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With the toe of his boot, Tor nudged Yorunabi, who lay rolling and moaning on the deck. Then he gestured to his men. "Take these characters below... number one hold. Strap them in and watch 'em." He brought the MP-20 around to cover the pilot and deck officers. "You go, too. I'll take us up."
His men cleared the Combine men from the bridge, and Tor proceeded to check out the ship. There already were prisoners below — Trell soldiers who were being taken elsewhere for their technical expertise,. Among them was General Varney. Vamey and his Militiamen had agreed to join Tor's crew readily enough, once the plan was explained to them.
Then Tor was able to sit down again at the familiar console, letting his hands run across the instruments. Everything was set and ready, the hydrogen tanks topped off, the fusion pile hot and ru
They'd not come aboard a moment too soon. He pulled out his hand transceiver and clicked it on to another little-used frequency. "Ready... ready... ready," he said.
Then Tor sat back to wait.
28
As Grayson entered the Vehicle Bay, the insistent clamor of the Castle's general alarm began its raucous shrilling. Men and women broke into trotting runs this way and that, NCOs and warrants bellowed orders, and a squad of black-uniformed Combine infantry began forming up on the ground outside the hugh double doors. His first thought of seizing a hovercraft in the Bay and making off with it into the near darkness outside wasn't going to work. He'd be burned down before he got 50 meters.
They'd be rounding up the Trells next. Grayson looked down at his green dress uniform and grimaced. The only thing to do was to stop being a Trell. He made his way back into the Castle's heart, moving through familiar passageways in the general direction of the Repair Bay. What he needed was to find... ha!
A solitary Draconis soldier was hurrying toward him down the hallway, his laser rifle slung behind his shoulder. The man paid no attention to the Trell Green Coat who stood aside with proper deference to let him past, but seemed bent on hurrying up the passageway toward the Vehicle Bay. Grayson's foot swept out and caught the soldier across the shins as he trotted past, and the man went down in a clatter of rifle and cumbersome backpack power unit.
The soldier came to his knees with a snarled, "You clumsy bastard..."
Then Grayson's foot caught him just below the point of his chin, his head snapped back, and he clattered to the floor once more, his anger scattered into darkness. Grayson felt for a pulse, but found none. He hadn't intended to kill the man, but his own fear and anger had charged that kick to the man's throat. The soldier's neck appeared to be broken.
He dragged the soldier into an adjoining room, a small storage area for office forms and clerical supplies. Working swiftly, he stripped off the man's uniform and replaced it with his own, struggling to shrug the heavy power pack onto his shoulders and get the straps adjusted securely. As a final touch, he crouched beside a metal shelving case stacked with ream upon ream of requisition and supply forms and tipped it over across the soldier's body on the floor. There was a ringing crash, then a silence broken by the rustle of skittering papers. That should at least cause a bit of confusion if the trooper's body was found. Any delay at all would win him a few precious, extra minutes.
Next he checked his laser. It was a Marx XX Starbeam, a Combine model he knew from weapons texts but not by personal experience. Still, it shouldn't be too difficult to figure out. Beam intensity would be controlled there. Power on by pulling down the handle on the backpack. A grip safety under his hand. It looked as though he could work it. Checking both directions before he stepped out of the storeroom, Grayson then moved at a trot toward the Repair Bay.
The Shadow Hawkwas there, standing upright on the repair platform.
The 55-ton 'Mech dominated the cavernous Bay, a vast, humanoid shape of gray and rust-streaked metal and faded paint surrounded by the metal scaffolding that had been raised around it.
Grayson appraised the 'Mech with expert eyes. From the look of things, they'd been remounting its backpack and autoca
The Shadow Hawkwas a 'Mech of older design, and had a transparent canopy much like that of an atmospheric aircraft. Console screens gave the pilot a full range of IR through UV vision. In practice, however, the pilot generally relied on his eyes rather than the 'Mech's optical sensors, with a holographic heads-up display to project targeting information and combat intelligence above the console. The canopy was open now, and Grayson could see someone — possibly the pilot or a Tech ru
Though the alarm was silent, troops were forming up on the Repair Bay deck, with officers pointing and yelling orders. They had gathered a milling herd of green-coated Trells at gunpoint into a far corner of the room. The round-up had begun.
Grayson thought fast. The Bay doors were open, but with all those soldiers lined up near the opening, he'd be stopped or shot down before he got very far. His eyes travelled back to the Shadow Hawk.He had piloted that 'Mech several times during his training. It had been Lieutenant Hauptman's machine, and Grayson could still make out the name "Hauptman" in faded script across the leading edge of the 'Mech's left foot He had spent a good many hours piloting Hawksin the simulator, too. If he could get into the 'Mech's cockpit, he would have a good chance of escaping.
There were several potential problems, however. The 'Mech might not be as combat ready as it looked. Worse, the neural impulse helmet could have been set for the parameters of another pilot, and would have to be quickly reset if he was to have complete control. The only way to find out was by sitting in the cockpit lumself.
Perhaps the biggest dilemma was one of tactics. Once Grayson started climbing the ladder up the side of the scaffolding, some NCO or Combine officer was certain to see him. Without some kind of diversion, he would never make it higher than the Shadow Hawk'sknee joint.
* * * *
Lori set her jaw and shifted frequencies. "All units, I have the signal. Let's move!"
The Locustlurched forward, its flat-clawed feet grappling for purchase on the sandy bank as it scrambled to the top. On either side of her, the Waspand the Stingercrawled out of the wadi and stood upright. On both flanks, the hovercraft weapons carriers hummed into life on the rim of the arroyo where the Wasphad carefully set them moments before. Then they began drifting toward the spaceport on eddying clouds of dust
"Just a fast raid," Lori reminded her command. "In and out No duels! Let's see if we caught them napping!"
They had maneuvered through the wadi to within three kilometers of the spaceport, which left a long, open firelane through which the various machines had to move. The 'Mechs thundered forward at their top speeds, which quickly put the Locustwell into the lead. Dust raised by their charge and by the fans of the hovercraft swirled and billowed to create a screening cloud.