"Brace for the impact."
Malcolm issued the stark warning while he shoved the steering yoke to its maximum forward position. He routed the final corrosive drops of the tainted diesel straight into the dying engine block.
The three billion dollar mobile fortress roared in agonizing protest. The Leviathan accelerated down the icy transit corridor toward the federal barricade.
Kira locked her hands around the bolted metal frame of the leather command chair. The cabin plunged into darkness as Malcolm diverted the internal life support and the automated turret reserves directly into the frontal plow blades. The only illumination came from the dull crimson flashing of the emergency console.
"Open fire," General Varga commanded over the intercepted radio frequency. "Core that metal box."
A do
