Chapter 44 - Volley Fire
- Location
- Ottawa
- Pronouns
- She/Her/Whatever
Not our guns, not the low hum and thump of the gravitic howitzers, not the whip-crack of the flying guns. These were the report of chemical guns, black powder.
I shot up from my bed, snatching my sword, a crash behind me as my battery was pulled on its wire off the mattress frame. I tugged it free of my neck and emerged into the predawn darkness, seeing the lights of machine's eyes coming on as soldiers picked themselves up off the ground.
"What the bloody hell is happening!" I called, and at that moment I saw a gunner running up the hill, hand on his shako, calling to us.
"Cuddlebugs behind the ridge! They're coming in to attack the cave from the west!" he shouted, stumbling on the loose dirt as he approached. Lieutenant Kennedy emerged from the tent beside me, shuffling her jacket on, Milly emerging from the tent opposite and immediately coming over to fuss with the buttons.
"How the hell did they sneak up on us?" she said, "Milly, get my glass, damnit, I can do my own buttons!"
"They're behind the ridge on the west, they went around us the long way! Shadowed by the hill and a berm." the gunner explained, coming to a halt in front of us and shrugging his carbine back on his shoulder. "Didn't see them until the guns opened up."
Of course not. Our pickets were set up to try and stop stalkers from coming to us, not to stop some suicidal, idiotic locals from making a run at the cave.
"Get on a horse and tell them to fucking stop." I snapped, turning to Kennedy. "It's now or never, we have to go. They're going to find us either way."
"Yes. We'll get the battery down the hill, go before the bugs get killed." she said, as Milly came to her side with her telescope and pistol. Miriam emerged a moment later, my jacket strung over her shoulder.
"Take a second to get dressed at least, miss.' she said, and I reached to take the hanger before I realized that what was on it was not the red coat of the private I'd been wearing, but my coat. My officer's coat, crossbelt, and sash. My expensive boots, white britches, the bicorn with its red plumb.
"... thank you." I said, taking it reverently and stepping into the tent. "But what about-"
"Your machines should know who's leading them, miss." Miriam said simply, laying out my boots. "And I don't think you'd want to go in with anything else."
I dressed quickly with her aid, the boots feeling snug on my feet, the uniform right, the sword and pistol at my side. I had no idea what I was to face, but by God, I felt I could face it dressed like this. Miriam took a second to adjust my epaulette and nodded, approval in her eyes.
"Miriam…. Corporal, if the battle turns against us today, you take the support crew and you run back to the city, you understand?" I said, and she laughed.
"With respect, miss, I'm going to be waiting here with a music player and a rag to get the blood out of your uniform, and I won't be moving until you get back." she said firmly, gesturing to the pistol at her hip. "It's my job."
Unable to think of a response to that, I nodded, pulled on my gloves, and stepped for the tent flap.
"Though if things do go poorly…" Miriam began, taking a second to centre herself, "Working for you has been the worst job of my entire life. I've never had less to do, and every day is frustrating. And I would gladly do it again."
"Well…" I started, "You're the worst aide I've ever had, and I don't know what I'd do without you. So we're even."
With that, I stepped out and made my way to the gun posts, where Lieutenant Kennedy was standing with a cluster of gunners around one of the ammunition wagons. As I approached, I saw our final transmutative shell, its casing open and wires spilling from it, what I swore was a pocketwatch at the centre of it all.
"That's it, then?" I asked.
"That's it. When you want it to go, you pull this tab." she said, indicating with a finger. "Then you run, you'll have two minutes. Stash it somewhere they'll have trouble getting at."
"That enough time to get clear?" I asked, and she winced.
"If you go fast? I don't want to cut it any longer or they'll be sure to stop it." she said. She indicated to her gunners, and the device was carefully lowered into what looked like somebody's backpack, and she handed it to me. "Here you go. Don't drop it."
"... it won't go off, will it?" I asked. It ought not, but I didn't know what she'd done to it.
"Oh, no, it just might break it. It's a bit… shit." she said, sighing. "Dora, be careful."
"I will." I said. "You too."
There was a tension in the air, and I imagined, just for a second, what this moment would have looked like had I made different choices. How much harder it would have been. How much more it would have meant. The absence of those feelings, the void where a connection was supposed to be, were almost more painful.
"... After this is over, we should talk." I said, "I have some things to… if you like."
She smiled sadly, reaching into her pocket for her targeting monocle and stepping away to her guns.
"We'll see. Good luck, Dora."
I hefted the bag and walked away, sitting in a haze of confused feelings. I let them linger a little, turning them over in my head before chasing them away; I ought to be focused. I would have to process this later.
There we were, thirty-seven machines, all we could get working, and two officers with their swords standing by. Their uniforms were in a sorry state, many with holes through them, burn marks, some reduced to rags barely clinging to their bodies. Said bodies weren't doing much better, with pitted armour, mismatched limbs, a section of Frankenstein's monsters stitched together from the dead. Theda was standing slightly unevenly, an unfamiliar silver leg stuck in a mismatched shoe, and another machine was entirely missing her faceplate, just two eyes above raw machinery and the armoured core of her skull.
They stood in two perfect lines, awaiting inspection, and I walked the line quickly, looking them over. Finding no fault.
"Corporal Rifleman, glad to see you joining us." I said. He raised his hand in salute, and I noticed it was a crudely wrought iron hook, just enough to keep a laser musket reasonable steady.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, ma'am." he said. "Don't know how much use I'll be, but I'll be damned if I sit it out."
"Tell you what. I need somebody to lug this thing around, might as well be you, right?" I said, carefully dropping the backpack with the bomb at his feet. "You be careful with it, you hear?"
"Of course, ma'am." he said, clearly touched, and I moved on down the line.
"Private, you sure you're ready?"
The Dora was the one who I'd last scene with a hole through her chest. She was still wearing that uniform, but I could see that she'd taken a piece of steel from somewhere, maybe the downed flying gun, and was wearing it over her chest like a knight's breastplate, chained in place.
"Absolutely, ma'am." she responded crispy.
I reached the end of the line where Old Theo and Theda were waiting, turned, pretended to contemplate it a moment. This was a moment where there ought to be a speech, I knew there ought to be a speech. Human officers literally hired rhetoric coaches to practice their speeches, studied the speeches of antiquity, and made an art of it. The one Captain Harrison gave before we fought at Fomalhaut was etched into my memory. I'd read books on the subject, when I was younger, fantasizing about this moment.
"I thought, when I received my commission, that I had been given the greatest honour of my life. I realize now that was in error." I said, "Because that honour was commanding this section..."
God, that sounded so trite. It might have been inspiring coming from one of those trained in the proper rhetoric, but that wasn't me. It wasn't right.
"... you're the best machines I've ever known, and I couldn't ask for better representatives of Britain, of the whole damn Concert, to have fallen through time and space with me. I'd go on, but we're on the clock, so let's just kill the bastards and get this over with!"
The laughter that broke out there, genuine laughter as the tension of the moment broke, that's what we needed.
We took off down the hill at double time, dust in our wake as we pounded down the hill, as the rings of the planet above us started glowing brighter in anticipation of the sun reaching the horizon. The crash of cannons rolled against through the valley, small pops of red flame against the cliffs as shells went off, purple and blue lights swirling as the enemy moved.
For doing an incredibly stupid thing, the cuddlebugs were at least being cautious: they had set up a position at the crest of the hill to our west, just inside the range of their guns, and started shelling the cave entrance. A pre-dawn bombardment, because they were presumably planning on a dawn assault, just like we were, but they knew enough to try and soften the enemy first, to use the hill for cover so they could unleash a reverse-slope ambush on the enemy if they tried to dislodge the gun. Not that it would do anything, it was still suicidal, but where the politicians who had ordered the cuddlebugs into position were idiots and brutes, at least their commanders seemed shrewd enough.
We paused at the edge of the path leading into the valley, the ensigns and NPCs clustering around me as I checked the scene over with my spyglass. It looked like the stalkers were fanning out from the cave entrance, forming a firing line in anticipation, and a cold fear gripped me as I counted perhaps a hundred of them. The cuddlebugs, from what I could see, must have numbered in the thousands, two or three regiments by the count we'd use.
"Why aren't the stalkers firing? Surely with guns like that they could sweep them from the ridge?" Sumner asked, and I was about to respond when Kelly beat me to it.
"They're waiting for the cuddlebugs to push in, so they can fire at close range and keep firing as they run." he said grimly. "Bastards."
"I really should probably be more cautious with my language around you two." I said, sweeping the scope across the alien lines once more. As I watched, a solid cannonball bounced perfectly in front of the stalker line and struck one of them perfectly in the face, cracking its head backward and sending it sprawling. It crawled back to its feet a moment later, wounded but clearly not dead. "Oh, they're fucked."
"We need to get stuck in." Theda said, likewise watching through her rifle's scope. "The sooner the better. Before the cuddlebugs move."
"If we just charge them, they'll massacre us. That's a four hundred meter charge over open ground, and they outnumber us." I said. "Sergeant Theo, thoughts?"
"If we could get them moving, we would have more room ourselves." he said thoughtfully, tapping a thumb to his chin. "Push straight north from our position here and work our way down the edge of the mountain. They'll have to wheel about to put fire on us, and Lieutenant Kennedy can put enfilading fire right down their flank. We'll have them wrapped up nice with a bow and everything like that, I think."
"Hell, that's good." I said.
"We did it at Port Nowhere and they didn't much care for it, call it a classic." he said with a shrug. "Course, we did that in vacuum gear and with chemical cannons. But there's a reason it never goes out of style, ma'am."
I was struck for a moment picturing Old Theo as he would have been then, two hundred years past, in the uniforms from the paintings. Those fancy frock coats with the black shoulders, lined with pockets of magazines stuffed with caseless ammunition for their mechanical muskets. Must have been something.
"It's good. Let's go, we're going to have to make good time." I said, clicking my wireless on. "Kennedy, we're going to be pressing down the right flank as far as we can and seeing if we can't get them to show you their flank. Stay quiet until we do?"
"Got it." she replied, voice crackling. "Go fast. Our runner just got back from the cuddlebugs, they aren't stopping."
"Stupid bloody bastards." I muttered. Presumably the South Hunters had sent word to the regiments up here to get stuck in and be important so… so something. They could get the credit with their bosses back home or something. I felt an irrational but, I think, entirely reasonable regret that I'd not gone with storming the palace when we could, though had we we'd probably be in an even worse position. "The clock is ticking. Go!"
We raced across the valley as best we could, taking advantage of a dip in the ground that let us make quick time along the flank. The sun began to climb above the horizon as we did, rays flooding between mountain peaks like flowing water, the valley slowly lighting up. The rumble of the cannons was intensifying, the dull crump of shells and the whistling of solid shot as we ran in a low crouch.
"Contact front!" one of the machines ahead of me shouted, then there was a purple flash and they collapsed into the ditch. The machine behind them stepped over without hesitation, musket going to his shoulder, snapping a shot at a foe I couldn't see. Skirmishers in the ditch, slowing us down. They must have spotted us and sent this lot to slow us down while their line…
I peaked my head over the edge of the ditch, and sure enough they were wheeling around. The joy I felt at that was tempered when, beyond them, I saw the hills to the west shifting, shapes moving along the rim. The cuddlebugs had seen it too, and they were getting ready to charge.
"Fuck! Help!" voices from the front of the group drew my attention back, and I decided to brave climbing the edge of the ditch to get a good look at our foe. Our soldiers had run into a dozen of theirs, some behind a rock at the edge of the dip and the others blocking the narrow confines the ditch with blades and barrels. One of our soldiers was on the ground, a stalker looming over them, the others firing down the ditch, daring us to rush into a killing zone.
I raced forward, plasma tearing through the air where I'd been just moments earlier, sliding down into the ditch behind the ones slowing us. One of the stalkers whirled on me and I kicked it as hard as I could into the rocks opposite before drawing my pistol and splattering its meagre brains across the landscape at close range.
"Forward, bayonets on! Come on!" I called, drawing my sword and clicking it to the brightest green I could. "Forward!"
Another stalker threw the barrel of its weapon toward me, and I dropped my pistol to grab it and push it skyward, the blast discharging with a ripple of my shield as I drove my sword through its middle. Ahead of me, my machines rushed the gap, the first staggering under a blinding purple blast, while the stalker I'd run through pulled a blade from the belt around its waist, rearing back to stab it through me. I mashed my forearm into its face and shoulder, trying to prevent it from getting leverage, and it collapsed to the ground dragging me with it, the knife flailing useless as I dragged my sword down its torso and along its thigh. The sound of the superheated energy blade breaking its carapace was a scream, like steam escaping a kettle, but it wouldn't die.
"Get off me, you stupid fucking-" the machine struggling on the ground near me screamed, the sound of his metal fist smashing into its carapace echoing. I tore my blade free and smashed the pommel into its open wound before pulling away, just in time to see the poor Theo get a knife driven through its eye and go limp. In desperate anger, I swept my blade across the stalker, its head rolling into the dirt, and its body actually turned and shambled a half-step forward before collapsing into the dirt.
I had no time to contemplate the fallen machine, though, because at that moment there was a flash of light and heat against my screens, the stalkers in the rocks above firing down at me. I tried to throw myself out of the line of fire, but it was just back next to the stalker I'd been fighting, and to my horror it grasped at me, the knife still held firmly in its hand despite the trail of blue organs it was dragging along the ground to get at me.
"Will you just fucking die!" I shouted, grabbing its wrist and forcing it back, pressing my sword edge-first through its chest until it had sank halfway-in, its other claw grasping at my face. I pulled the sword free along its cutting edge, sinking the rest of the way through its body, and finally it twitched to a stop in a spray of viscera. Finally, I pulled myself free, fishing my pistol up from the ground and wiping the blood from my eyes with my sleeve.
When I turned around, there was already a press of machines moving past me, Theda in the lead, rushing the stalkers at the rock with bayonets blazing. A shot connected with Theda's shoulder and deflected in a spray of ionized gas, then her own gun went off and took the crest off the shooter's skull, and she pulled herself over the collapsing body into its fellows, laughing like a maniac. Kelly was at my side a moment later, waving the remaining troops forward with his sword glowing green.
"Good lad." I said, voice pained as I pulled myself up. "Keep your head down, though."
"You alright?" he asked, offering a hand to help me up uselessly.
"I'm fine." I said, pushing myself to the edge of the ditch and looking up. The stalkers had formed a long line, two deep, straight out of our playbook, and were advancing on our position. This loose sandstone would offer little cover when they started shooting, if they all were on target. "Oh hell, there really are a lot of them…"
Even as I said it, there was a yellow flash across the field, and one of the flying guns from the clifftop tore through down the length of the line, spraying molten dirt skyward. Wherever the beam touched, stalkers burst apart like overripe fruit, the pieces of their exoskeleton spraying as shrapnel for dozens of meters. Moments later, the first real shells burst among their line, the charge in the heart of each shell explosively converting its reactive core into expanding plasma and a shockwave. A sheet of thick, dark dust hung in the air, pieces of blasted rock raining down and buzzing off our shields.
"Yes!" Kelly called, grinning wildly as he pumped a fist skyward. "We got 'em!"
"Down! Get down!" I shouted, grabbing his arm and pulling him below the lip of the ditch. "Section! Form at the edge of the ditch, weapons at maximum power!"
Theda's group emerged from behind the rock dripping with gore and dropped into position, weapons pointing outward, and Theda fell in beside me, her eyes dancing mischievously. Beside her rifle she had one of the alien weapons, one of those smouldering hatchets, and it was absolutely coated in ichor.
"This guy and his buddy both picked the wrong fight. They're tough bastards, huh." she mumbled, buzzing with excited energy. "I should have transferred years ago, you Brits get in some fun scraps."
"Theda, when Rifleman moves with the bomb, I want you covering him, okay?" I said, "With the rifle if you can, but get your body in the way if you need to. Just keep it safe."
"Of course, ma'am. How you holding up?" she asked, adjusting something on her scope. Out at the field, a second barrage, this one fired blind, slammed down like thunder, spraying more dust in the air.
"Just wonderful. Already got three." I said, knowing that would needle her. She nodded, clearly impressed.
"... show-off. I'll make it up in the shooting here, though."
I glanced at my pistol, feeling suddenly inadequate. After a moment's hesitation, I stashed it, turned around, and grabbed the musket from the fallen Theo behind me, staring lights-out at the sky with a smoking hole in his eye. The blade was thin… if he was lucky, it might have only partially damaged one of his processors, they could bring him back, mostly. If he was lucky.
"Hang on, friend." I whispered to his corpse, dropping back into position and pushing the weapon over the lip of the ditch. "Sumner! Where are you!"
"Here!" I heard her call, somewhere back down the line. Still with Corporal Rifleman. I sighted down the holographic sight, staring at the dark shapes in the swirling dirt with anticipation.
"What are the cuddlebugs up to, can you see them?"
"Yes! They're moving-"
She didn't get further than that, because at that moment the silhouettes in the dust resolved as stalkers, at least fifty, pressing through the dust as one, their feet moving in a perfectly coordinated march, weapons held forward. At least as many of them as there were us. To my right, Theda's rifle tonked, and one of them twitched as the needle passed through it, carving a hole through its shoulder in a blue spray, but its footfalls didn't even waver.
"Verdammte Außerirdische! Bastarde!" I heard her mutter, pulling the bolt open and fetching another bolt. "I'm out of exploding tips, the solids are just passing straight through them. This would be easier if they had bigger brains to shoot."
"What do you have left?" I asked, curious.
"Three poison, two acid, five EMP that'll do fuck all, and about two dozen solid shot. Plus stunners, if you're feeling merciful."
"Do your best." I said. "Hold, Theos and Doras! Let them get close, pick your targets carefully!"
Theda lined up, leaning against the scope as she steadied, and this time one of the stalkers suddenly convulsed as she fired, like something hot had fallen down its collar, before dropping to the floor, limbs spasming madly.
"Urgh. Think I lobotomized that one." Theda said, chuckling. "Sorry, friend!"
Christ.
The stalkers paused, the first rank kneeling, and I knew that if they shot, it would throw us off. It had to be now.
"Fire!" I called, the ensigns and NCOs echoing it instantly, and every gun in the light burst with light and smoke as the volley went out. The enemy was instantly obscured by the smoke, and I pulled back from the lip of the ditch just in time for their volley to crash down all around us, spraying dirt and rock up. I watched the lock of my gun, mentally counting down the seconds as I lined back up at the ridge, and the moment the light turned red I called for the next volley, squeezing the trigger at the same time, firing at the shape of one of the stalkers.
Again, their volley followed just a second later. The air was now so thick with dust and coolant we were firing entirely blindly, just flashes of light into the storm. Sometimes one part of their line would shoot and the purple flashes would cast their shadows against the cloud, and I'd aim at the centre of one for my next volley and shoot there when I could, five or ten seconds later. The coolant of my gun ran dry and I tore the flask from the fallen soldier's belt to recharge it, and then I had to discard a cooling rod which was so overheated it curled as I pulled it free, bending instantly as I threw it into the dirt ahead of us.
Over the din, I could just hear Sumner directing the fire of the rotary cannons, sweeping up and down the line systematically. Beside Theda, the machine next to her was stuck at the crown of her skull, and her friends desperately pulled her back by her crossbelts, calling for the trauma mechanic as they took her place. Thomas raced up the line, dropping next to her as she grasped for his coat and babbled desperately, spraying her skull down with cooling foam and trying to calm the poor machine down.
I forced myself over the lip of the ditch, sighted again at nothing, and fired. The laser flashed and I dropped back, the Dora on the floor now deactivated for her own safety, Thomas already racing further up to another injured machine. Theda, unable to see anything through her scope, was just screaming uselessly over the edge of the trench, snatching up the fallen machine's musket and firing blindly as she hurled epithets and threats.
In my ear, I could hear my radio buzzing, but the fire, the dust, the discharging plasma, it had turned whatever was being said into a wash of static.
The lock of my musket turned red, and I lined up and squeezed the trigger. Instead of the flash I was expecting, there was a spark and a loud pop, the sound of a crystal shattering from overheating and the discharging energies shattering the dozens of lenses along the barrel. With a roar of frustration I threw the useless weapon out into the field like a javelin and pulled my pistol, slamming a fist against the dirt.
"Come and get us, you fucking bastards!" I called, and Theda laughed.
"Yeah, come get us, ihr schwanzlosen Feiglinge!" she called, and something about that threw me.
"... dickless cowards?" I asked.
"It's true. I mean, look at them. They don't wear clothes. They reproduce with clones. They're categorically dickless." she said, shrugging.
"Yeah, but so are we. What does that have to do with anything?" I pointed out.
"Yeah, but… they're… sort of masculine, so it's like… Oh, one second." The light on her musket had turned red, and she snapped a shot off over the edge of the ditch.
"So are half our boxies, and like… they probably don't have dicks either." I pointed out. "And it's a bit, I dunno…"
"It's also not great for blokes with received genders, you know?" Kelly pointed out from beside me, pressed as far into the dirt as he could get to avoid the storm of fire.
"Thank you, Horace."
"Yeah. Okay, look, the coward part was really the operative thing." she said, offering me her stolen musket. "You want it?"
"You're probably a better shot." I said, and she nodded, the lock turning red again, and leaned up. This time, a purple blast blew the top of her hat off, and she pivoted instantly to the source and fired. Somewhere distantly, over the din, I heard a very satisfying crunch as her target's exoskeleton blew apart.
"Look, the point is, they're right fuckers is all." she said. "And they should have charged us, they might have overwhelmed us."
"Yeah… hold a tick. Are they still shooting?" I asked. Theda glanced over the edge of the ditch again, and gave a noncommittal jerk of her head. "Alright. Cease fire! Cease!"
The guns around me fell silent, and then the farther ones as the call was echoed. It didn't seem like we were being shot at anymore, no more purple beams overhead, no more shapes in the dust.
But we could still hear shooting, still see flashes. Small flashes of red, purple flashes in return, somewhere deep in the smoke.
We could hear the pop of blackpowder musketry, drowned by the roar of plasma guns.
We could hear screaming.
I shot up from my bed, snatching my sword, a crash behind me as my battery was pulled on its wire off the mattress frame. I tugged it free of my neck and emerged into the predawn darkness, seeing the lights of machine's eyes coming on as soldiers picked themselves up off the ground.
"What the bloody hell is happening!" I called, and at that moment I saw a gunner running up the hill, hand on his shako, calling to us.
"Cuddlebugs behind the ridge! They're coming in to attack the cave from the west!" he shouted, stumbling on the loose dirt as he approached. Lieutenant Kennedy emerged from the tent beside me, shuffling her jacket on, Milly emerging from the tent opposite and immediately coming over to fuss with the buttons.
"How the hell did they sneak up on us?" she said, "Milly, get my glass, damnit, I can do my own buttons!"
"They're behind the ridge on the west, they went around us the long way! Shadowed by the hill and a berm." the gunner explained, coming to a halt in front of us and shrugging his carbine back on his shoulder. "Didn't see them until the guns opened up."
Of course not. Our pickets were set up to try and stop stalkers from coming to us, not to stop some suicidal, idiotic locals from making a run at the cave.
"Get on a horse and tell them to fucking stop." I snapped, turning to Kennedy. "It's now or never, we have to go. They're going to find us either way."
"Yes. We'll get the battery down the hill, go before the bugs get killed." she said, as Milly came to her side with her telescope and pistol. Miriam emerged a moment later, my jacket strung over her shoulder.
"Take a second to get dressed at least, miss.' she said, and I reached to take the hanger before I realized that what was on it was not the red coat of the private I'd been wearing, but my coat. My officer's coat, crossbelt, and sash. My expensive boots, white britches, the bicorn with its red plumb.
"... thank you." I said, taking it reverently and stepping into the tent. "But what about-"
"Your machines should know who's leading them, miss." Miriam said simply, laying out my boots. "And I don't think you'd want to go in with anything else."
I dressed quickly with her aid, the boots feeling snug on my feet, the uniform right, the sword and pistol at my side. I had no idea what I was to face, but by God, I felt I could face it dressed like this. Miriam took a second to adjust my epaulette and nodded, approval in her eyes.
"Miriam…. Corporal, if the battle turns against us today, you take the support crew and you run back to the city, you understand?" I said, and she laughed.
"With respect, miss, I'm going to be waiting here with a music player and a rag to get the blood out of your uniform, and I won't be moving until you get back." she said firmly, gesturing to the pistol at her hip. "It's my job."
Unable to think of a response to that, I nodded, pulled on my gloves, and stepped for the tent flap.
"Though if things do go poorly…" Miriam began, taking a second to centre herself, "Working for you has been the worst job of my entire life. I've never had less to do, and every day is frustrating. And I would gladly do it again."
"Well…" I started, "You're the worst aide I've ever had, and I don't know what I'd do without you. So we're even."
With that, I stepped out and made my way to the gun posts, where Lieutenant Kennedy was standing with a cluster of gunners around one of the ammunition wagons. As I approached, I saw our final transmutative shell, its casing open and wires spilling from it, what I swore was a pocketwatch at the centre of it all.
"That's it, then?" I asked.
"That's it. When you want it to go, you pull this tab." she said, indicating with a finger. "Then you run, you'll have two minutes. Stash it somewhere they'll have trouble getting at."
"That enough time to get clear?" I asked, and she winced.
"If you go fast? I don't want to cut it any longer or they'll be sure to stop it." she said. She indicated to her gunners, and the device was carefully lowered into what looked like somebody's backpack, and she handed it to me. "Here you go. Don't drop it."
"... it won't go off, will it?" I asked. It ought not, but I didn't know what she'd done to it.
"Oh, no, it just might break it. It's a bit… shit." she said, sighing. "Dora, be careful."
"I will." I said. "You too."
There was a tension in the air, and I imagined, just for a second, what this moment would have looked like had I made different choices. How much harder it would have been. How much more it would have meant. The absence of those feelings, the void where a connection was supposed to be, were almost more painful.
"... After this is over, we should talk." I said, "I have some things to… if you like."
She smiled sadly, reaching into her pocket for her targeting monocle and stepping away to her guns.
"We'll see. Good luck, Dora."
I hefted the bag and walked away, sitting in a haze of confused feelings. I let them linger a little, turning them over in my head before chasing them away; I ought to be focused. I would have to process this later.
There we were, thirty-seven machines, all we could get working, and two officers with their swords standing by. Their uniforms were in a sorry state, many with holes through them, burn marks, some reduced to rags barely clinging to their bodies. Said bodies weren't doing much better, with pitted armour, mismatched limbs, a section of Frankenstein's monsters stitched together from the dead. Theda was standing slightly unevenly, an unfamiliar silver leg stuck in a mismatched shoe, and another machine was entirely missing her faceplate, just two eyes above raw machinery and the armoured core of her skull.
They stood in two perfect lines, awaiting inspection, and I walked the line quickly, looking them over. Finding no fault.
"Corporal Rifleman, glad to see you joining us." I said. He raised his hand in salute, and I noticed it was a crudely wrought iron hook, just enough to keep a laser musket reasonable steady.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, ma'am." he said. "Don't know how much use I'll be, but I'll be damned if I sit it out."
"Tell you what. I need somebody to lug this thing around, might as well be you, right?" I said, carefully dropping the backpack with the bomb at his feet. "You be careful with it, you hear?"
"Of course, ma'am." he said, clearly touched, and I moved on down the line.
"Private, you sure you're ready?"
The Dora was the one who I'd last scene with a hole through her chest. She was still wearing that uniform, but I could see that she'd taken a piece of steel from somewhere, maybe the downed flying gun, and was wearing it over her chest like a knight's breastplate, chained in place.
"Absolutely, ma'am." she responded crispy.
I reached the end of the line where Old Theo and Theda were waiting, turned, pretended to contemplate it a moment. This was a moment where there ought to be a speech, I knew there ought to be a speech. Human officers literally hired rhetoric coaches to practice their speeches, studied the speeches of antiquity, and made an art of it. The one Captain Harrison gave before we fought at Fomalhaut was etched into my memory. I'd read books on the subject, when I was younger, fantasizing about this moment.
"I thought, when I received my commission, that I had been given the greatest honour of my life. I realize now that was in error." I said, "Because that honour was commanding this section..."
God, that sounded so trite. It might have been inspiring coming from one of those trained in the proper rhetoric, but that wasn't me. It wasn't right.
"... you're the best machines I've ever known, and I couldn't ask for better representatives of Britain, of the whole damn Concert, to have fallen through time and space with me. I'd go on, but we're on the clock, so let's just kill the bastards and get this over with!"
The laughter that broke out there, genuine laughter as the tension of the moment broke, that's what we needed.
We took off down the hill at double time, dust in our wake as we pounded down the hill, as the rings of the planet above us started glowing brighter in anticipation of the sun reaching the horizon. The crash of cannons rolled against through the valley, small pops of red flame against the cliffs as shells went off, purple and blue lights swirling as the enemy moved.
For doing an incredibly stupid thing, the cuddlebugs were at least being cautious: they had set up a position at the crest of the hill to our west, just inside the range of their guns, and started shelling the cave entrance. A pre-dawn bombardment, because they were presumably planning on a dawn assault, just like we were, but they knew enough to try and soften the enemy first, to use the hill for cover so they could unleash a reverse-slope ambush on the enemy if they tried to dislodge the gun. Not that it would do anything, it was still suicidal, but where the politicians who had ordered the cuddlebugs into position were idiots and brutes, at least their commanders seemed shrewd enough.
We paused at the edge of the path leading into the valley, the ensigns and NPCs clustering around me as I checked the scene over with my spyglass. It looked like the stalkers were fanning out from the cave entrance, forming a firing line in anticipation, and a cold fear gripped me as I counted perhaps a hundred of them. The cuddlebugs, from what I could see, must have numbered in the thousands, two or three regiments by the count we'd use.
"Why aren't the stalkers firing? Surely with guns like that they could sweep them from the ridge?" Sumner asked, and I was about to respond when Kelly beat me to it.
"They're waiting for the cuddlebugs to push in, so they can fire at close range and keep firing as they run." he said grimly. "Bastards."
"I really should probably be more cautious with my language around you two." I said, sweeping the scope across the alien lines once more. As I watched, a solid cannonball bounced perfectly in front of the stalker line and struck one of them perfectly in the face, cracking its head backward and sending it sprawling. It crawled back to its feet a moment later, wounded but clearly not dead. "Oh, they're fucked."
"We need to get stuck in." Theda said, likewise watching through her rifle's scope. "The sooner the better. Before the cuddlebugs move."
"If we just charge them, they'll massacre us. That's a four hundred meter charge over open ground, and they outnumber us." I said. "Sergeant Theo, thoughts?"
"If we could get them moving, we would have more room ourselves." he said thoughtfully, tapping a thumb to his chin. "Push straight north from our position here and work our way down the edge of the mountain. They'll have to wheel about to put fire on us, and Lieutenant Kennedy can put enfilading fire right down their flank. We'll have them wrapped up nice with a bow and everything like that, I think."
"Hell, that's good." I said.
"We did it at Port Nowhere and they didn't much care for it, call it a classic." he said with a shrug. "Course, we did that in vacuum gear and with chemical cannons. But there's a reason it never goes out of style, ma'am."
I was struck for a moment picturing Old Theo as he would have been then, two hundred years past, in the uniforms from the paintings. Those fancy frock coats with the black shoulders, lined with pockets of magazines stuffed with caseless ammunition for their mechanical muskets. Must have been something.
"It's good. Let's go, we're going to have to make good time." I said, clicking my wireless on. "Kennedy, we're going to be pressing down the right flank as far as we can and seeing if we can't get them to show you their flank. Stay quiet until we do?"
"Got it." she replied, voice crackling. "Go fast. Our runner just got back from the cuddlebugs, they aren't stopping."
"Stupid bloody bastards." I muttered. Presumably the South Hunters had sent word to the regiments up here to get stuck in and be important so… so something. They could get the credit with their bosses back home or something. I felt an irrational but, I think, entirely reasonable regret that I'd not gone with storming the palace when we could, though had we we'd probably be in an even worse position. "The clock is ticking. Go!"
We raced across the valley as best we could, taking advantage of a dip in the ground that let us make quick time along the flank. The sun began to climb above the horizon as we did, rays flooding between mountain peaks like flowing water, the valley slowly lighting up. The rumble of the cannons was intensifying, the dull crump of shells and the whistling of solid shot as we ran in a low crouch.
"Contact front!" one of the machines ahead of me shouted, then there was a purple flash and they collapsed into the ditch. The machine behind them stepped over without hesitation, musket going to his shoulder, snapping a shot at a foe I couldn't see. Skirmishers in the ditch, slowing us down. They must have spotted us and sent this lot to slow us down while their line…
I peaked my head over the edge of the ditch, and sure enough they were wheeling around. The joy I felt at that was tempered when, beyond them, I saw the hills to the west shifting, shapes moving along the rim. The cuddlebugs had seen it too, and they were getting ready to charge.
"Fuck! Help!" voices from the front of the group drew my attention back, and I decided to brave climbing the edge of the ditch to get a good look at our foe. Our soldiers had run into a dozen of theirs, some behind a rock at the edge of the dip and the others blocking the narrow confines the ditch with blades and barrels. One of our soldiers was on the ground, a stalker looming over them, the others firing down the ditch, daring us to rush into a killing zone.
I raced forward, plasma tearing through the air where I'd been just moments earlier, sliding down into the ditch behind the ones slowing us. One of the stalkers whirled on me and I kicked it as hard as I could into the rocks opposite before drawing my pistol and splattering its meagre brains across the landscape at close range.
"Forward, bayonets on! Come on!" I called, drawing my sword and clicking it to the brightest green I could. "Forward!"
Another stalker threw the barrel of its weapon toward me, and I dropped my pistol to grab it and push it skyward, the blast discharging with a ripple of my shield as I drove my sword through its middle. Ahead of me, my machines rushed the gap, the first staggering under a blinding purple blast, while the stalker I'd run through pulled a blade from the belt around its waist, rearing back to stab it through me. I mashed my forearm into its face and shoulder, trying to prevent it from getting leverage, and it collapsed to the ground dragging me with it, the knife flailing useless as I dragged my sword down its torso and along its thigh. The sound of the superheated energy blade breaking its carapace was a scream, like steam escaping a kettle, but it wouldn't die.
"Get off me, you stupid fucking-" the machine struggling on the ground near me screamed, the sound of his metal fist smashing into its carapace echoing. I tore my blade free and smashed the pommel into its open wound before pulling away, just in time to see the poor Theo get a knife driven through its eye and go limp. In desperate anger, I swept my blade across the stalker, its head rolling into the dirt, and its body actually turned and shambled a half-step forward before collapsing into the dirt.
I had no time to contemplate the fallen machine, though, because at that moment there was a flash of light and heat against my screens, the stalkers in the rocks above firing down at me. I tried to throw myself out of the line of fire, but it was just back next to the stalker I'd been fighting, and to my horror it grasped at me, the knife still held firmly in its hand despite the trail of blue organs it was dragging along the ground to get at me.
"Will you just fucking die!" I shouted, grabbing its wrist and forcing it back, pressing my sword edge-first through its chest until it had sank halfway-in, its other claw grasping at my face. I pulled the sword free along its cutting edge, sinking the rest of the way through its body, and finally it twitched to a stop in a spray of viscera. Finally, I pulled myself free, fishing my pistol up from the ground and wiping the blood from my eyes with my sleeve.
When I turned around, there was already a press of machines moving past me, Theda in the lead, rushing the stalkers at the rock with bayonets blazing. A shot connected with Theda's shoulder and deflected in a spray of ionized gas, then her own gun went off and took the crest off the shooter's skull, and she pulled herself over the collapsing body into its fellows, laughing like a maniac. Kelly was at my side a moment later, waving the remaining troops forward with his sword glowing green.
"Good lad." I said, voice pained as I pulled myself up. "Keep your head down, though."
"You alright?" he asked, offering a hand to help me up uselessly.
"I'm fine." I said, pushing myself to the edge of the ditch and looking up. The stalkers had formed a long line, two deep, straight out of our playbook, and were advancing on our position. This loose sandstone would offer little cover when they started shooting, if they all were on target. "Oh hell, there really are a lot of them…"
Even as I said it, there was a yellow flash across the field, and one of the flying guns from the clifftop tore through down the length of the line, spraying molten dirt skyward. Wherever the beam touched, stalkers burst apart like overripe fruit, the pieces of their exoskeleton spraying as shrapnel for dozens of meters. Moments later, the first real shells burst among their line, the charge in the heart of each shell explosively converting its reactive core into expanding plasma and a shockwave. A sheet of thick, dark dust hung in the air, pieces of blasted rock raining down and buzzing off our shields.
"Yes!" Kelly called, grinning wildly as he pumped a fist skyward. "We got 'em!"
"Down! Get down!" I shouted, grabbing his arm and pulling him below the lip of the ditch. "Section! Form at the edge of the ditch, weapons at maximum power!"
Theda's group emerged from behind the rock dripping with gore and dropped into position, weapons pointing outward, and Theda fell in beside me, her eyes dancing mischievously. Beside her rifle she had one of the alien weapons, one of those smouldering hatchets, and it was absolutely coated in ichor.
"This guy and his buddy both picked the wrong fight. They're tough bastards, huh." she mumbled, buzzing with excited energy. "I should have transferred years ago, you Brits get in some fun scraps."
"Theda, when Rifleman moves with the bomb, I want you covering him, okay?" I said, "With the rifle if you can, but get your body in the way if you need to. Just keep it safe."
"Of course, ma'am. How you holding up?" she asked, adjusting something on her scope. Out at the field, a second barrage, this one fired blind, slammed down like thunder, spraying more dust in the air.
"Just wonderful. Already got three." I said, knowing that would needle her. She nodded, clearly impressed.
"... show-off. I'll make it up in the shooting here, though."
I glanced at my pistol, feeling suddenly inadequate. After a moment's hesitation, I stashed it, turned around, and grabbed the musket from the fallen Theo behind me, staring lights-out at the sky with a smoking hole in his eye. The blade was thin… if he was lucky, it might have only partially damaged one of his processors, they could bring him back, mostly. If he was lucky.
"Hang on, friend." I whispered to his corpse, dropping back into position and pushing the weapon over the lip of the ditch. "Sumner! Where are you!"
"Here!" I heard her call, somewhere back down the line. Still with Corporal Rifleman. I sighted down the holographic sight, staring at the dark shapes in the swirling dirt with anticipation.
"What are the cuddlebugs up to, can you see them?"
"Yes! They're moving-"
She didn't get further than that, because at that moment the silhouettes in the dust resolved as stalkers, at least fifty, pressing through the dust as one, their feet moving in a perfectly coordinated march, weapons held forward. At least as many of them as there were us. To my right, Theda's rifle tonked, and one of them twitched as the needle passed through it, carving a hole through its shoulder in a blue spray, but its footfalls didn't even waver.
"Verdammte Außerirdische! Bastarde!" I heard her mutter, pulling the bolt open and fetching another bolt. "I'm out of exploding tips, the solids are just passing straight through them. This would be easier if they had bigger brains to shoot."
"What do you have left?" I asked, curious.
"Three poison, two acid, five EMP that'll do fuck all, and about two dozen solid shot. Plus stunners, if you're feeling merciful."
"Do your best." I said. "Hold, Theos and Doras! Let them get close, pick your targets carefully!"
Theda lined up, leaning against the scope as she steadied, and this time one of the stalkers suddenly convulsed as she fired, like something hot had fallen down its collar, before dropping to the floor, limbs spasming madly.
"Urgh. Think I lobotomized that one." Theda said, chuckling. "Sorry, friend!"
Christ.
The stalkers paused, the first rank kneeling, and I knew that if they shot, it would throw us off. It had to be now.
"Fire!" I called, the ensigns and NCOs echoing it instantly, and every gun in the light burst with light and smoke as the volley went out. The enemy was instantly obscured by the smoke, and I pulled back from the lip of the ditch just in time for their volley to crash down all around us, spraying dirt and rock up. I watched the lock of my gun, mentally counting down the seconds as I lined back up at the ridge, and the moment the light turned red I called for the next volley, squeezing the trigger at the same time, firing at the shape of one of the stalkers.
Again, their volley followed just a second later. The air was now so thick with dust and coolant we were firing entirely blindly, just flashes of light into the storm. Sometimes one part of their line would shoot and the purple flashes would cast their shadows against the cloud, and I'd aim at the centre of one for my next volley and shoot there when I could, five or ten seconds later. The coolant of my gun ran dry and I tore the flask from the fallen soldier's belt to recharge it, and then I had to discard a cooling rod which was so overheated it curled as I pulled it free, bending instantly as I threw it into the dirt ahead of us.
Over the din, I could just hear Sumner directing the fire of the rotary cannons, sweeping up and down the line systematically. Beside Theda, the machine next to her was stuck at the crown of her skull, and her friends desperately pulled her back by her crossbelts, calling for the trauma mechanic as they took her place. Thomas raced up the line, dropping next to her as she grasped for his coat and babbled desperately, spraying her skull down with cooling foam and trying to calm the poor machine down.
I forced myself over the lip of the ditch, sighted again at nothing, and fired. The laser flashed and I dropped back, the Dora on the floor now deactivated for her own safety, Thomas already racing further up to another injured machine. Theda, unable to see anything through her scope, was just screaming uselessly over the edge of the trench, snatching up the fallen machine's musket and firing blindly as she hurled epithets and threats.
In my ear, I could hear my radio buzzing, but the fire, the dust, the discharging plasma, it had turned whatever was being said into a wash of static.
The lock of my musket turned red, and I lined up and squeezed the trigger. Instead of the flash I was expecting, there was a spark and a loud pop, the sound of a crystal shattering from overheating and the discharging energies shattering the dozens of lenses along the barrel. With a roar of frustration I threw the useless weapon out into the field like a javelin and pulled my pistol, slamming a fist against the dirt.
"Come and get us, you fucking bastards!" I called, and Theda laughed.
"Yeah, come get us, ihr schwanzlosen Feiglinge!" she called, and something about that threw me.
"... dickless cowards?" I asked.
"It's true. I mean, look at them. They don't wear clothes. They reproduce with clones. They're categorically dickless." she said, shrugging.
"Yeah, but so are we. What does that have to do with anything?" I pointed out.
"Yeah, but… they're… sort of masculine, so it's like… Oh, one second." The light on her musket had turned red, and she snapped a shot off over the edge of the ditch.
"So are half our boxies, and like… they probably don't have dicks either." I pointed out. "And it's a bit, I dunno…"
"It's also not great for blokes with received genders, you know?" Kelly pointed out from beside me, pressed as far into the dirt as he could get to avoid the storm of fire.
"Thank you, Horace."
"Yeah. Okay, look, the coward part was really the operative thing." she said, offering me her stolen musket. "You want it?"
"You're probably a better shot." I said, and she nodded, the lock turning red again, and leaned up. This time, a purple blast blew the top of her hat off, and she pivoted instantly to the source and fired. Somewhere distantly, over the din, I heard a very satisfying crunch as her target's exoskeleton blew apart.
"Look, the point is, they're right fuckers is all." she said. "And they should have charged us, they might have overwhelmed us."
"Yeah… hold a tick. Are they still shooting?" I asked. Theda glanced over the edge of the ditch again, and gave a noncommittal jerk of her head. "Alright. Cease fire! Cease!"
The guns around me fell silent, and then the farther ones as the call was echoed. It didn't seem like we were being shot at anymore, no more purple beams overhead, no more shapes in the dust.
But we could still hear shooting, still see flashes. Small flashes of red, purple flashes in return, somewhere deep in the smoke.
We could hear the pop of blackpowder musketry, drowned by the roar of plasma guns.
We could hear screaming.
