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ride into battle time after time in the same tank； come out alive when so many around him died； and
not feel some kind of special bond with her？ It was exactly the way van Droi felt about Foe…
Breaker。
73
His choice of replacement tank for Wulfe seemed to have backfired； though。 The rugged
sergeant hadn’t taken to Last Rites II at all。 In fact； he seemed to think van Droi had assigned him
the new tank out of spite。 Van Droi wanted to believe it was simply a matter of time； that Wulfe
would come around soon enough； but； with the ork host tailing them； time looked like it might be
up。 How fast were the ork machines chasing them？ There would be buggies in their hundreds。
Assault bikes； too； perhaps。 Might they even have air support？ Bombers？ Greenskins were certainly
insane enough to fly in such dangerous skies。
A red light began flickering on the vox…board by van Droi’s left shoulder。 He turned in his
command seat； flipped the toggle that turned the light green； and said； “10th Company Command
here。 Go ahead。”
“Tenth； this is Regiment；” said Colonel Stromm。 “It looks like we’re caught between a rock and
a hard place。 Have you looked south…east recently？”
“I have； sir；” said van Droi。 “Don’t like the view much。 Very difficult to estimate party strength
given distance and conditions； but I think it’s fair to say we’re a little outnumbered。 Assuming the
majority of those green…skins are on wheels； they could well catch us by midday。”
“The galaxy does like to stack the odds against us； doesn’t it； lieutenant？” said Stromm。
“No glory in easy victories； sir。 Still； a man should know his limits。”
“Or in this case；” replied Stromm； “the limits of his machines。 I think… Hold on a moment；
lieutenant。”
Stromm cut the link。 A few seconds later； the same light on van Droi’s vox…board started
flashing again。 He hit the toggle。 “Sir？”
“Sorry about that； van Droi；” said Stromm。 “Just got word from our scouts。 I’ll let you judge for
yourself whether it’s good or bad。 He’s reporting a massive dust storm up ahead。 Point your
magnoculars a few degrees east of our current heading。 You can just about make it out。”
“It’s going to hit？”
“Soon； apparently。 It’s moving fast。 If we cut south…east we can probably escape the worst of it；
but—”
“But it’ll put us within easy striking range of the orks at our back； sir。 By the blasted Eye！”
“You said it； lieutenant。 I’m not about to order our lads into a battle we won’t survive without a
damned good reason。 I say we head straight into the storm。 Take our chances。 If anything； it might
serve to cover our tracks。 We might actually lose the bastards。 What do you say？”
It’s a ballsy move； thought van Droi。 There’s plenty that could go wrong。 On the other hand…
“The machine…spirits aren’t going to like it； sir；” he said。 “I’d put money on mechanical failures。
Any estimates on how long the storm will last？ We won’t be able to see a damned thing while we’re
in there。 If we move at all； it’ll have to be very slowly。”
“There’s no way to say how long； van Droi；” voxed Stromm。 “The environmental summaries the
Mechanicus issued during warp transit painted a pretty bleak picture。 Some storms last a few hours；
others last days； even weeks。”
“That’s one hell of a gamble； sir。”
“Are you much of a gambling man； lieutenant？”
“I guess I am today；” said van Droi。
“That’s what I thought。 Let’s roll the dice and hope for the best。 And may the Emperor’s luck be
with us。 Stromm out。”
74
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Colonel Stromm ordered his column to a complete stop as it was hit by the fringes of the coming
dust storm。 Visibility had dropped to about fifty metres already。 The air around the Imperial
machines was dark with veils of gusting sand； and the wind howled； rocking the vehicles on their
suspension。 The sky was gone from view。 On the colonel’s orders； anxious men emerged from
hatches and cabin doors with their faces goggled and masked； their bodies covered as much as
possible against the stinging assault of the hard red grains。
Their voices didn’t travel far。 Words already muffled by rebreather masks were snatched away
by the rising storm。 Van Droi was forced to shout at the top of his voice。 “Hurry it up。 I want all the
tanks chained together before it gets any worse out here。 Come on。 Only a few minutes left。 Work
faster。”
The Gunheads hauled heavy steel chains from the stowage bins on the rear of each tank and
worked hard to attach them to the towing pegs at the front and back of their machines。
“Twenty metres between each tank；” shouted van Droi。 He wished he had a vox…amp handy。 The
bead he wore in his right ear linked him to his tank commanders； but the crews didn’t wear such
advanced tech。 They took their orders through their tanks’ intercom systems。 There was no time for
van Droi to return to Foe…Breaker and dig out a vox…amp now； though。 The winds were really
picking up。 The men worked quickly despite their thirst and fatigue。 Some struggled through bouts
of coughing that doubled them over in pain and discomfort； but they fought through it to get the job
done。 It was just as well they did。 In the few minutes it took to link all the tanks together； the storm
had become incredibly fierce。 Visibility dropped another ten metres。 Then another。 Then another。
Van Droi could only just make out the red silhouette of the tanks to the front and rear of his own。
The wind was buffeting him so hard that it almost pitched him from his feet as he reached up to
climb back into his turret。
After wrestling his way up Foe…Breaker’s back； he dropped down into her basket； slamming and
locking the hatch above him。 Hitting the intercom； he said； “Are we all buttoned up； lads？”
“Tighter than a governor’s daughter； sir；” said Waller。 He had been van Droi’s loader for more
than ten years； a compact； ruddy…faced man； good at his work； but a truculent devil when he had a
bit of drink in him。
“Right then；” said van Droi。 “We wait for Stromm’s lot to finish； then roll forward nice and
slow。”
Seated out of eyesight behind his crew； he allowed himself a small shake of the head。 This is a
bit of bloody madness； he thought。 If it weren’t for the orks at our backs…
“Van Droi to Colonel Stromm；” he voxed。 “Can you hear me； sir？”
“Not too well； van Droi；” said Stromm； “but go ahead。” The clarity of the transmission was
terrible。 The dust…storm had brought with it a shocking drop in the quality of short…range comms。 If
it got much worse； van Droi thought； they might lose comms altogether。 That would ground them
here completely until the storm passed。
“My crates are linked and ready。 Awaiting your order to move out； sir。”
“Hold on for another minute； van Droi。 The last of my lot are getting hooked together now。
Can’t believe how bad it is out there。 Throne help those poor lads in the soft…tops。 I hope the extra
tarps will be enough to protect them。”
75
Van Droi grimaced。 He was worried too。 It hadn’t been possible to squeeze everyone from the
open…backed trucks and halftracks into sealed cabins and the troop compartments of the Chimeras；
but they had done their best。 As few men as possible were left to endure the storm in the less
protected vehicles。 They had been given as much extra cover as was available to protect them； but
Van Droi had no idea just how much worse the storm was likely to get。
“I’m sure they’ll be all right； sir；” he said； managing to sound far more positive than he felt。
“One moment； lieutenant。”
There was a pause and a flicker of vox…board lights。 Then the colonel returned。 “The last of my
machines has been linked up； van Droi。 Have your tanks lead us out。 Keep the speed to a steady ten
kilometres per hour； no more； no less。”
“Ten it is； sir。 Giving the order now。”
“Very good； Armour。 Stromm； out。”
“You all ready for this？” van Droi asked his crew。
The half…hearted grunts that came back to him over the intercom spoke volumes about how his
crew felt riding blind。 There was no hiding their anxiety。
Van Droi flicked over to the company command channel and said； “Company Commander to all
tanks。 Confirm readiness to deploy。”
“Spear Leader confirms；” came the static…riddled response from Sergeant Rhaimes。
Spear One’s confirmation followed； then； Spear Two’s。 So it went until all eight of van Droi’s
surviving tank commanders had called in。
“Keep your crates absolutely steady at ten per hour。 Stay on this heading。 I don’t want any
accidents。 Cold Deliverance has point。 Corporal Muller； lead us out。”
One by one； the tanks of 10th Company started to edge forward blindly； tow chains giving out
metallic groans as they went taut。
The rumble of Foe…Breaker’s engine deepened； and she lurched forward gently as her gears
caught； feeding power to the massive axle that turned her drive sprocket。 The heavy； cog…like wheel
turned； iron teeth pulling link after link towards it； driving the tank forward slowly and steadily。 The
tank directly in front of Foe…Breaker — Corporal Fuchs’ Rage Imperius — was practically invisible
now。 Van Droi checked the rear vision blocks and found that the tank behind — Corporal Kurtz’s
The A