And at first it appeared that this xarcus was spewing a thick cloud of black smoke in front of it as it made its way toward Qez. It was only after the defenders were able to get their long-range viz-scanners keyed in that they realized the awful truth: This dense “mist” was actually an army of Nakkz soldiers marching in front of the huge tank.
There had to be at least forty thousand of them, probably more. Some were on foot, others were riding in Bolts, dozens of them, flying about five feet off the surface. The foot soldiers were heavily armed with blaster rifles and electric swords and moving steadily in loose formations across the heavily cratered battlefield.
This xarcus was also of a slightly different, if no less dastardly design. Instead of a huge gun sticking out of its massive turret, this supertank was carrying an enormous semi-circular assembly held in place by two arms extending up on either side of the chassis. This assembly was studded with huge steel teeth so sharp, they were gleaming in the quick-moving sun.
It was a saw — a gigantic cutting device obviously conceived as a means to slash through even the highest, thickest walls. Like those surrounding Qez.
Once again, every person looking out at this second monster was astonished that the motley collection of pirates, mercenaries, and assorted star trash known as the Nakkz had the means and the know-how to possess not just one of these absolutely enormous machines but two!
Had the first xarcus been a diversion? Or half of a two-prong attack? It made little difference now. This second gigantic weapon was coming right at Qez — and this time there was no magic pellet on hand to hurl at it. The only defense left would come from the depleted guns of the outnumbered Home Guards and the Freedom Brigade. And while no one doubted the gallantry of these two groups, their numbers appeared puny in face of the huge tank and its forty-thousand-man army.
So Qez and its people had not been spared after all.
Their fate had simply been delayed.
The combat warning sirens began blaring throughout the city. As the Home Guards solidified their positions along the north wall, the troopers from the Freedom Brigade hurriedly loaded up what was left of their power ammo and rushed out of the city toward a massive set of trenchworks a half mile from Qez’s north gate, a position the brigade had previously designated Light Number One.
The Freedom Brigade had two captured Bolts at their disposal. This allowed them to lug two medium-power Z-gun artillery batteries out to this forward position. These guns had a range of about ten miles; soon enough they would be able to fire on the vanguard of the approaching army. The brigades’ infantry squads dug into positions along this trench, each man setting up his own gun station complete with blaster rifle and double-barreled ray guns. A special operations team from the brigade gathered together some high-incendiary devices and began moving swiftly in the direction of the oncoming army.
The big Z guns were put into place. Communications were established with the Home Guards back in Qez. The spirit among the mercenary group was high.
But not one man among them, or among the home defenders inside Qez, had any illusions about what would soon take place. None of these measures would do much good. Forty thousand enemy troops were heading their way. If the Freedom Brigade’s Z guns were able to kill even a thousand of them, that alone would be miraculous. And if the Home Guards were able to duplicate this effort, that, too, would be good.
But there was no way they were going to stop the oncoming juggernaut.
For both the brigade and the defenders of Qez, this would be their last stand.
The enemy was now about ten miles away.
Already the massive size of the xarcus was beginning to blot out the midday sun. The huge saw was slowly lifted high above the turret and began turning slowly. This thing was so massive, it would take some time for it to run up to full speed. Still, the noise made by its gigantic teeth began tearing across the smoky battlefield. It began as a low-pitched cry but quickly built up to a frightening high-pitched wail.
On a signal from their officers, the Freedom Brigade soldiers began blasting away in the direction of the onslaught. Even though they were still out of range, the columns of flames caused by each Z bolt kicked up huge amounts of dirt and debris, turning most of it into microscopic subatomic dust.
Still the huge army kept coming.
Now Z-gun fire started up from the walls of Qez itself. Again, most of it fell about half a mile short of the advancing army, but at the very least, it let the enemy know they would be making it as difficult as possible to overrun their city. Like the blasts coming from the Freedom Brigade’s position, this blaster fire kicked up enormous amounts of fire and dirt, igniting just about anything in its path. Soon a wall of flame was burning about nine miles out from the city — it temporarily blocked the view of the advancing enemy from the defenders. But then, after just a minute or so, several enemy Bolts popped through the fiery wall. They were followed by the advance guard of the foot soldiers; their bright green battlesuits apparently gave them adequate protection against the inferno.
Indeed, the enemy soldiers appeared to be walking right through the flames.
A gust of apprehension swept across the devastated plains now, blowing right over the heads of the dug-in Freedom Brigade and through the walls of Qez. The first Bolts were now but seven miles away from the brigade’s trench lines. Already their massive nose guns were letting loose enormous bursts of X-beam rays. These were so powerful, they actually flew over the mercenary lines and landed in the area behind the brigade and just before the walls of Qez.
The brigade let go another volley from their Z guns. Again a wall of fire was thrown up right on top of the lead elements of the advancing army. And this time the Z blasts found some marks — many soldiers in the first line of Nakkz went up in the distinctive blue flame of a direct Z-gun hit.
But still they kept coming. Those watching the action through their viz-sensors were appalled at the lack of camaraderie being shown by the enemy soldiers for their fallen comrades. Though a Z-gun blast usually resulted in the quick disintegration of its victims, some not hit directly could be severely wounded.
Yet the advancing army was marching right over these fallen souls, and in some cases pushing them farther down into the soft and bloody mud.
And this is where most of them would stay, mangled and dying until the gigantic xarcus came along and finished the job.
The advance units of the enemy were now within four miles of the brigade’s battle line.
The vanguard was being led by a dozen Bolts, their nose guns firing massive X beams more or less indiscriminately across the wide arc of the battlefield.
Behind them were the survivors of the enemy’s first wave, probably two thousand men in all. Between them was a small river, appropriately nicknamed Bloody Water by the defending troops. This river was barely flowing these days, clogged with the detritus of war — machines, expended weapons, bones. What had once been a twenty-two-foot-wide ribbon of sparkling water was now not much more than a ditch with a trickle running through it.
It was an important place nevertheless.
A five-man team of brigade sappers had stolen their way up to the stream and were planting Z charges in its shallow, putrid water. At this distance, the sound of the huge saw atop the xarcus’s turret was loud enough to cause the ears of these men to bleed. Still they went about their mission, setting down more than a hundred charge packs in all before quickly heading back toward their fragile lines.
Just moments later, the first wave of Bolts reached the opposite side of the bloody river’s bank. Seeing this through his long-range viz, the brigade’s gunnery officer gave his left-side artillery battery a signal.