Ryke's cannon arm shook as he squeezed the trigger hard, turning to angle his shoulder shield to the ranks of the enemy. The Hunter-Killers exploded into motion, spreading out into a wide skirmish line as furnace cannon shots began screaming back and forth between the two Scraegan packs.
One glanced off his shield, sending heat alarms blaring, but he ignored them, stepping forward and setting his feet to give a proper firing platform.
"Weapons free, weapons free!" he roared. "Mark your targets! Combat groupings, on my lead!"
Fenix moved up beside him, her cannon thundering shots at the enemy line. He watched the other combat groups coalesce in quick battle order: Brigg formed up with Kim and Landis, Preese paired off with Erin, and Scantlin took up his place with Qadira. Then they were unlatching their shields and unsheathing warblades as they advanced into the melee.
He'd never actually seen Scraegan fight Scraegan, and witnessing it up close was a frightening thing. The two sides tore into each other with a savagery that spoke of something deep, and personal, like a family riven in two. Several of them took direct hits from furnace cannons, but seemed to shrug them off, their natural toughness and thick, heat-resistant armour withstanding the weapons.
Weapons designed to kill humans, he realised. The Scraegans preferred to kill each other the old fashioned way. He saw Grunn lower his head, plunging the spike of his helmet deep into the shoulder of one of the flame-furred enemies, while the leader of the enemy warband cracked its warband down hard across the skull of the first warrior it met. In an instant this little patch of the badlands was torn up, dust clogging the air, bellows and blasts filling his audio filters.
He tuned them out. A thousand questions swelled in his mind. Who were these newcomers? Why were they here? Who did they follow?
No time. No time to think.
Ryke turned the wild swing of a mace to one side with a shift of his shield. The Scraegan lurched forward, right into Fenix's path where she rammed her warblade into its stomach with a powerful punching motion. The beast reared back and butted her hard, its skull connecting hard with the reinforced crater of neck armour.
The armour held, but the impact sent Fenix stumbling backwards, a foul curse exploding over the comm.
Ryke twisted around and rattled off a spray of shots into the creature's legs, sending it crashing to the ground, before spinning back to catch a Scraegan's charge hard on his shoulder shield. A great, clawed gauntlet dug into the thick metal, and his mech's servos whined as he held his ground, levering the warrior backwards far enough so he could swing his blade.
The first swing bit into an armour plate. He let out a roar of effort, bunching his legs and pushing the Scraegan upwards and bringing the blade around in a horizontal arc that thudded under the warrior's armpit.
It's furnace cannon discharged at point-blank range. The blast missed him, the cannon being wedged off to one side by his shield, but it struck the ground barely a meter from his mech. The resulting blast almost knocked him flat, and he went stumbling with his warblade still lodged in the dying Scraegan.
Ryke felt a wrench of pain in his right leg. Gritting his teeth, he spun his body violently, wrenching the Hunter-Killer loose and sending the Scraegan warrior crashing to Rychter's blasted earth.
"Lockjaw?!"
"Combat effective," he snapped back, pivoting to plant his feet again as Fenix moved to cover him, more fire spraying from her cannon. The deep booms of Goliath shells sounded in the smoke and he saw their bright muzzle flashes. Scraegans rolled together in the dirt, tearing up deep rivets in the ground.
YOU ARE READING
Hellsky (Hunter-Killer #3)
Science FictionAfter decades of all out war between human and Scraegan, the planet Rychter has finally settled into an uneasy peace. Both sides can rebuild, lick their wounds, and for the first time try to coexist. But the war isn't over for everyone. Without the...