“Alright, does everyone know the plan?” Mori asked, looking around at everyone at the table in the dining hall. She took each and every one of them into account as she made her plan. Eva was strong, but not as strong as any of her death knights, so she was mostly slated for repair work and getting anyone hit by anything out from under the open skies. Fara was a good shot and demanded that she be allowed to man the stern-side turret tower. Mori, seeing how dangerous that was, asked Aerolat to try his hand at it. The cloud of bloody mist agreed, suggesting that Fara be the one to pilot the skiff. Fara reluctantly did as told. She had already told Foursy One, the combat tested one, and Foursy Two, the other one, to patrol the skiff and attack anything that attacked them, so they were not a problem. They also decided not to use the Clockwork undead, just to keep a few secrets up their sleeves in the slim chance the Cyst decided to run away.
That left X52, Megaera, Allecto, Tisiphone, and herself to defend the skiff from almost everything that could be thrown at them. The three sister zombies were willing to stay grounded unless of an emergency, but stipulated that they would take to the skies if they were attacked from some other flying enemy, which X52 was more than willing to guarantee that there were. Mori designated herself as the defense against the Cyst’s barrages, Tisi helping her when the bombardment became intense. That left X52 with nothing to do. She did, eventually, explain the problem with her soul, and how she could not use magic unless someone healed her. Mori, in response, shoved a gun in her arms. For a moment, Mori thought that the Clockwork lady would have been annoyed, but she swore there was a level of excitement in her eyes.
“We’re good,” Eva said, “Are you sure you don’t want me shooting at whatever comes after us too? One more gun could make all the difference, you know.”
X52, or as she had been insisting they call her, VII, shook her head, “From the way you carry yourself, you aren’t experienced in any sort of real fighting. Confident? Yes. Ready? Perhaps. Battle worthy? Absolutely not. An inexperienced combatant could tip the scales against us in this situation.” Mori, while she did agree with VII, thought that it could have been phrased a bit more kindly.
Eva, however, took the comment in good grace, “Fine, whatever you say.”
They all looked at each other, agreement in their eyes, when Mori remembered something, “Oh, Aerolat, do you know where those two undead helmets I made are? I think Fara and Eva could use them well.”
Aerolat nodded, disappearing for a moment before coming from the hallway adjoining the room with the two little undead in his arms. He placed onto each of the two women’s heads, the little bug-skeletons wiggling a bit to fit properly. “So, we’re ready?” Fara asked.
“We’re ready. I’ll stay near to the middle of the skiff,” Mori said, “Aerolat, you tell me if we’re being shot at by something big. Tisi, you stay with me. Mae and Ally, you two patrol around the skiff and make sure they don’t get anywhere they aren’t wanted. VII, you stay somewhere nice and visible so the Cyst knows you’re here. We just need to outrun the thing until it can’t shoot at us. It’ll keep chasing after us and stay away from the main force like this. From there, we might be able to make a plan to take it down. Maybe. Alright, let’s go.”
They all got into position, VII even smiling as she got to the top of the skiff in the tunnel. Mori stood in the center of the skiff’s deck, prepared for the worst. Tisi stood to her side, looking as determined as Mori felt. Then, the skiff lurched forwards. None of them, save for perhaps Aerolat, spared a glance at the crowd of borrowed scientists and engineers standing behind the skiff; they had much more important things to do.
The light came fast, just as fast as their speed as they erupted from the tunnel, making haste for the outer desert. For just under a mile, they sped along uninterrupted. It was just long enough for Mori to entertain the idea that the Cyst would leave them alone. Then the thunder began. Mori, her hearing much better than a normal person, knew that the attack came from the skiff’s right and erected shields to hopefully match the bombardment. Tisi wasted no time in helping Mori, two thin layers of mana projected in front of Mori’s.
Then the shells struck. Mori could feel the bones rattling from the sheer force of the blast, some, no doubt, cracking from the explosion. It did not help that her body was encased in armor, making her bones slam into nearly unbreakable metal. “How’s the damage?” Mori called out.
“It’s fine!” VII called from her vantage point on the wall, “The mana and echoes in the shell aren't getting through the shield!”
“What the hell are echoes?” Mori called back, putting most of her energy into reinforcing the barrier.
“Later!” Ally called from the bow-side tower, “We’ve got flying bastards coming in! Bat-looking things! They’ve got… They have flamethrowers!?”
“That bastard!” VII raged, “That’s my design!”
Mori facepalmed even as she struggled to keep the shields up, “What in the name of every god out there do you need a flame-spitting bat for!?” Mori yelled back.
“Clearing out plant-based growths! And rooting out foxholes without turning the land to dust in the process!” VII replied, aiming and firing her gun at something beyond Mori’s vision.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
The stern-side gun turret turned toward the same thing VII was shooting at and let loose a round would have found found impressive were it not for the fact that she had been attacked by guns dozens of times bigger, “I think the Cyst is almost ready to fire once more,” Aerolat said, his voice coming from nowhere beside her.
Mori nodded as another thundering explosion erupted from far off, noticeably further away that time. Mori braced and felt her bones shudder as the explosion rocked the skiff and the ground. “Damage?” she shouted.
“Flames got to the side of the skiff. The paint’s gone, but otherwise we’re fine,” Aerolat replied, another shot firing off. Mori went about repairing the shields again, putting every ounce of effort into it as she could. “Mistress, one of the cannons is turning to the side. It is aiming at the place where the skiff will likely be far after the shell lands.”
At that moment, VII whipped herself around, “It’s firing an infiltrator shell!” she yelled, “Someone get to the front and be ready to deal with it!”
“We would!” Ally yelled, firing another bullet from her borrowed rifle, “But we can’t let the bats get through!”
“They’re called Long-Ears!” VII yelled back.
“Who cares!?”
“Dammit, get the two Foursies and send them to the front of the skiff if we can’t do anything here,” Mori said, hoping Aerolat was good at multitasking. Her death knight said nothing, but the two metal-clad war machines making haste to the front of the skiff was enough of an answer for her. The cannons fired once more and she braced for impact.
*=====*
Fara did not like the sounds coming from the skiff behind her. It was a mixture of yelling, screaming, and shouting, none of it having anything to do with anyone being shot thankfully, as well as repeated explosions erupting near the side of the skiff. Fara sighed as she heard another volley of explosions from Creators-knew-where. At least they were becoming more distant, so they would be in the clear soon enough.
Another set of explosions erupted from the side of the skiff and Fara groaned as she imagined her skiff’s protective paint ruined. Then a large pod-like shell slammed into the sand in front of the Kharon, throwing up a cloud of dust. Three panels blew open to reveal three different Infiltrators, all of which immediately charged the skiff. Fara was about to panic when she saw two armored undead lower themselves from the wall above her booth and look at the infiltrators with swords raised.
Fara turned the skiff to the side, towards the south and away from the Cyst in the north, to avoid the pod still in the ground. The two armored undead shifted to the side and put themselves in between her and the oncoming Infiltrators, still ready. Two of the Clockworks leapt up at the undead, claws and twin blades blazing with mana. The third, however, ran straight at her. It leapt at her, battleaxe raised to slam into the windows of the control booth.
For Fara, her life did not flash before her eyes, nor did she think about all she could have done. All that ran through her mind was the day she left her mother’s scrapyard and the little pouch her mother had given her. Her hand went for it before her mind even fully recalled what it was. Her hand gripped it before her mind even fully understood what was what. Her hand pulled out the little pistol, almost comically small, before her mind determined what to do with it. Her hand aimed it at the Clockwork before her mind thought of what to aim for. And, her hand pulled the trigger before her mind remembered what it would do.
The little pistol exploded in her hand, slicing lines across the skin and flesh of her hand, but also shot out a little ball of mana, little more than a pellet, that shattered the window in front of her. It continued on, moving almost slowly for a bullet, before it collided with the Clockwork’s chest. The little ball of blue expanded to encompass the whole Clockwork, only stopping its growth when it reached the tip of its clawed feet.
The ball collapsed in on itself suddenly, and that was it. There was no explosion, no burst of mana, no surge of power. Fara sighed, smiling as she looked at the newly-vacant pouch, “Thanks dad. I love you too,” she said, looking at the two Infiltrators being dragged onto the skiff by the Foursy twins.
*=====*
X52 grinned as another one of her Long-Ears blew apart from her rifle fire. She… did not hate this, fighting endless enemies even as more came. She had a few points in her long life where she fought against an enemy, but it was usually in the capacity as a commander, not as a defiant, gun-wielding survivor. She almost burst into laughter as a pair of Long-Ears were blown apart by another one of her shots, their husks falling to the ground.
For a moment, a pang of guilt ran through her-- as she knew that they were her creations-- but she smothered it with faith and logic. She logically knew that even the Forgeheart could not remove the soul-returnal feature of every Clockwork and she had faith in her mother to maintain every divine mechanism that led to the features continued function.
Thinking about guilt, she stole a glance at Mori and held back a sigh as another Long-Ear blew apart. She… regretted being so blunt with the way of the worlds. She had an inkling that the lich was not a part of the over-thousand-year-old war, but she could have used better words. In addition to that, she could have used better words to discourage the human woman from fighting. She was stressed, she knew, but she realized that it was no excuse to be a jackass.
VII blew apart another Long-Ear into a burp of flame. She was certainly having fun. Her fun, however, was at an end. With the sudden turn, the skiff was sailing away from the Cyst at an accelerated pace, outranging the guns of the thing. Not to mention the fact that every Clockwork had been blasted out of the sky.
She watched the Cyst fade in the horizon. There was still much to do, but there was now time to do it. She just hoped her new host would be more hospitable than before if she apologized.