Chương 11: Steady as it comes

"All forces withdraw to the bridge. By order of Major Vorgai, all forces are to cross the bridge in good order as fast as possible. The bridge will be detonated." The message boomed over the loudspeakers while behind the Major, his command staff hurried to either prepare equipment for evacuation or destruction. Nothing would be left usable in the tower itself. Before they'd pull out, this entire side of the crossing would be nothing but craters and shattered buildings. It mostly handled itself.

The Major instead watched the garrison fall back across the trenchworks below. They'd moved down a floor, away from the open viewing decks. Instead, metal shuttered windows offered more protection from a bullet. I asked them to stay, and for what? We leave a few minutes later, with some of them dead. He shook his head, trying to dispel the thought. He had no way of knowing the Aethereians would begin pushing right after he'd asked.

Next to him, Graeceling stared intently along the northern rail line, eyes practically fully auburn, a dull orange in the middle.

"How close are they?"

"A bit over a mile. Eighteen Travelers. They'll hit the forest's edge and the outer mines in minutes. And there's something. A flicker. Do you think one of them has evolved a way to avoid Systems-" A knife passed between them, lodging itself into the concrete roof of the tower. The Major went to the ground, elbows hitting the hard concrete. Pain lanced through his elbows, and Graeceling hit the ground beside him. Above, the knife vibrated, trying to dig further into the roof. If it had gone into flesh..

No time to think about that. Not now.

"Immediate artillery barrage now! I want every big gun across the river capable of reaching firing right now! Every mortar, every rocket barge, everything! A creeping barrage starting one hundred meters out from the perimeter! I want the shield turned on, full intensity! Prep the explosives." The shield would probably burn itself out swiftly at that power, but preventing Travelers from attacking outside its radius was critical.

Less chance of them making it inside, and if they hopefully, they'd have blown the first section of the bridge by then.

"Tell Jarvin to coordinate the retreat through the trenches and only the trenches. And that we have a probable infiltrator. Also, the Musveil is to pull back now." The siege mortar would probably not make it very far, but he'd promised an attempt. At the bare minimum, the ammo tractor would make a backup in case the explosives engineers had spent days laying failed.

"Artillery will be a few minutes. Current bombardment mission is support for the citadel at Trost." The Major resisted the urge to snarl. It would be misplaced retribution on the poor messenger. But damn whoever had authorized that. Artillery barrages couldn't save Trost, or likely do any good besides wasting ammunition.

"Not everything they have can reach that far. Get me something, Sergeant. Whoever is on the other side-""General Morak, sir,""I don't care if it's the Marshall himself. I want these Travelers slowed. Any means necessary. River barges?"

"Preparing. The captain in charge wants to avoid nearing the banks." Understandable, but not what he needed.

"Tell them to close as fast as possible, or I'll see him court-martialed myself. I don't need precision fire. I need blanket fire. Tell him danger close, five hundred meters out from the bridge. I want nothing left standing." Artillery and explosives were their only tools left to hold off the Travelers, much less the regular Aetherean troops. There were no mages or priests or other such forces at his command. What remnants of those depleted resources were left had already crossed the river.

There was no reason to waste them on a force expected to simply hold a few hours. As long as the explosives went off, their deaths were acceptable. At this point, he couldn't even disagree. A few weeks bought by them having to rebuild the bridge could mean time to evacuate more of the homelands to somewhere, anywhere. The bowels of the earth if needed.

"Sir, there's a situation at the Musveil." Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

Rebecca ran along the surface of a railway track up onto the bridge. Behind her, a dozen Scaverians breathed their last, knives embedded in throats and eye sockets. Okay, she'd made it past whoever was up there blasting Systemsight, but now Systemsight Shroud turned off. They knew she was here after she sent a few knives their way, and it was a mana hog. Having both it and Greater Invisibility active simultaneously was draining her mana at an unsustainable rate.

She continued running forward with the latter active, the occasional knife flying at opportune targets. They'd track her eventually from that. But Systemsight would detect her soon anyway, so she might as well make the most of it. Up ahead, the massive mortar that had just fired stood, groups of Scales feverishly working on its tracks. Easily the size of a train encased in an armored shell. A bit more complex of a target for her than usual. A somewhat smaller armored vehicle loitered nearby, the ammo tractor.

She drew a handful of daggers and threw them. The blades flew, seeking out throats and cutting down Scale engineers. Bullets hit near her, the crack of them whistling through the air, followed by small chunks of dirt flying near her feet. Up above, machine guns from the tower were opening up with surprising accuracy on where she had just been. The Systemsight user must be feeding them her location. She reached for more knives. Thick concrete encased the firing positions.

Rebecca could easily aim for the gunners, but more Scaverians would take over in time. Smiling, she considered a better target as she prepared to leap. Leaping, she threw the blades, knives homing on their targets. Blades cut into gun barrels, slicing through Scale steel with ease, rendering the weapons useless. More of them opened up, and she accessed her Morph Pool, her body rippling and changing as it descended.

Uncanny Dodge and her fluid morphology ensured she didn't get hit, flesh shaping itself out of the path of bullets. She landed on top of the Scale mortar, knives ready to take another stab at the machine gun emplacements. Her supply was starting to run low. She might have to turn on Systemsight Shroud long enough to get a new set from her Bag of Holding. One of the metal doors along the siege mortar's armored hulk opened, a Scale emerging with a submachine gun. It stood almost directly below Rebecca.

It yelled something in a querying tone, waving at the surviving engineers. She guessed it was probably trying to get them inside. One of her knives flew right through its neck, slicing an artery. Another crew member came out, machine pistol at the ready. It wasn't prepared for a knife from above through the top of the skull. The third one was smarter, reaching out and slamming the door shut while the remaining engineers fled.

Okay, so it would take time to get into this oversized tin can, and most of the retreating Scales weren't here yet. That left the crews of various machine guns, the tower staff, and the idiots firing the anti-tank guns. Speaking of which... One of the anti-tank guns was turning to face… the ammo tractor for the siege mortar. Her blood froze. She prepared another handful of knives, but there was no easy target. The crew cowered behind a thick metal sheet mounted around the gun itself.

Another shotgun blast from above drove her back a bit, cloaking once again. Okay, stay invisible. Wait for an opening to take out the crew. The loudspeakers above the tower turned on, speaking in mangled Aetherean.

"You have ten seconds, Traveler. We will greet our gods in death if we must. Seven. Six. Five." She ran, diving off the side of the bridge before they reached four.

Up in the command center, a sweating corporal kept the count up, eyes glued on Graeceling. He reached two before she spoke.

"She's gone. She's in the water. She has ways to get back up, but she's not using them yet." The corporal halted his count, shaking.

"Keep your eye on her. If she does make her way back up, give the order to detonate the Musveil's ammunition." The Major said. If it came to it, they would destroy the Musveil. It was an unfortunate loss, but it couldn't be helped. Destroying the bridge was critical. Hopefully, it would be a few weeks and not a few hours. But knowing their luck, some Traveler was about to reveal their ability to make bridges with a thought and a wave of his hands. Or perhaps they would part the river itself.

One of the Traveler's had jabbered on about some such concept back when peace existed, and he'd been an officer at the embassy. Some high-level priest back on their planet had done it, and their entire world had been in awe of it for millennia after it. Damnations, did their planet sound dull. Weapons flew from the forest's edge, arrows, knives, and such slicing through the air. No bullets or tracers. Travelers preferred older weapons.

More time in the system gave them a higher ceiling than guns, more talents, more skills, and more things built up over centuries of people using them. What use was building a tank with inches thick steel plating when a simple broadhead would slice through it? Not that they had much choice. Some armor was better than no armor when your country lacked people with high enough levels to be an actual countermeasure. Admittedly, most travelers couldn't punch through metal with that much ease.

There are just more of those that could than there should be. Arrows flew from the forest's edge, streaks of light heading for the command bunker. Metal shutters slammed home just in time. Arrowheads pierced the metal, enchanted steel stabbing through the shutter but failing to pass through completely. The Major looked at one, vibrating steel singing as it tried to force its way through. In a second, the magic had burned itself out, steel vanishing into thin air as the arrow's magic spent itself in futility.

He could see Travelers emerging from the forest, sending weapons flying at the garrison, still trying to retreat through the trenches. It was time.

"Detonate the outer perimeter."