Chapter 16

The Bay of Stormblade Harbour

Doyle finished giving me a quick update on what was happening inside the shield.

Hard decisions needed to be made.

There was a stretch of beach on the eastern shoreline of Beaver Island called Little Sand Bay. This beach was just to the south of the palace and would let us disgorge our troops half a kilometre east from where Calum MacDonald established his last-ditch defence. We could hit the mercs from the flank and crush the bastards in a half-pincer.

“Doyle, drop the section of the shield covering Little Sand Bay. We’ll make landfall there.”

“Of course.”

“Brant,” I opened a channel to the splinter pods. “Make for the gap in the shield. There have been developments on land. The rest of their fleet will have to wait.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Kristoff, implement the emergency return protocol, then take Storm Raider deep but stay close to the bay you might be needed. Doyle, make sure someone is there to greet them.”

“Consider it done, sir,” Kristoff replied.

The emergency return protocol was a plan to take advantage of the node connection between the cells in the Brig and the Slave Market. Kristoff would load the cells up with troops and activate the node which would transport them into the city. Upon arrival, one of Doyle’s people would release the crew from the cells.

Troops moved this way would have to leave their regular gear behind, it was a function of the node that all gear was stripped from them and stored in the galley of Storm Raider. However, the crew had lockers with sets of reasonable backup gear stored at the Slave Market.

They wouldn’t be as strong as they would be with their primary load-outs but right now we needed boots on the ground and Storm Raider was too badly damaged to be left in the open while the troops debarked.

The glimmer of the shield flickered and winked out around Little Sand Bay and Anastasia shifted the prow of Marena’s Mercy and made for the gap with a burst of acceleration.

“Torin, we have a problem,” she said almost immediately, pointing to one of the displays focused on the enemy.

The moment we’d altered course, several of the eleven blockading ships had reacted in kind. They’d broken formation and chosen to head for the gap in the shield. The captains commanding those vessels must have known what was going on inside and had been waiting for this very opportunity. We had the faster ship, but they were closer to the beach.

The race for that gap would be a close one.

On the monitor, I could see that the splinter pods had made swifter progress and would arrive at the beach before any of the larger ships. For a moment, I considered ordering the shield back up and letting the pod crews carry out the flanking attack alone. But there were only a few hundred crew members aboard the splinter vessels and that wouldn’t be enough.

Time to shift gears and take a risk. “New plan! Ana hard to starboard, we’re going through the gate instead.” The broken formation made that a possibility now. “Doyle, drop the shield in front of the gate and send the dockside ships out to intercept and run interference. Brant, I need the splinter pods to harass the group who just broke away. Raise the shield around Little Sand Bay once the splinter pods are clear.”

The quick shift in commands was carried out and caught the opposing fleet unprepared. The half who had moved to block our landfall were now out of position. They couldn’t shift direction in the same way Marena’s Mercy could. Our ship practically bunny-hopped out of the water and shifted direction midair with the same ease as a surfboard before powering through the gap in their lines.

The gunnery crews didn’t let up either, Hellstrike missiles were launched and with the distance closed enough, the splinter cannons on the ship could be used more effectively. Behind us, Brant's small armada of splinter pods popped to the surface and attacked the turning vessels. The larger of the pods latched onto the sides of the mercenary warships and allowed small boarding parties to clamber onto their top decks. They didn’t have the numbers to seize the ships, not with how many mercenaries I suspected were below deck, but they didn’t need to.

Every boarding group had at least one sapper expert with an inventory full of Sheamus’ most potent concoctions. All they needed was thirty seconds and a bit of protected space. When the charges were set, they would leap overboard to be collected back up by the smaller pods.

Marena’s Mercy ploughed through the water at great speed, slipped through the broken blockade, and passed the seven ships in port going in the other direction. Explosions rocked the decks of three vessels in the breakaway group, but I didn’t have time to find out how successful Brant’s teams had been.

“Ana, I need you to stay on board and react if any of the mercenary ships fight their way past ours.” The ships moving to intercept them were all vessels Crynn and her crew had captured which we’d brought back from the lifeless moon. They weren’t designed to be warships. We had outfitted them with some extra armour and weapons, but they still weren’t a match one-to-one against the proper merc warships.

For once, Ana didn’t give me any backchat about being forced to stay behind.

With that order given, I was on my way to the top deck followed by every able-bodied fighter.

***

Marena’s Mercy crunched into one of the jetties which abutted the bay’s southern shoreline nearest to the plexus gate and northeast corner of Stormwarden’s Palace. Ana hadn’t slowed the ship until the very last second and while the reinforced wooden dock held up under the rough treatment it would need some repair work later.

The strangest things can occur to you in times of high stress. The need for the dockyard repair work flitted through my mind when I jumped over the side of the rails and my boots connected with the wooden planks.

Susan waited for me on the dock. “Thank God, you made it in time. They haven’t breached the southern palace wall yet, but the defenders are under serious pressure and could break at any moment. There is no time to lose. Claudia has responded to the crisis and is sending another legion through the Pandaemonium gateway. With your permission, I want to send a few of those platoons around to the other side of Font Lake. Not all the mercenaries have entered the engagement in front of the palace, we’ve got eyes on some groups who are trying to sneak around.”

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“Do it,” I agreed.

As Susan finished filling me in, I caught sight of those who had been on Storm Raider running into view with LT at their head. They’d arrived in the Slave Market which was on the other side of the bay on a hook of land. The distance wasn’t too great to cover, especially when the streets had been mostly cleared apart from other military personnel. Unlike Hollywood movies, there weren’t throngs of people running around every street like headless chickens. The civilian populace had gone into hiding.

“LT take your people through the palace grounds. I want you up on the walls. Nazz go with them, that crossbow of yours will come in useful up there. Jackson, the same goes for you. Everybody else, follow me.”

I set off at a near-sprint with a growing number of people following behind. Crynn and Fang Mei ran alongside me. The palace grounds reached almost half a mile from north to south, but the echo of combat carried to us through the air. Every second it took to reach the fight, people who relied on me died. And my anger at these fucking assholes who invaded my home grew to ever greater heights.

The short sprint gave Quixbix a chance to chime in.

Right, kill the guy with a trunk with extreme prejudice.

Quixbix, are you trying to warn me that this guy might be stronger than I am?

Just as well, I’ve got an army at my back.

***

Jackson

Jackson hurried through the palace’s outer courtyards with Piper at his side which was a partial relief. Worry for Celeste and Britney gnawed at his stomach. They were in the city somewhere, possibly back at their shared home, but they were often out and about. Britney had opened an apothecary shop and Celeste often acted as a deputy for the city’s castellan, Susan. They could have been anywhere when news came through that the shield had been breached.

In short order, they reached the southern wall, and those worries had to take a backseat to the problems front and centre.

“Jackson, head up to the gatehouse,” LT directed after a quick assessment of the status quo. “They might need your pyrotechnics to burn out any battering rams.”

“Will do.”

Jackson, Piper, and the squad who followed them turned around the corner of the palace building itself and headed into the central rear bailey. LT, Nazz and those with them headed directly forward to the drum tower in the corner. That was the quickest way up to the walls.

It didn’t take Jackson long to reach the bastion gatehouse.

A large number of very heavy items had been piled up behind the gate.

In Jackson’s estimation, even if the attackers managed to get the gate down it would be very difficult to make their way through. But the enemy didn’t know that, and it wouldn’t stop them from trying. He raced up the stone stairway to the top of the gatehouse leaping up the steps three at a time.

At the top, Jackson found Shana and a dozen other archers loosing without stopping. Shana’s long black hair was plastered in a mix of sweat, blood, and grimy dust. Evidence that even up here the defenders had been hard-pressed. The fortified wall had been chipped and some of the crenelations smashed to pieces leaving debris clogging up the wall-walk. Shana grunted in acknowledgement of his arrival and flashed him a wan smile before her focus shifted back to what was happening on the other side of the wall.

The melee down below was a roiling mass of people and things looked grim for Shattered Legions who were defending. They were being pressed back by superior numbers. The assaulting mercs appeared to be rotating in and out of the battle line giving the defenders no let up.

There was a group over by the gate who had a pulley system operating, hauling up the wounded from the fight.

Jackson shot off several small balls of fire at opportune targets while he assessed the situation. “Piper, they need help retrieving the wounded.”

“On it,” she replied without the need for further explanation and stepped up to the wall, peering over the edge to get her bearings on the situation below.

With a quick assessment, Piper dipped into a pocket, pulled out a handful of seeds, and distributed them along the battlements. She stepped back to a safer distance, closed her eyes, and a green nimbus surrounded her body.

The seeds exploded into life, growing at an extraordinarily accelerated rate. They dug into the nooks and crannies of the wall to root themselves and then spread over the battlement and down the wall to where the badly wounded waited. Dozens of vines wrapped around those who were out of the fight and started to evacuate them upwards.

Shana paused in her arrow fire and leaned over the parapet to observe the wall of creeper vines that thickly carpeted it. Piper used animated vines to ferry up those too wounded to stand but the creepers also provided ample handholds for those still capable of pulling themselves up. “Won’t this make it easier for the enemy to scale the walls if they get close enough?”

“Don’t worry,” Piper grunted over to Shana with grit teeth. “I can wither the vines as rapidly as grow them. The enemy won’t be able to make use of them to reach the battlements if they break through.”

Piper’s intervention was so rapid and unexpected that the Medic Corp was unprepared for the sudden influx. Jackson had to help the first few wounded legionaries over to where they’d established a triage area on a deeper section of the wall-walk that was sheltered from the attacks that zinged up at them from the mercenaries down below.

After he helped the first man over and lay him down on a bed, Jackson looked over and spotted his friend Tommy amongst those tending the wounded.

“Tommy, thank heavens, you’re okay. Are Carlos and D-Ball here with you?”

Hearing his friend’s voice, Tommy looked up from the soldier he’d been tending. His morose expression spoke volumes, and Jackson felt a lump the size of a golf ball form in his throat.

“They…they didn’t make it, Jackson. I’m sorry.”

Tommy rose from his knees and took a step towards Jackson when another of the medical staff put a hand on his shoulder and asked for help.

“You’re needed here, Tommy,” Jackson choked out. “We’ll…we’ll speak after.”

Jackson left it that and stumbled out of the triage zone and back into the hurdy-gurdy of the conflict.

{I don’t like the vibes I’m feeling from you, young man.} Quincy, Jackson’s reluctant sprite companion, muttered in his head. {Don’t do anything stupid.}

“I thought you wanted out of this arrangement!”

{I do… but not by getting you killed. The Shattered Goddess would not approve. You are one of her heralds now.}

The emotional pain Jackson felt started to give way to a raging inferno of fury and the pace of his steps increased.

{You’re about to go Nova on me, aren’t you? Well, I can tell talking sense into you is already a lost cause. At least, be sensible and lay down a wave of the white flames to heal your allies first. There are so many in dire straits in range this could be the end of you if you aren’t careful.}

The sprite’s advice came just in time. Jackson took heed and adjusted his plan to incorporate it.

The Herald of the Ever-Shifting Flame activated Herald’s Burden. With so many people dedicated to the Shattered Goddess in range, Jackson’s mana pool increased by more than ten thousand. This afforded him a degree of power he’d never experienced; it was almost orgasmic.

But borrowing such power came with heavy risk. In the time it took him to leap onto the parapet he had lost three hundred hit points without being touched by a single attack.

The Burden.

He took damage whenever those who boosted his strength were slain while it remained active. Qunicy was not wrong, this might kill him, but before it did, he would empty the tank and burn these fucking bastards to cinders.

First, though, he dumped two thousand mana, a fifth of his new mana into a burst of purifying white flame and let it envelop everyone in a two-hundred-metre range. Only his allies would benefit from its healing properties. That should help stave off the impending deaths of the worst off as well as his own. Long enough for them to get to safety.

Blinking away the glare of the blast of white, Jackson leapt off the battlements and spread his Greater Pyromancer’s Cloak wide, his spread fingers creating heat thermals underneath to glide on like a bird of prey.

It was time to get his burn on.