Chapter 487 - Far Future Ch. 197 - Some Friends Are Here to See You (1/2)

I was moving faster than they were expecting, and blowing the key parts of the factories open on enough of a delay to get me a minute or more of lead time before things went totally kablooey was enough time for me to be a mile or more away from the impact zone. Unless this whole shelling thing was tasked to obliterate a massive area, there was no way I was going to be caught in the area of effect... and if that was a danger, it would be obvious enough by the shelling stopping, and I would just book for even more distance at top speed, and see if they could predict me moving at a few hundred mph overland as they tried to catch me.

Then, of course, I'd piss them off by blowing up another branch of their bloody power circuit.

The incoming shells were eradicating the Runework that had been accumulating power, both freeing elements of it and sucking more of it away and up the rolling slopes towards whatever was going on up at the shielded spire top up there, the command and control center for this entire kiloplex of production.

The kids had gotten back to me in fairly short order, as strangely enough certain members of the command staff had relayed that similar things were going on all over the planet. The foreboding coming over everyone at this coordinated behavior certainly wasn't getting anyone's hopes up that this was a coincidence, as it smacked of some really dangerous shit going on that they couldn't possibly do anything about.

Then that 'misdirected' report of the evaluations and reality of Forgeworld Qim'bai were laid out for the command staff, who, despite their own rather disdainful attitudes for the lives of the men under their command, still had interesting expressions when they realized all the restrictions they were laboring under in terms of assault tools, and even this entire campaign to liberate the world itself, were all utterly pointless.

But something was going on. All the Fleet Assets that could be of use had been drawn off, now obvious as part of some coordinated plan, and there was nothing they could do to stop what was going on, except start unleashing some firepower of their own that they hadn't been using... and those assets were not in place, and had not been readied for use, since they weren't allowed on this battlefield.

It would time to get them ready and operational, and now, time was something they didn't have.

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Someone was following me.

I turned around, skating backwards and looking downslope as I ran along a short bridge.

There was a skimmer there, a stupid vehicle to be using in a warzone, not enough armor or weapons to serve as a vehicle of war, just a fast and speedy transport, designed for use behind the lines.

It was a few miles below and behind me, and I just caught the angle of it here as it moved up to wait for the shells flattening another section of the kiloplex, factories and buried habitats erupting under the shelling.

Full magnification leapt forwards, and I eyed the crew there.

A junior officer of the Tiger Legion... Crimson Tigers, by the paint, hulking up in the back. That was a guy in Mentat colors at the controls. A cybered-up Mekker was pretending to be useful in the copilot seat. In back was a guy with a long rifle and cyberspotter, scanning the surroundings as he held a long rifle ready. A dark-skinned fellow with a Coronal cloak was seated there, watching the shelling with a flat face, while a sour-faced man in Umbran black and grays sat opposite him. A short, trim man almost lost to the eye filled out the Inquiry team, and I found myself amused despite myself.

Well, they were never going to catch up if they just followed my trail...

I started shooting out impaled Mekkers and overseers who hadn't wanted to become slaves to the Warp, and vivic flames ignited down the sides of the road... away from the spotters overhead.

Hmm, I had better change my destination...

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”Sir!” Bemrin sat up and pointed. Everyone turned around, and looked in that direction.

A couple miles away and upslope, faint lights were barely flashing, leaving a trail of burning white fireflies behind.

They'd seen those lines of white lights, burning along the roads, reducing impaled and tortured dead to dust, turning the filth and runes of their sacrifices to ash and less. A mercy, a taunt? Whatever, it had been an easy trail to follow, and it had naturally run into and through the areas being pounded to rubble by the shelling.

”Kip!” Sir Mugamu shouted, and the skimmer was already wheeling and hurtling in that direction. Landscape maps plotted out an optimal route, trying to stay out of line of sight of the spotters up on the Spire ahead, having no desire to draw that bombardment back down upon themselves.

”A stroke of luck? An unwary trail?” Inquistor Hrom asked in disbelief.

”No,” Sergeant Kampi stated firmly. ”She started the trail where we could see it, not before, and it is all out of sight of the spotters, despite there being more targets she could shoot where they could be seen upspire.”

Techmeister Vahix couldn't really frown, but somehow managed to. ”She saw and is luring us in?” The towering Legionnaire nodded slightly. ”For what purpose?”

”She wants us to follow her more closely.” Sir Mugamu narrowed his eyes. ”So, she is leading us somewhere, and doesn't think we will catch her before then.”