Sitting in my cockpit, I could feel how the engines roared to life all around . I watched as about a dozen chanics finished the last checks under the wings and around the wheels of my squadron. It was ti to do our job, and once we were in the air... the feeling was not sothing I would give up for anything.
“Eagle Squadron, we got the green flag! Throttle up, and follow into the skies!” I barked into the radio as my plane shuddered, and I began pressing forward, kicking the engine to full throttle. Around , eleven more engines scread in answer, as we all lifted off, taking a few rounds above the massive army while we gathered into our formation.
"Lazlow," To my right, Brask’s voice crackled through the headset, as it ca up to , being my assigned wingman, “I an, Commander, what do you think? Will they try to stop us ahead of ti?”
"Could happen," I smirked, my eyes moving to my left, seeing his plane and its markings on its tail, all the kills confird to his na, “The beasts are not the smartest, but even they could feel the danger we pose to their existence.”
"Good!" He laughed, still easy-going and sowhat cocky, but he had the kill count to back it up, twice as many as the others, twenty-three in total. “My aim is a hundred before retiring!”
“You still have to survive for that to happen,” I nudged the stick, doing a slow circle above the others on the ground.
From above, looking at the mass of warriors was staggering. Columns upon columns, endless waves, sothing that was the beasts' doing... usually. Now, they will get a taste of their own dicine.
"Look at that..." Brask’s voice softened, a rare kind of seriousness creeping into his speech, “You see it, Laz? Now that is why I am proud to be an Avalonian... This is history. And we are flying through it!”
“History’s written by the survivors,” I reminded him, turning my head and scanning the horizon. “Eyes east, Brask! We’re the tip of the spear, and if you want to be part of that history, make sure you can tell it to your kids!”
“Copy that,” he answered, chuckling. "Don't worry... I am good enough to protect both of us! I need witnesses to tell them how good I was~!"
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The ground shook beneath our boots... The worst and best thing at the sa ti was that it happened not because of us... Heh, oh no... we were just simple n with spears and shields, wearing a chainmail shirt and... I felt like we were simply out of place. Yes, we were plenty but... The shaking was coming from the monsters marching ahead of us.
"Monsters..."
“They’re not monsters, you dolt,” my sergeant hissed when I muttered it aloud, slapping the back of my head, making my helt slide over my face. “They’re Avalonian chs. They taught us that! They kill the monsters, so we don't need to suffocate them with bodies!”
"Y-yes... sir..." I mumbled, fixing the tal bucket on my head...
Didn’t matter what he called them, though. To , they looked like walking monsters, iron giants standing on two legs. What are those if not monsters? Each step made the earth tremble, and they made the horses skittish whenever they got close to them. Monsters. It is useless to debate it. One had a... Cannon, or what it was called, slung over its shoulder, the size of a building. Another had a sword taller than the church where I married my dear Agnes.
“Gods above,” Jorin, the guy I got to know while training, whispered next to , “What if they turn on us?”
"Sssh!" I elbowed him. “Shut it... They’re on our side.” At least, I prayed they were... But I was afraid of the sa thing; I just learned not to bring that up. They defeated the mighty Ishillia, as far as the stories go. Us? Bumpkins from Nonia? We were nothing, really. "Wha?!"
I flinched when suddenly, sothing scread high in the sky. We all stopped for a mont, not just , but our commanders too, everyone craning their necks as those... airplanes or whatever they are cut across the sky like tal geese. Brrr... Monsters... I saw a few lads make the sign of Goddess Orsi, as if any of the Gods could save us from them if they decide to turn against us.
“Bloody show-offs,” one of our n muttered, a column over to my left.
"I heard their Sovereign does have a saying he likes to repeat," Jorin mumbled, making look at him.
"What's that?" I asked when he refused to say more.
"Well..." He looked around before uttering it, "Shock and Awe."
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Piloting my machine ca much more easily than I expected. Maybe it was because of Grandpa's training... I don't know. But, sitting in the cockpit now, and becoming one with my own ch, it didn't feel any different than walking on my own two legs. It was natural, even.
“What are you thinking of, my Knight in his shining armor?” Jila’s voice teased through the private channel between our chs. I was kinda used to it already, watching her crimson-colored ch stomping alongside mine, “All you are missing is a horse. Maybe you could ride Galahad?”
"That sounds so wrong..." I muttered.
"I wouldn't be jealous." She countered, and I knew she had been spending a bit too much ti with my mom.
"..."
“You’re quiet,” Jila said after a mont, when I had nothing to shoot back with.
“Just thinking.”
I wasn't lying. I was indeed thinking, wanting to make sure that I can do what Dad and Grandpa expect from ... What Mom thinks I am capable of doing. And more importantly, I was thinking about how to make sure Jila will be safe... Even if we are walking into battle... And knowing that there is nothing safe in that.
“About?” She asked as I fell silent once again.
“The weight on ,” I said, my fingers tightening a little as I was honest with her in a way that I only reserved for my siblings. “Everything...”
"No worries," Her ch's head turned slightly, “Even if you fall over, worry not! I'll pick you up~!”
"Heh, thanks..." I chuckled, my tension slowly disappearing, “You make it sound simple.”
“It is simple,” she snorted, “Not easy. But simple. Trust , Lancy... I'll be there to protect your back... I'm your wifey! It's my job!”
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From the deck of the Stormbringer, the world looked so small... It was like all the gas I have always played, but this ti, the pieces I was moving were representing actual people. But... I always dread of getting a chance to prove my worth, even though back ho, there is no precedent of a woman leading anybody into battle.
At the mont, I stood in the middle of the command deck, looking at the projection of the ground below us, wearing an Avalonian uniform, the sa one that every officer, including General Oleg, wore, only with different insignias on my shoulders and left chestplate.
“Empress Mirian’s left flank is steady and moving. The Imperial regints are keeping pace.” He handed a list, "Note our average speed and prepare for syncing up the Khulman forces when we et up with them."
"I can do that," I said, scanning it before looking at him. “What about the rest?”
"They just need to match Avalon and Ishillia; the rest of the Union's troops can catch up."
He was right... What my Father's units will have to match are the Avalonians and the Ishillians. As for the rest, they will be stretching behind us, manning all those camps and fortifications we leave behind.
“This march will be rembered by all,” I murmured.
"Who knows," He chuckled, shaking his head, "Maybe you can design a tabletop ga after we are done. I heard you are a frequent visitor to Krel's Emporium."
"Y-yes... that is true..." I muttered, blushing a little, "But... To make a ga out of this..."
"Why not?" He shrugged, "You told about the scenarios you played. Aren't those all old battles from Khulman's history? This is not different, not at all! So... Keep the details in your head. We will need it anyway..."
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By the fifth day, the march had found its rhythm.
From the Calot’s bridge, I watched us move, and its novelty had sowhat ceased to excite anymore. So far, there were no signs of monsters, even when we passed by the mines, where we found those lucky survivors of Markoth... But we didn't get far either, not yet, so it wasn't strange. By the tenth day, though, we were in a previously 'uncharted' part of Markoth, heading towards the eting point with Khulman.
“Scouting team reports a crossing ahead,” Kustov walked up to , handing a report. “The planes say that the river had swelled because of the winter, and if there was any bridge previously, it is now gone for good. There is no way we can take a detour, not within a reasonable ti, so General Oleg's suggestion is that it would be best to build a crossing by ourselves.”
“Take us down a little,” I said. "Let see it."
They were right, of course. The river's current was swift, carrying branches and other debris that had fallen into it as it rushed southward. It was about thirty to forty ters wide, and by the aerial scouting, it was the narrowest part.
“Engineering teams to the front,” I ordered in the end, “Halftracks with winches, one and three n squads. Send in a few chs first and station them along the waterline. We will not only build a bridge for our people to cross over, but this will be the first base we will construct. Instruct the second wave commanders to assemble two hundred n who will remain behind. They will need engineers amongst them, as we need to lay the railway over the river..."
“Yes, Sovereign.” Kustov saluted, "Don't worry, it will be done."
Not long after, my troops began working like a well-oiled machine. The first pontoon splashed in after fifteen minutes, and sappers wrestled it into place with poles and a few curses coming through the open comms as they lashed it to the nearest ch’s ankle for now. Another pontoon followed... then the third.
It went well at first; we were already halfway through when it happened.
I didn’t see the first one breach the surface of the river. The weird thing was that not even the chs could pick up their magical signals coming for us... They likely used the current to propel themselves towards us from upstream and sohow managed to remain undetectable...
“Contact on the waterline!” one of my soldiers yelled, already reaching for his weapon, “Ambush—”
They weren’t big, springing from the water like piranhas. They were at best human-sized, but that also ant they were smarter than the usual ones, and there were too many of them. They had long bodies, slick as eels but armored in overlapping, bony plates with four hooked forelimbs and a pair of paddle-like legs at the back. Their broad, teeth-filled mouths were their primary weapon, which opened sideways to show a ring of barbed, inward-curving mouths of death. They ca up under and around the pontoons and around the chs’ legs, flinging themselves at the first throats they could reach and find.
Two engineers went down screaming the next second, dragged into the water... I only saw one of my soldiers jumping after them, without thinking, but the only thing he could retrieve was a torn apart torso... Bastards. The ones who had nothing to fear from them mainly were my soldiers, as it turned out that their teeth couldn't get through the armor made out of the larger monsters' scales.
“Keep them off the chs' legs!” a sergeant shouted, “Hold the line for the winches, they are trying to sink our bridge!”
Not that they had any chance of damaging my machines... When one of the eel-things had latched onto a ch’s shin with a wet thunk, my Knight simply pivoted without drama, brought his free heel down, and grounded the thing into the riverbed in a churn of red mud. Fuck 'em. Another ch shifted to shield a team of engineers with its bulk, its plating taking stripes of teeth in stride, giving enough ti to the unarmored n to retreat.
But even then, so had chunks of flesh bit out of them, so even losing an arm or a leg... But, the mont they got carried away by others, the priests and nuns of the Geth Empire were already there, even if half of them were white-faced, scared kids... Yet, they did more than I expected, and with such proficiency that I began to understand why they were the holders of one of the artifacts known for its healing efficacy. I saw a nun kneeling by an engineer of mine who had lost half his calf to one of these monsters. She pressed her hands to the wound and murmured, summoning a warm-looking formation, similar to what Mirian could cast. Then, light pooled under her spell, and the torn at knitted together. Although it left behind a discoloured flesh and would scar later... it was better than becoming crippled.
“Where in all hells did they co from?” soone demanded over the comms, and as far as I could tell, it was the sergeant who jumped into the water, trying to save the first casualties of this war...
“Under,” ca the answer from another channel, and I just kept listening, “Their magical signatures are… nothing. They are drawing blanks on our sensors." Corinne, the Shadow's pilot, continued, "The mont they go into the water, their signals go out...”
“Underwater camouflage?” rlin's voice joined the conversation, incredulous and angry at the sa ti, "Secure samples and bring them aboard the Calot! I want to take a look at it."
He would get what he asked for as my n were angry and those 'fishes' that weren't killed were flung to the shoreline, their legs cut off and their bodies tied up. The ambush lasted only for a few minutes, yet it felt like an hour.
“Clear,” soone called, and then others repeated it multiple tis, “Clear!”
“Stay,” the sergeant yelled, standing on the half-completed pontoon bridge, “Hold your position! They’re small, so they are clever. They’ll give you a silence to make you lazy...”
In the end... no second wave ca.
“Count?” I asked, an hour later, as I watched the bridge being completed to let people cross, and then the actual bridge construction began.
“Seven dead,” Oleg reported a minute later from the Stormbringer. “Two engineers, three auxiliaries, and a sapper. Fourteen have been injured from severe to moderate, but they have been stabilized by the Geth mages.”
“Na them,” I said, because the dead are not numbers, and I made myself hear each one and where they’d been standing when they were dragged into the river. "Make sure that the bridge we build has a sign with their nas on it." I sighed, shaking my head.
First blood... and I sohow can't get used to it. Probably because I never liked losing any of my units when playing a ga back in my old life either...
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