Warsong (Hunter-Killer #2)

Chapter 36 - Predators

Ten days proved to be optimistic.

One week was all the time that Ryke and the other Dreadnought pilots had to acclimatise to their new Hunter-Killers. Their callsigns were added in thick, bold type beneath the armoured heads of the machines and the bare metal exteriors were given a fresh coat of warpaint, lathered in matte black. They looked like shadow demons; dark avatars of war that would bring retribution down on the creatures that menaced Rychter's wastes.

The new squadron was christened with a name befitting the brutal task they would be performing.

HK-Predator.

The experience and skill of the pilots shone through, vindicating each and every one of Colonel De Lunta's selections. Even in the brief time they'd had to get used to each other their cohesion was clear, their combat training performance more than enough to satisfy their commanding officers. The Dreadnoughts were different, but they were still killing machines – something that each pilot was deeply acquainted with.

Ryke still couldn't deny a sense of nervousness about throwing the Dreadnoughts into combat so quickly. Training could only accomplish so much, and it would have been a huge weight off his shoulders to try the machines out in actual combat before the main deployment.

But it wasn't to be. They were going in. Hackley, Kelso, Llewellyn and the rest had finalised their details with the Scraegan Alpha as best they could, meaning that for the first time Scraegan and human forces would deploy together, on the same side.

The thought made his stomach knot with anxiety as he walked with Thaye towards the main Hunter-Killer hangar on the base. Having a mutual enemy was one thing, but he could only guess at how well this hastily formed alliance would withstand actual combat. They'd had enough trouble getting the humans from Brekka and the North to get along, never mind an entirely different species.

"Yeah, I think it's weird too," Thaye muttered, hands in pockets as she strode alongside him. "But I guess we don't have a lot of choices, do we?"

He gave her a dubious look. "I didn't say anything."

"Your face did." She shrugged, smirking. "Who wouldn't be nervy about relying on the Scraegans?"

"I just don't know what to expect."

"At least we'll have the best seats in the house. Let's just focus on getting through this in one piece."

"Yeah." Ryke nodded, feeling a low ache throbbing along the line of his metal jaw. The uncomfortable sensation of fear crept up his spine.

Don't die.

Ivy words hung heavy like an anvil around his neck. He wanted with every piece of himself to promise that to her, but he just couldn't. He knew he couldn't. She knew it too. He wasn't afraid of getting killed, not really. Being a Hunter-Killer pilot meant you couldn't be, but now he was afraid of what he might leave behind. Of what it might do to Ivy if he didn't come back from this.

"Hey." Thaye gave him a light shove, dragging his attention to her again. She looked at him earnestly. "Just like any other mission, okay, sarge? We've always gotten through it, you and me, side by side. Is really all that different?"

Ryke considered that. "I guess not. Just heavier toys."

"Exactly. And we've got De Lunta calling the shots, not some wet-skinned bureaucrat trying to tell us how to fight. We can do this." A dangerous smile played on the corners of her mouth. "Who knows, maybe someone'll even write a song about it."

"Now wouldn't that be something," he chuckled.

They stuck to the carefully outlined paths on the hangar concourse as vehicles trundled by; groups of armoured supply trucks, armoured infantry carriers and tank columns. The air was thick with engine fumes and hot, making sweat bead on his cheeks.