Warsong (Hunter-Killer #2)

Chapter 05 - Ever-Watchful Eyes

The hot, dusty air of Rychter's badlands whipped at her face like a swarm of angry insects as the skiff hurtled along, powerful lifter engines snarling with the effort. Long and angular, the vehicle was a black blade of metal, open topped and carrying a cargo of twenty hardened, well-drilled Scout Cadre soldiers, some above deck and others hunkering down in its narrow armoured belly.

From the safety of a protective cupola at the prow, Master Sergeant Kaydie Brackenshaw surveyed the sands through her anti-armour rifle's powerful scope. A low twilight had descended on the badlands to the south of the town of Cresentscar, the orange-red glow of the twin suns still peering over the eastern horizon like the glare of a distant blaze. The five other skiffs of her unit trailed out behind in a staggered formation as they hurtled onward, skirting along the edge of what was considered by their commanders to be Scraegan-held territory.

At twenty-five years old, Kaydie was already a nine year veteran of the Scraegan war, having enlisted to join Brekka's famed Scout Cadre as soon as she was able to. Her swarthy skin was weather-beaten from so long spent in the badlands, and her dark hair was clipped short to just beneath her ears, barely visible beneath her blast helmet. A pair of goggles protected her grey eyes from the stinging winds, the glass reinforced and overlaid with a rudimentary HUD inside.

So far their tour through the badlands had been uneventful, but a niggle of unease remained in the back of her mind as the winds whipped past her. Their orders today went a lot further than a standard patrol. Today they were sweeping beyond the norm and laying the groundwork for the war.

Crescentscar was the furthest secure bastion south of Brekka, a town protected by its natural position in a canyon bed of solid rock. Protected from Scraegan digging by that base and with only two narrow modes of entry, it was easily defensible. But the safe staging area of Cresentscar was a long way behind them now. Soon they would cross that invisible line into Scraegan territory.

"Sarge?"

Kaydie eased her rifle from its notch in the lip of the cupola and swivelled to face the speaker. She found Corporal Hynan, a burly soldier with a thick goatee bristling around his mouth and a rifle resting casually across one shoulder. He threw a salute and a wiry grin around the smouldering stub of bacco jammed between his teeth.

"That time already?" She rose from her position, rolling her neck from side to side.

"You wanna stay out here, I won't argue with you, ma'am," Hynan replied.

"Not on your life, soldier." Kaydie eased past him, thumping the shoulder plate of his body-armour with a clenched fist. "We'll be crossing on your watch. Eyes open, eh? You know how I hate surprises."

He puffed smoke from the bacco-stub and saluted. "Yes, ma'am."

Kaydie gave him a nod and turned away, leaving her companion to settle into the cupola while she trudged the wind-scoured deck of the skiff. There was another one-man nest at the back of the vehicle, positioned behind a much larger twin-linked rail cannon that jutted out from the rear section. A second of those cannons rose from the middle of the armoured decking, manned by two soldiers – a spotter and gunner – to direct their deadly fire at a moment's notice.

Ducking her head against the wind and moving around behind the mid-ship gun, she descended through a narrow stairway into the guts of the skiff. White lights rebounded off of dark armour in the interior, and in the rear a sapphire glow emanated from an armoured compartment where the skiff's pilot maintained their course. The wind screeched outside.

In bunks lining the walls of the forward section off duty members of her platoon lounged, played cards and chatted, their long-barrelled anti-armour rifles never far from reach. Brackenshaw slung her own rifle across her shoulder and strode to the centre of the narrow compartment where a three dimensional display showed the immediate surroundings of the skiff flight.