Furnace (Hunter-Killer #1)

Chapter 27 - The Rising Tide

"All units, on my lead!" Ryke bellowed over the comm as he led the mechs of HK-Rupture out through the armoured gates of Stamm Basin at a run, the thunder of their mechanical feet echoing across the sand-blasted lake bed. More Hunter-Killers spilled from other entrances as the human forces scrambled to deploy before the Scraegan hammer could fall.

A Scraegan army. That was not a phrase he could say he'd ever heard. It simply didn't match the way the Scraegans operated. He didn't even know what form a Scraegan army would take. Would they just come crashing down on Brekka like a tidal wave? Or would they set up for a siege? Or, would they try to tunnel under the wall?

No use dwelling on it now, he decided. They would find out one way or another soon enough. A dozen other Hunter-Killer squadrons were racing out across the rugged plateau that spread out to the south of the city, its flat surface punctuated by craggy outcrops of burnt rock, small fissures and a host of heavily dug in static defences radiating out from Brekka in concentric rings. Ryke glanced at his HUD, noting the pulsing green globe on the terrain map that indicated their target zone, and began to angle his run towards it. So far he saw no sign of the Scraegans on his sensor but that didn't mean they weren't coming.

"What in the Everflowing River do they mean by an army?!" Koral's shrill voice speared over the comm as they traversed the plateau. "They don't ... they move in packs! They always have! They wouldn't..."

"How many packs make an army?" Thaye drawled as the young pilot's voice trailed off. "Keep you're spine strapped in, girl. If they want to line up in front of the biggest guns in the south I'm not complaining."

"Well, no prizes for guessing what they're doing here," Preese scoffed. "Guess they want their friend back."

Ryke snorted. "Over my dead body. If they want to attack Brekka they are more than welcome. The River'll be thick with Scraegan bodies today." He paused for a moment to check their distance to the target zone then flicked his comm to the local channel. "HK-Rupture – HK-Bandit. This is Sergeant Vannigan, callsign Lockjaw. Reporting for deployment."

"Copy, Lockjaw. Lieutenant Axinar – callsign Charger," replied a woman with a crisp, light voice. "Take the west side of the trench-works and spread between the two pounders. No Scraegan gets close. Those guns are your responsibility – understood?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Ryke clicked the comm back to his squad-wide band. "HK-Rupture on me – standard open defensive deployment. You all know the drill – Goliaths at the back, Riots in the front and Raptors running interference. We've got a couple of guns to look after so they can blow the Scraegans to the Everflowing."

Acknowledgements piled through the comm and HK-Rupture piled on speed as they swept into the deployment zone. The 'pounders', as Lieutenant Axinar had called them, were shovel-fronted bunkers that housed massive three-barrelled cannons within their heavily armoured shells, each one as long as a Hunter-Killer. Dug into deep trenches between them were broad, snub-nosed mine launchers, ready to launch their payloads into the earth and bring any attack force to the surface where they would be pounded to dust by Brekka's ordnance.

Men and women in the grey livery of Brekka's militia skittered frantically between them, spines of their anti-armour rifles just visible as they mounted firing steps. Scout Cadre skiffs whipped back and forth across the defensive lines in interlocking patrols, kicking up plumes of dust and dirt as they went. Ryke's unit passed the mechs of HK-Bandit, their hulls streaked with black paint slashes and scorched from battle – a hardened unit if their appearance was anything to go by.

His Hunter-Killers loped into position just behind a second set of trenches, spreading out into their battle lines just as they'd practiced over and over again on the Stamm Basin training fields. The Goliaths edged a few dozen yards back from the main line and the rest of the squadron spread out to give them a clear field of fire between a pair of the enormous pounder cannon emplacements.