There was a brilliant fl?ash of light, followed by a resounding boom, as the charge went off and Noo was vaporized. Less than half the force generated by the explosion was directed up and into the cyborg’s belly, but it was suffi?cient to burn a hole through the relatively thin armor, and send a jet of superheated gases into the compartment above. That triggered a series of secondary explosions, which not only killed the twelve Seebos seated in the cargo bay but ripped Xiong apart. Santana swore, and attempted to contact the cyborg via the company push, but there was no answer, as what remained of the legionnaire toppled onto one of Bravo Company’s T-2s, thereby raising the death toll to fi?fteen. However, there was no time to stop and grieve as the rest of the allied line continued to surge forward. Colonel Six had grown somewhat used to the violent rocking motion by that time, and could be seen at the very front of the allied army, shouting encouragement to every unit he passed. This came as something of a surprise from an offi?cer better known for his cutting criticisms than unreserved praise. The allied formation had cleared no-man’s-land by that time, and was well within Ramanthian lines, which had broken before the onslaught. Santana, who was busy guarding General-453’s right fl?ank, saw what was taking place and urged Alpha Company forward. “Run the bastards down!” he shouted. “Remember Xiong!”
There were shouts of “Camerone!” and “Blood!” as the Hu- dathan legionnaires uttered their traditional war cry. Then they were through to the Ramanthian rear lines, where the enemy tanks and artillery pieces were trapped in their own revetments, as the alien soldiers continued to pull back into the devastated city of Yal-Am.
Rather than remain where he was, and die an ignominious death at the hands of the animals, one of the tank commanders sent his beetle-shaped Gantha straight at Deker and Santana. The cavalry offi?cer saw a fl?ash of light as the big 120mm gun went off, followed by a potentially deafening boom, as the big shell roared past him. Then the T-2 was in the air! Metal clanged on metal as Deker landed on the Gantha’s lower deck. Santana looked up to see that the helmeted tank commander was trying to bring a heavy machine gun to bear on the threat below him. Santana brought his CA-10 up, pulled the trigger, and felt a sinking sensation when nothing happened! The goddamned piece of crap had frozen up!
The machine gun continued to swing around as Santana worked the action, brought the weapon up for a second time, and pulled the trigger again. The Ramanthian’s head jerked backwards as two of the slugs smashed through his face shield, pulped his brains, and blew what was left out through the back of his fi?ber-composite helmet.
“Good one, sir!” Deker said approvingly, as he began to climb higher. “Got any grenades?”
“Two,” Santana replied, fumbling for them.
“That should do it,” Deker said cheerfully, as he arrived next to the turret. “But mind the chit, sir. . . . He’s in the way!”
The two of them were so close that Santana was able to reach out, grab the dead Ramanthian’s harness, and pull him to one side. That opened a hole large enough to accept both grenades. They were still falling into the compartment below, when Deker took to the air, hoping to put as much distance between himself and the Gantha as he could. The ensuing explosion lifted the turret off the top of the tank, sent a gout of fl?ames into the air, and produced a wave of hot air that washed around both legionnaires. Deker made a perfect landing, absorbed most of the impact with his mechanical knees, and was about to reenter the fray when a frantic call was heard.
“Alpha Six! This is Bravo Three-Three! The general is missing! I can’t fi?nd him anywhere. Over.”
“What?” Santana demanded, incredulously. “What do you mean you can’t fi?nd him? He was strapped to your back!
Over.”
“I mean the bastard bailed out,” Shaley answered angrily.
“And I can’t fi?nd him. Over.”
“Alpha Six to Alpha Company,” Santana said. “Form on me! Alpha One-Four will provide security while we search for the general. Execute. Out.”
Meanwhile, as the surviving members of Alpha Company gathered to look for the allied commander, General Akoto was deep beneath the city of Yal-Am, preparing to deliver the Kiyo—the killing stroke. Because everything, including the retreat up over Tow-Tok Pass, and the way the ongoing battle was being fought had been leading up to this: the moment when the allies would enter the killing ground and give themselves over to the fi?nal slaughter. Thanks to massive incompetence on the part of their military leaders, the process had taken much longer than anticipated, thereby extending the amount of time available for the purpose of conquering Earth. Thus, the most important aspect of Akoto’s mission had already been accomplished.
The general was too old for active service in the minds of many, as was apparent from the age spots on his chitin, and the many maladies for which the doctors were treating him. But there was nothing wrong with his mind, which was sword bright, and as keen as a thrice-honed blade. This was why he knew that, even as a seemingly unstoppable juggernaut rolled toward the depopulated city of Yal-Am, a unique opportunity lay before him. Rather than simply stalling the allies, as the old warrior had originally been ordered to do, it was his intention to defeat them! More than that, to drive the degenerates back into space—where others could deal with them.
The navy would have to do its part, of course. But the hypercom call had been sent, and even as Akoto’s servant strapped his sword to the old warrior’s back, a battle group was emerging from hyperspace. Soon, within a matter of hours, all of the allied warships presently in orbit around Gamma-014 would be fi?ghting for their lives. While that battle took place, Akoto, plus ten thousand heavily armed Ramanthian regulars, were going to pour up out of the natural caverns located below the city of Yal-Am and consume the fi?ve thousand allied troops presently rushing to their deaths. Because exhausted from the battle just fought—the badly outnumbered humans would be easy meat. And Akoto was known for a hearty appetite. The warrior took pleasure in his joke—and that was the moment when the real battle began.
Because the Ramanthians had been swept from the fi?eld of battle, Alpha Company was pretty much on its own, as the legionnaires completed the third, and what would have to be fi?nal, search for General-453. Or, failing that, what remained of his body. But there was no sign of the offi?cer so far, and Santana was just about to wrap up the effort, when a voice came over the division push—a rarely used com channel that was reserved for extreme emergencies since it had the effect of smothering communications at the battalion, company, and platoon level. “This is General-453,” the voice proclaimed. “I was held prisoner until fi?fteen minutes ago. . . . The man who led the assault is a renegade who calls himself Colonel Six. Seize the imposter and place him under arrest! I will arrive in Yal-Am shortly. Out.”
The announcement was like a bolt out of the blue. It seemed that the Seebo who had reformulated allied strategy, and led the successful assault against the Ramanthians, had been none other than the clone Santana had been ordered to track down! Knowing that his impersonation would have to end, he had taken his leave just short of the fi?nal goal. That was shocking enough, but what took place over the next few minutes was even more so. It began with a sudden fl?urry of confused radio traffi?c, soon followed by frantic calls for help, and a storm of gunfi?re. Santana ordered his unit forward, but hadn’t traveled more than a hundred feet when Kobbi came over the regimental push. His voice was calm but urgent. “It was a trap! Thousands of Ramanthians were hiding underground. The 1st REC will fall back toward the west. Bravo Company, 1st Battalion, will escort the wounded. Alpha Company, 2nd Battalion, will provide covering fi?re—”