"Mfalme Almasi! The Emperor is coming!"
Almasi glanced at the boy; perhaps 14, 15; who had just run up behind him; the boy's voice sounded with a hope Almasi lacked. For the past hour, Almasi and his metahumans had been fighting a terrible battle over the southern reaches of Anzania. The Jotun had come in strong; burning cities, destroying camps; and his own people had hit them back just as hard; but always being forced to run.
He'd sacrificed most of the aircraft he'd acquired when he conquered the region in failed attempts to hold them off... and lost many of his soldiers, meta-human and otherwise, during the running battles with the northern forces; holding their own here and there, but unable to stand against the massive Assault Ship floating over their forces in the background. The machines had destroyed many of their soldiers and tanks, before their advance had faltered. The swarming dead confused and delayed their soldiers. But with each passing hour, the forces he had remaining dwindled.
He'd been shot several times himself; his diamond structure surprisingly resistant to plasma fire; and had to acquire new clothes several times. He'd even fought one of the Jotun soldiers hand-to-hand and emerged... sort-of victorious. He'd broken the creature's weapons, and been able to withstand his attacks until backup arrived.
Things had been going better after the swarm of drones had fallen back
He wasn't certain what to expect from the Emperor of Iron. He was impressive enough. He'd driven so much fear into those he came across that conquering Anzania hadn't been much of a challenge; most of the warlords had ended up working for Almasi rather than being crushed and the government had voluntarily submitted before the Emperor even showed up at the capital.... But... what could he do against an army of alien monsters and a starship?
He could see the familiar, ever-growing, monstrous... thing... that the Emperor typically drove around. A moving palace, an aircraft carrier and battleship, all on enormous legs. which always had more iron, steel, bronze, being welded and attached to it. A symbol of terror and might... now being swarmed by Jotun soldiers and ACs as it approached.
He climbed onto the nearest rooftop, jamming his fingers through the rough-hewn wood to get a good grip as he reached the top, in order to get a better vantage point as the monstrosity charged towards the hovering alien warship. Gouts of plasma slammed into the hull, drilling deep within it... only to be re-sealed within seconds, as the smaller ACs were swatted out of the air by kilometer-long tentacles.
The air was filled with smoke, fire, and the flashes of blue-white plasma. He frowned; several of his men were simply watching the battle as well. Men with rifles, who should damn well be firing them rather than gawking at the Emperor!
He walked over to the building's edge, shouting out. "Fire, you morons! Fire! There are plenty of aliens for us all!"
As another blast from the starship slammed into the monstrosity, it began to lurch, seeming to fall forward... and then one massive tendril, multiple kilometers long, suddenly lashed out; and slammed into the side of the vessel. There was an abrupt flash of vivid blue light at the point of contact.
***
Engineer Farqi had been checking energy levels; the ship had been damaged in the battle in orbit, and wasn't operating at a hundred percent. Hovering over the planet at point-blank range and firing down on its surface to provide close air support to its forces didn't pose a challenge, despite its reduced power capacity; but still. Everything needed to be stable, and any combat situation was important. He would seriously advise against flying this low; it increased energy requirements, and made fire from ground-based enemies more effective; but the captain trusted him and his staff... and the ship's armor... to handle the job.
He frowned as he studied the power readouts. There was a sudden tiny spike in one of the forward batteries. One of the plasma weapons had just been taken offline, and the excess power might burn out the other weapons in the same bank if it wasn't redirected. As he started to redirect the power, wondering what might have taken out one of the armored weapons blisters... he could hear a strange groan.
It sounded... like metal, creaking.
A ship's engineer didn't wear a full combat suit; like most shipboard Jotun, he wore a simple harness, designed to keep him alive if he were ejected into space; he was a simple, two and a half tall crustacean, just a competent one. As the ceiling began to crush inward, like a titanic iron fist closing around him, he quivered in terror, claws uselessly pressing at the surface. Throughout the ship, there were screams; the horrific cracking of carapaces being crushed flat between metal plates. The blasting of plasma weapons, firing uselessly as the soldiers aboard the vessel tried desperately to do something, to free themselves.
Farqi's last sight was of the reactor and its conduits moving slightly further away, as if the mass were crawling, avoiding the downward-pressing ceiling; before the pressure grew too great, and his skull collapsed, ending his fear and agony.
***
One moment, the battle was desperate. Most of their men were dead. The aircraft had all been destroyed. Only a handful of tanks remained, and few of the soldiers had anti-Jotun weapons; and those who did, found it almost impossible to hit the swiftly moving monsters without the aid of their automatic sensors. Most of the Jotun being taken out were being shot down by the Machines; who, being forced to ask nearby soldiers to confirm targets, were often being crushed before they could open fire; each of the machines had 'adopted' a soldier to follow before the jamming took over; and followed him or her around like a puppy. A giant, incredibly dangerous, mechanical puppy.
The next moment... the starship which had been supporting the Jotun started to fire on the Jotun aircraft themselves, even as the Emperor of Iron's monstrosity approached closer to it; and the two craft began to merge; slowly reshaping, the plasma cannons rotating, twisting... and the smaller Jotun craft began to flee. Whatever the bluish-yellow fluid was leaking from the starship didn't likely bode well for its occupants.
Almasi stared at the hideous abomination that was taking shape, as his men cheered, calling out... there was a chant going down the line, among the survivors. "Umbusi Wensimbi! Umbusi Wensimbi!" He frowned at his troops. Most of his original band spoke Swahili, Afrikaans, and some spoke english. Was that... Zulu?
As the remnants of the Jotun force continued fleeing to the west, towards one of the other Jotun vessels... the abomination gave out a terrifying sound; as if a thousand bolts of lightning had struck at once, the very earth shaking beneath it... and began to lift into the air. Now looking like an even larger horrific mass of various types of metal, welded and merged together, with hundreds, or even thousands, of tentacles stretching out, no longer reaching the ground...
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Except to reach out and grasp some errant Jotun soldier; crushing him into the dirt, leaving a grisly trail as it followed the rest, leaving the cheering soldiers behind.
One of Almasi's few surviving lieutenants; a young woman who could form and toss arrows of fire with her hands, wearing a simple camo uniform to hide her distinctiveness from enemy fire; even carrying an unused AK-47 on her back; hopped onto the roof beside him, jets of flame briefly propelling her before she settled in. ".....My King. Are you sure you want to try to betray... that... after we've taken Africa?"
Almasi glanced down at her. "I suspect that ship has..... flown." He turned back to watch the fading image of the now-airborne Emperor. "... He told me they had to bring a Titan to stop him, or he couldn't be beaten. That he could crush an army on his own." As the ship seemed to be actively reshaping itself; likely its... pilot.. trying to decide where to put his new reactor and weapons, or even just trying to figure out how they worked... Almasi wondered. Could even a Titan stop him now?
***
The 'Throne Room' was different from when the Emperor of Iron had arrived in Africa. A series of eight seats ringed the central throne, with a group of young women; each in an identical, silver dress, with a baled head adorned with some form of strange markings; filling them. Their hands were joined, forming a circle, and at the center, the Emperor had his eyes closed, his hands embedded in the 'controls'; a pair of cylinders filled with a gel-like substance, with hundreds of wires projecting out, touching his skin; in turn welded to hundreds of larger components, elsewhere in the ship.
The tall dark-skinned, lean man in a lab-coat and the more pale-skinned man in the general's uniform both stood, trying to be calm, before the strange scene. The Emperor had called them here; but hadn't said a word since they arrived. Clearly he knew they were there; a pair of steel tendrils had moved chairs into place after they stopped approaching; chairs that General Regis wasn't certain he should sit in. He hadn't met the Emperor that many times. Was he supposed to sit?
Doctor Kline looked around the room, and leaned closer to the shorter, more powerfully built man. "General.... do you know why the girls? Are they... concubines, or something similar?"
Regis studied each of them in turn. "No. The Emperor's ability to control metal doesn't seem to be limited by mass, but apparently he can only do so many things at once, and only so far away from himself. An incredibly impressive number, and distance, but still. Limitations he's been working to overcome. He's tried chemicals and medications that helped, but... he's also found that if he forms a connection with a telepath, he can let them... assist? Each of those women is controlling some part of the vessel we're inside. Even when the Emperor is asleep, his power still roams; and if one accompanies him, they can keep the ship moving."
The doctor nodded slowly. "Considering what he was capable of in the past, that is... incredible. Its easy to see why in days of old people considered men like him to be gods. Do you know why he called us in?"
The Emperor's voice suddenly seemed to shake the room. "You are here, Doctor, because you are one of my experts at Jotun technology. We're about to absorb a second Jotun warship, and I would appreciate your advice regarding its power systems and weaponry. General Regis will be with us only briefly." His eyes opened, and he focused on the man. "You are to inform Almasi that while my meddling in his territory will be kept to a minimum, I require him to deal with the machine in his lands. It cannot be tolerated to exist within the Empire."
The General nodded, and gave a salute. "Of course, your majesty. We will plan regarding this immediately. If you can retrieve one of the jamming devices the Jotun are using, that would make things swifter and less damaging to your servants, however."
The Emperor nodded, looking thoughtful as he leaned back in his chair. A young woman wearing a far more ordinary black dress seemed to appear as if out of nowhere, and begin massaging his legs, as he shifted slightly on the throne. "...You are correct. My forces have been sufficiently damaged fighting the Jotun. I may have already retrieved such a device. We will deal with the machines after cleansing the aliens. Wait a moment."
The entire vessel shook; it was turning, moving; metal walls shifting and groaning, as it charged into battle.
***
The Jotun Assault Ship was too badly damaged to make orbit; it was here to support the local ground forces, pulled from hundreds of ships still up in space, and was fully capable of in-atmosphere maneuvering. Initially, it's captain quailed at the thought of going up against the betentacled monstrosity approaching it. "..Seek out its primary power source, whatever it might be, and open fire while retreating. Its got the same engine as us, but more than triple the mass; we can hopefully stay at extreme range."
One of his engineers turned to the captain, raising a claw inquisitively. "Captain! I recommend we simply strike the vessel with a nanoplague shell and order forces on the continent to withdraw for a few hours. While part of its shell is made of scavenged material from our own ship the systems that make us consumption-resistant are active; a charge run over the hull, rather than any sort of property of the material. It is highly unlikely the target vessel is capable of surviving long-term after such an injection; and its use will likely cause catastrophic harm to the rest of the continent's military after it falls."
The captain studied the engineer for a moment. Nanoplague usage over areas that Jotun were planning to vacate was prohibited on any planet they wanted to leave intact; some portions of their own carapace had metals in them the substance could devour, and of course even the slightest damage would render their craft vulnerable. The Disrupter would need to be disabled to use it, and it was always possible some tiny speck would find its way into some out-of-the-way crevice and survive a later pass; and the natives also had metal in their bodies. If he caused the eradication of all local life by releasing it and letting it run for too long, he would be executed; official policy allowed only minutes after Nanoplague distribution before a Disrupter must be used. This thing might take hours to die.
He glanced at the display of the oncoming monster. If he fled in cowardice, he would also be executed. But that... thing... had managed to devour another Jotun starship before it could fly. Not only would he likely die if he engaged it with normal weapons, but it could devour his ship... and there might be some threshold, some number of ships devoured, at which it became unstoppable.
He turned to the Engineer. "Do it. Notify all other ships to withdraw from the continent for the next... six hours. We will do so ourselves after firing."
***
The Emperor studied the enemy starship as it approached. Was his throne now a starship? He pondered how hard it would be to keep the hundreds of staff he kept around alive if he took orbit. No... Not yet. He needed more engines. According to the doctor, he needed a higher 'thrust to mass' ratio; and must either get more engines, or sacrifice some of his mass.
The Jotun had been accelerating at him rapidly at first, clearly intending to fight; but had simply fired a single missile from a few kilometers away, and turned, trying to retreat. The Emperor rolled his eyes at the foolishness; allowing the missile to strike, forming a more solid mass in its path, angled to redirect the impact; with the mass he could work with now, even a nuke wouldn't penetrate to the throne; and lashed out with a charged tendril before the enemy could build up that much speed. The tendril flash-welded itself to the enemy ship on impact; and while it lacked the durability to actually hold them back....
The ship halted the moment it was attached; and the Emperor visualized the vessel as a fist; clenching down, crushing every empty space within it, turning it into a single mass of metal.
As the Jotun aboard were either crushed to death or imprisoned, he noticed something strange from the missile impact. It had burrowed a few meters into the relatively soft outer shell he'd created... and then discharged a payload. Something that was... eating away at the metal? "Girls. Control the ship, and work with Kline on a new floor plan. We have a problem I need to deal with."