it!" Hess yelled.
Tomi sprinted away from the walker, leaped over the chains, and dove through the hatch. He scrambled on the floor, through the dust and dirt, and climbed into his seat.
"It's tight, it's trying!" Hess yell
ed.
The chains went tight, and the walker was halted. Its body dropped lower, and its legs dug in tight.
Tomi gently pivoted the good track forward and the bad track in reverse. The tank slung about slowly.
"It's moving! Keep going! Keep going!" Hess called.
Slowly the armor pivoted, and the walker kept pace. Then, finally, it was clear, and the chains were taut. Tomi released the controls, set the drives into neutral, and held his breath.
The walker halted, as if unsure about the load. It sidestepped one way, then the other, and then dug in its legs and pushed. The chains snapped tight and hummed like a guitar string.
Bulldog crept ahead. The walker trudged forward step by step, each one a measured meter until finally it had a rhythm. It wasn't fast. But it was steady.
"Infantry spread out!" Mick called. "Puck, steer the walker."
"Well, I'll be damned," Hess said.
"Bastard, this is Bulldog, we got a tow. Could you send a couple of units to give us an escort?"
"What?" Lieutenant Torori's voice cracked.
Mick grinned. He leaned over and patted Tomi on the head. "You'll never believe it, but we hooked up to one of the walkers."
"We're sending Delta out to link up, they're closest. Good work."
Tomi stared into the dust. The light slowly grew, and the morning winds kicked up. Never before was he thankful for poor visibility. Though with every gust and every swirl of wind, he feared he'd see the Vek assault suits.
"Contact!" Puck yelled.
Tomi tightened his grip on the autocannon turret controls. Then he remembered that Puck was in front steering the walker.
"It's Devastator!"
Tomi sighed, sat back in his chair, and let the walker do the work.
#
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Deep Space
Umi watched as Bill delicately connected a patchwork of cables and wires. It seemed an impossible task, but Bill's legs deftly wove them in and out at a level pace. Umi liked to watch Bill work; there wasn't a wasted motion.
Around them, the compartment was a mess. Though the crawlers had repaired the critical systems, they hadn't done much cleaning. It was the accumulated junk from some race that no one knew. They left clothing, bits of food that were freeze-dried to dust, and other things that no one could guess at.
Bill stood and backed away. "You won't be able to avoid her now."
"I'm not—"
"Yes, you are."
Umi sighed in his helmet. The moment after they had engaged the stardrive, Rachel stormed out. It took him a second to realize that he'd usurped command in a critical moment. It wasn't his call to make the destination, he knew it, but it had seemed right at the time.
After that he stuck with Bill and helped the Opoolio repair the environmental controls of each chamber. This was the last one that didn't have a gaping hole with stars peeking through. Roughly a third of the starship was airtight.
Bill clattered over to a canister of atmospheric gases and cracked it open. "There we go."
"Safe to breathe?"
Bill popped off his mask. "Eh, stale. Going to be dry as well. Nothing we can do about that, though."
Umi popped the seal and sniffed. Dry. Metal. A touch of scorch. About what he'd expected.
Rachel walked through the door. "Bill, Raziz needs your help."
Bill looked at Umi, cocked his head a bit, and then left.
Rachel waited for the hatch to seal. "You knew the mission."
"I know, take them to Sigg space. Retrofit there."
"And yet you gave the order to go to Kalivostok, in goddamned Vasilov space. Full well knowing that I didn't have time to countermand that order."
Umi looked away. It was dirty pool for sure, but he had friends on Kalivostok. "Maybe these ships can help them hold that line? You ever think of that? What if we supported the Vasilov instead of using them as a meatshield?"
"That's not our call."
"Bullshit it isn't."
"The Sigg were—"
"Were what?" Umi snapped back.
"Chosen for this task long ago. They have the technology, the facilities, the position."
Umi spun around. Chosen long ago? "What do you mean, chosen?"
Rachel swore under her breath. "It's not important, we need to—"
"Bullshit. What do you mean, 'chosen'?" Umi stepped closer. He leaned in and stared at her eyes. "Don't fucking lie to me. Not now. I've been pushed and pulled by this Order of Terra for long enough."
Rachel turned away and took a step toward the door. Her face was tight, her hands at her sides. "It was before Lishun Delta and that debacle. The Vasilovian dukes fought constantly. It wasn't a unified nation. They hadn't even colonized all of their systems. They were content to war among themselves. So we backed the Sigg."
"What?" Umi said. The Sigg history was one of suffering, betrayal, and independence. They took what the Vasilov didn't see fit to have and flourished. "You mean Terra organized it all? Bullshit."
"You don't have to like this."
Umi frowned.
"At that point, the decision was made to stand with the Sigg. The skirmishes with the Vasilov were to secure a few key systems."
"How long have you been planning this for?"
"Long enough," Rachel replied.
Umi shook his head. A pawn. His entire nation a pawn at the whim of someone far away. The goal was noble, one Terra for all of mankind, but when you discovered you were just a piece in a great game...
"We've been funneling technology, tactics, advice, and systems to the Sigg for over a hundred years. Though the rate accelerated recently. The Emflife forced our hand."
"The Boben," Umi said. He'd fought the Boben since he was a cadet. It was a brutal war. A war that taught the Sigg to fight and be the best in the sector. He had never understood why the Boben had hit the Sigg.
"Yes, they came in to pin that edge and isolate the Vasilov. At that point, the Emflife could go in elsewhere."
"Why didn't the Emflife hit then? No one had even seen them in that sector. They were a ghost, a rumor, a boogeyman."
"They decided to fight elsewhere. We've been fighting them off in other sectors for a long time. This is the weak point now."
Umi peered at her. There was more, he could sense it. Did the Boben really strike for no reason just to cut off an edge? Then why did the Kadan keep the Vasilov tied up? Something didn't make sense. Why would the Boben, a nation of mercenaries, suddenly attack a point that wasn't yet critical? Eventually the Vasilov would have stepped in and driven them out with the Sigg. Maybe it wasn't that...
"You sent in the Boben."
"Don't be ridiculous," Rachel snapped back.
Umi saw it—a tic in her eye. Cold anger rolled over him. "You needed the Sigg mobilized. You knew this war was coming. You knew this invasion would come, and you needed the Sigg military-sharp."
"Absurd. The Boben weren't in our plans. You want the truth? We backed the Sigg because we couldn't trust the Vasilov."
"You couldn't control them."
Rachel glared. "The Sigg were a counter to the Vasilov. By having a strong neighbor, we hoped it would force the Vasilov to reform."
"To reform what?"
"That damned feudal system, the feudal military, everything about it. We needed a strong nation there. Instead, they dug in and learned nothing."
Umi clenched his teeth.
"I can't say I like this shit much either. But these starships need a refit. They can't get that in Vasilov space. Sigg Orbital is the only facility around, and we need these ships there. Did you forget the attack on Terra?"
Umi caught the anger in her voice. "No, I didn't forget."
Rachel walked to the door and then looked over her shoulder at him. "Once we rendezvous with the other starship, we're setting course for Sigg Orbital."
"What if the Vasilov are being invaded? I know the Vasilov. They can hold that planet. These starships could give them
the edge they need."
"My mission is to retrieve these ships, not to help the Vasilov."
Umi stepped closer to speak. But Rachel jabbed a finger at him. "If you usurp my command again, I'll shoot you myself."
Umi cracked a slight smile. "I'm going to do the right thing, your orders be damned."
Rachel held his gaze for a long second and then left.
It bothered him to see the Vasilov abandoned. But then he thought of the big picture. If the Vasilov Worlds fell, then his homeland would be the new frontline. Then it wouldn't be some distant conflict, but the Sigg Worlds beneath the iron gaze of the Emflife. He felt guilty for wanting the Vasilov to suffer and not the Sigg.
Now he knew he'd stand with Vasilov, not because it was the honorable thing, but because he didn't want to see the battles fought on his home. That and he was sick of being manipulated. Damn them and their plans from light-years away.
Umi set off into the dead air to find Bill. If logic didn't work, maybe a bit of subterfuge would.
#
Chapter Thirty
Planet Squire, Kalivostok System
Vasilov-Kvinsk Xeno-Archaeology Research Camp
The area around the research facility was a mess of half-wrecked vehicles, heaps of scrap, and growing mounds of dust. The vehicles that could still function were lined up on the far side, waiting. A pair of dust-plowing trucks sat at the front.
A few of the tanks were in line; these bore terrible scars—armor plate shredded open or main cannons torn off. They towed a line of trucks, or trailers, or whatever people and equipment could pile into. It was a convoy of suffering, waiting to depart.
Cannon fire was sporadic in the distance. It was only broken by the sound of the artillery or the staccato dance of the antiaircraft turrets. Small-arms fire crackled, halted, and then started back up.
But through it all was the thermite. The tanks too wrecked to save, or simply worn out, were being burned. One by one the maintenance crews descended upon them, stripped off everything they could salvage, and then popped the charges.
The mix of aluminum and ferric oxide erupted into a mass of molten metal that bored through computer systems. They tore through gear cases, reactors, storage areas, main guns, and final drives. When the thermite finally stopped burning, all that was left was a glowing hole with a slag pile beneath.
Steel Storm (Steel Legion Book 2) Page 19
