The twelve mining lasers missed.
The underground hall filled with thick white smoke.
Dozens of glowing trenches had been carved into the titanium-steel floor, their edges still hissing with sparks.
Crouching behind the Taurus armored carrier, Rufus rubbed what remained of one singed eyebrow.
His hand trembled.
“That was close.” “So damn close.” “If it’d been any closer, I’d never have had to repay my debts.” No one paid him any attention.
The two Hellions had already burst beyond the Heavy Factory’s defensive line.
One sped left.
The other right.
They hugged the ruined walls of the chamber, their low-profile frames racing through the smoke while twin blue exhaust trails streaked behind them.
The mining convoy’s first synchronized volley had completely missed.
Its laser turrets were still overheating.
Coolant lines lay exposed across the tops of the vehicles like rows of freshly opened wounds.
Leon Drake watched the tactical display without the slightest hint of panic.
“Hellions.” “Don’t get too close.” “Keep them chasing.” One of the Hellion drivers laughed over the comms.
“How far do you want us to drag them, Commander?” Leon studied the smoking convoy ahead.
“As far as they’ll follow.” “And don’t kill them too quickly.” “I want them to tear their own formation apart.” Both Hellions veered sharply.
The left Hellion skimmed past a row of abandoned ore haulers.
Its rear swung wide, sending a sheet of blue plasma fire across the hybrid escorts beside the mining vehicles.
Several cultists replacing damaged coolant pipes were engulfed instantly, burning alongside the machinery they were trying to repair.
The Hellion on the right was even bolder.
Instead of charging directly toward the mining vehicles, it circled halfway around the outermost laser drilling rig.
Its hull passed so close to the spinning cutting wheel that sparks showered across its armor.
Inside the mining vehicle’s cockpit, several miners who had been welded permanently into their control stations convulsed violently.
The Primus forced a command through their fused neural conduits.
The enormous machine immediately swerved.
Its massive tracks crushed the floor as it lurched after the speeding Hellion.
The moment it turned…
The vehicle behind it had to turn as well.
Then the next.
Then the next.
Moments ago, all twelve mining vehicles had formed an unbroken wall of steel.
Now…
That wall was beginning to bend.
Exactly what Leon wanted.
A head-on collision would overwhelm the Heavy Factory.
But if these hundreds-of-tons monsters started turning…
They would block one another.
Compete for space.
Trap each other’s firing arcs.
Helena began to understand.
Standing behind the bunker line with her bolt pistol lowered, she followed the Hellions with narrowed eyes.
“They’re forcing the enemy vehicles to alter course.” Leon never looked back.
“That sounds too formal.” “We call it walking the dog.” Helena paused.
“That term does not exist in Imperial Arbites tactical doctrine.” “It does now.” Behind them, Rufus muttered quietly.
“I think it fits.” Helena shot him a glance.
Rufus immediately shut his mouth.
The left Hellion darted around a collapsed support pillar.
One demolition-hammer mining vehicle followed too aggressively.
Boom!
Its front slammed directly into the pillar’s reinforced base.
The entire hall shook.
The pillar held.
The industrial hammer didn’t.
Its massive head became wedged inside twisted rebar.
The vehicle attempted to reverse.
Too late.
The cutting vehicle behind it rolled straight into its rear.
The two giants collided.
Their crawler tracks locked together with a shriek of tortured metal.
Leon raised a hand.
“Marines.” “Take out the repair crews.” The four Marines immediately shifted their aim.
Their gauss rifles no longer targeted the vehicles themselves.
Instead, every shot picked off the hybrid cultists rushing forward to repair the damaged machines.
One cultist had just reconnected a coolant line.
His head exploded.
A three-armed Aberrant tried prying loose the jammed demolition hammer with hydraulic cutters.
Five gauss rounds punched through its chest.
Its corpse collapsed onto the tracks and disappeared beneath the grinding treads.
The mining vehicle continued struggling.
Without anyone left to repair it…
It only became more hopelessly trapped.
Leon glanced at the red status marker flashing across his HUD.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“First one.” “Put it on the books.” Target marked.
Status: Severely immobilized.
Estimated post-battle recovery value: 120 to 150 Crystal Minerals.
Rufus’ eyes nearly bulged out of his skull.
“That wreck…” “Is worth that much?” Leon glanced sideways at him.
“How exactly did you people make money before this?” Rufus chuckled awkwardly.
“We usually robbed people.” “Not vehicles.” “No wonder you’re poor.” Rufus wisely chose not to respond.
The Primus finally realized something was wrong.
Standing atop the lead vehicle, it slammed all four fists onto the firing controls.
Hive commands surged through the corrupted neural network like hooks, forcibly dragging the disorganized convoy back under control.
Several mining vehicles in the rear slowed, attempting to reform their firing line.
Even more cultists crawled from beneath the machines.
They raised heavy mining shields and sprinted toward the advancing Hellions.
They weren’t fearless.
They simply no longer possessed the right to fear.
One cultist burned until half his body had turned black.
Even so, he dragged himself forward on one leg, trying to attach a magnetic demolition charge beneath a Hellion’s wheels.
The Hellion on the right slammed on the brakes.
Its rear jets erupted.
The entire vehicle drifted sideways three meters.
The explosive attached to nothing but empty air.
A heartbeat later…
Blue fire swept backward.
The cultist and the two escorts behind him vanished inside the flames.
The Hellion pilot cursed over the comms.
“Commander.” “These lunatics keep throwing themselves under the wheels.” “They’re a pain.” “Good.” Leon never took his eyes off the Primus.
“That means it’s panicking.” It truly was.
The mining convoy’s greatest advantage lay in its overwhelming mass and synchronized firepower.
Once the Hellions dragged it into constant turning maneuvers…
It became nothing more than a herd of lumbering steel turtles.
Too slow to catch the Hellions.
Too cumbersome to bring their guns to bear.
Unable to stop without crashing into one another.
Mining Guild equipment had never been designed for mobile warfare.
It excelled at crushing through solid rock.
Not chasing high-speed StarCraft combat vehicles built specifically for harassment.
This wasn’t a matter of courage.
It was a matter of engineering.
Watching the two Hellions weave effortlessly through the enemy formation, Helena felt every armored warfare doctrine she had ever learned begin falling apart.
In every Imperial battlefield she knew…
Armor fought armor through thicker plating.
Bigger guns.
Relentless frontal assaults.
The stronger vehicle survived.
But Leon Drake refused to compete that way.
He used lighter vehicles to manipulate heavier ones.
He forced the enemy to waste firing opportunities.
Waste turning time.
Waste the lives of corrupted cultists.
“This…” Helena murmured.
“This isn’t Imperial armored warfare.” Leon heard her.
“How does Imperial armored warfare work?” “Armored spearheads advance.” “Infantry follows.” “Artillery suppresses.” “And then?” “We crush the enemy beneath steel and faith.” Leon watched one mining vehicle crash directly into another.
He slowly shook his head.
“Forget faith for a minute.” “Steel isn’t always better because it’s heavier.” He pointed toward the flanks.
“If your steel can be led around by the nose…” “Then every extra ton just makes it that much dumber.” Ada calmly added, Tactical assessment: Crude, but accurate.
Leon chuckled.
“You’re handing out compliments today?” This was not intended as praise.
Across the chamber…
The left Hellion suddenly found itself cornered.
Three mining vehicles converged from different directions.
A collapsed storage rack blocked the front.
Broken ore-cart rails blocked the rear.
Hybrid escorts carrying reinforced shields closed in from both sides.
Rufus’ voice changed instantly.
“Commander!” “That vehicle’s trapped!” Leon remained perfectly calm.
“This…” “Is exactly what I wanted.” The left Hellion didn’t try forcing its way through.
Instead…
It braked hard.
Sliding alongside the collapsed shelves, it blasted fire backward, forcing the pursuing escorts to retreat.
The lead mining vehicle thought it had finally caught its prey.
Its turret began rotating downward.
But just as the barrel aligned…
The demolition-hammer vehicle behind it slammed into its rear.
The gap between the two machines was too narrow.
The laser cannon smashed directly into the armor of the vehicle ahead.
Crunch.
The turret locked solid.
The Hellion shot through the narrow gap between them.
Rufus’ jaw nearly hit the floor.
“It…” “It actually squeezed through?” Leon answered flatly.
“Yep.” “The dogs are too fat to bite.” For just a moment…
The corner of Helena’s mouth twitched.
As though she wanted to correct his terminology.
In the end…
She decided against it.
The Primus let out another shrill scream.
This time…
It stopped chasing the Hellions.
It changed targets.
The surviving laser-cutting vehicles rotated together.
Their guns no longer pointed toward the Hellions.
Nor the Goliaths.
Every barrel locked onto the Heavy Factory behind Leon.
Helena’s expression changed instantly.
“My lord!” “They’re targeting the factory!” Leon’s eyes grew cold.
The Primus wasn’t stupid.
It had realized the Hellions were bait.
It knew it could never catch them.
So it simply stopped trying.
Instead…
It aimed for the one thing Leon couldn’t afford to lose.
The Heavy Factory.
Seven operational laser-cutting vehicles began repositioning.
Their barrels slowly elevated.
Blue-white light condensed inside each cannon once more.
Ada reported calmly.
Remaining operational laser-cutting vehicles: Seven.
High-energy output increasing.
Estimated synchronized firing sequence: Ten seconds.
Rufus no longer had the strength to curse.
He had seen the devastation left by the first volley.
Seven shots weren’t as terrifying as twelve…
But if they struck the Heavy Factory’s core…
They would still burn straight through the outer armor.
Leon stared at the charging barrels.
This time…
There was nowhere to dodge.
The Heavy Factory couldn’t move.
The SCV could repair damage…
But even it couldn’t simply stand there and absorb seven mining lasers head-on.
“Hellions.” “Keep dragging them.” “Don’t come back.” “Marines.” “Suppress the escorts.” “Firebats.” “Hold the line.” “Goliaths.” All three Goliaths pivoted simultaneously.
Their mechanical legs locked into the floor.
Armor plates across their backs folded open one after another.
A Goliath pilot spoke over the comms, unable to hide his excitement.
“Commander.” “Those targets are glowing brighter than practice-range bullseyes.” Leon didn’t waste another word.
“Missile matrix.” “Remove all launch restrictions.” “Lock every charging coil.” Command confirmed.
Hellfire missile matrix assigning targets.
Priority sequence: Turret pivots.
Cooling vents.
Coolant pipelines.
Charging coils.
The Primus seemed to sense the danger.
It turned sharply toward the three walkers that had been holding back their full firepower.
Unlike Imperial Dreadnoughts…
The Goliaths bore no religious ornamentation.
No holy icons.
No sacred inscriptions.
No ancient battle chants.
They simply stood there.
Cold.
Silent.
Weapons platforms with legs.
Their missile pods opened completely.
Rows of stubby Hellfire missiles slid into firing position.
Orange exhaust flames flickered to life.
Inside one cockpit…
The pilot spat out his chewing gum.
“Listen closely.” “You’re about to hear something beautiful.” Leon fixed his gaze upon the seven charging mining vehicles.
“Fire.” The next instant…
The blazing exhaust of dozens of missiles illuminated the entire underground hall.