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heavy snow. The

viking's legs cut through the mess as if it wasn't there, but the movement felt sluggish.

Erik had operated only civilian walkers before, using them to help unload the cargo

from his transport every now and then. That was probably another reason why Varg had

sought him for the job. Not many pilots had any experience in a walker, even if it was just

one of the stomping forklifts he'd tooled around in the distribution center.

He didn't know enough about military walkers to tel whether the machine's movement

was normal. Did its gait feel off due to the nature of the viking, or might it have something

to do with the weather? At this point, he supposed it didn't matter much. Either way, he'd

have to put up with it and account for it.

Once he emerged from the mess that he and the others had churned up around the

landing zone, Erik stopped to survey the landscape. A chain of snow-capped mountains was

huddled off to what the heads-up display on his screen told him was the west. Or maybe

they were mountains of snow. He couldn't tell from this distance. 12

Icy plains yawned to the north and south, wind sending curls of white powder winding

and cutting through the air. Nothing obstructed Erik's view all the way to the darkened

horizons but storm clouds scudding about in the distance, lightning strikes flashing across

them, pregnant with thundersnow.

The sky lightened to the east as the sun's first rays strove to break through the

incessant cloud cover. They il uminated a long ridge that stretched for klicks in either

direction, forming a sheer, crystal ine cliff that had to be hundreds of meters high. Under

other circumstances, the vista would have stunned Erik with its stark beauty. Instead, the

sight of a zerg infestation burrowing through the cliff threatened to turn his stomach.

Erik's time with the Dominion military had been spent fighting other terrans, mostly

rebels. He'd fol owed the struggle elsewhere against the zerg and the protoss through UNN

broadcasts, but he'd never been ordered into battle against any aliens. He had seen dead

zerg before but never a live one, not outside of a recording. Most people who did weren't

fortunate enough to survive the experience.

The way the bugs squirmed along the cliff's ledges, abruptly disappearing and

reappearing through a series of holes that had been eaten or dril ed into them, reminded

him of a termite infestation he'd seen as a kid. The termites had demolished the

infrastructure of the house his family lived in. The exterminator told them the place was

too far gone to be saved. The only thing to do was to have their home destroyed.

Erik wondered whether Braxis had reached that point of no return. He didn't know how

much it would take to remove the zerg from the planet, but if they had infiltrated it as they

had already riddled the cliff, he couldn't imagine that anything less than orbital

bombardment would dislodge them.

"What the hell are we doing here?" Erik said.

"Kil ing the bad guys," Varg said. "First chance we get." 13

Erik checked his rear-view camera and saw that everyone else had emerged from the

landing zone. Could the ice their vikings stood on handle this much weight? A viking might

be able to fly, but when it walked on the ground, it made a deep impression. If they were on

top of a frozen sea, Erik could envision breaking through the crust of ice and disappearing

into the black waters below.

"Let's march out." Varg began trudging forward through the snow. He kicked up a haze

as he went. Erik and the others fel in line behind him fast, and as a group they soon

managed to cause visibility in the area to drop to only a few meters.

"What's the plan from here?" Erik said. Maybe he should have just waited for Varg to

start barking out orders, but he needed to know what he'd gotten himself into.

The major grumbled. Erik had a hard time making out the back of the man's armor

through the snow, and Varg strode only a few steps ahead of him.

"We're meant to provide a distraction," Varg said. "Our job is to keep these bugs

occupied until Command gets the rest of our forces in line—or decides to turn tail and run

along with the civilians."

"They're using us as bait." Baleog gave Varg an approving grunt. "Drop us down on the

far side of the zerg infestation and use us to draw their forces away from the settlements."

"Right," Varg said. "We don't have to take the bugs out. We just have to pul their

attention away long enough for our people to escape."

"What about us?" Olaf said.

Erik hated the big man for asking the question. He'd wanted to ask it himself, but he

feared the answer. Would it real y be better to know?

"How about it, Varg?" Baleog said. "Do we constitute acceptable losses?" 14

"Damn right you do. We al do. What's more important: a wing of vikings or every other

terran on the planet?"

As long as "every other terran" included Kyrie and Sif, Erik knew how he'd answer that.

They trudged on in silence, their vikings carrying them closer and closer toward the icy

cliff. Even though Erik could no longer see it through the snow whirling around them, he

knew it was there, and he dreaded every step forward. Stil , he didn't let that stop him from

marching on.

"Halt!" Varg said, raising one of his viking's Gatling cannons to make sure he had

everyone's attention.

Erik and the others stopped in their tracks. The snow they'd kicked up settled down,

swirling to the ground. The viking's climate-control system kept Erik's windshield clear,

and he could soon see al the way to the ridge again. It sat much closer this time.

Varg gestured at the ridge with a Gatling cannon. Zerg drones squirmed in and out of

countless tunnels in the icy face, parts of which had been coated with creep, a substance

that reminded Erik of a spider's webbing. It covered much of the ridge, turning the

sparkling white surface a filthy gray.

Things that Erik didn't recognize hung in the air over the ridge, scooting back and forth

like flying jel yfish.

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