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CAL
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Calvin Galway had not expected any of the last eight months. He had been living and working on the family farm with his three brothers, his parents, and their extended family. It had been hard work, but they were happy enough. That had changed when the raiders arrived and killed Carl, his middle brother; Sam, his fourteen-year-old son; his sister-in-law Sarah; and Julian, his brother John’s son. The rest of them were loaded in a cage cart and hauled off to be slaves or food.
And then the Duchess and Lord Bonchance had arrived full of righteous fury and destroyed their captors. After that, he had been privy to the start of his world-changing and somehow found that he had an aptitude for war. Now, he was in charge of the Duchy’s militia and a member of her most trusted associates.
He stood in the concealment of the lean-to outside the barn, waiting with his squad, when Gerard came jogging over, “Sir, a message from the Duchess. She and Lord Bonchance are at the vehicle, and she says the attackers left long enough ago for their footsteps to be nearly filled. She expects them to come over or around the palisade and wants you to capture them. As soon as you have them, the Lieutenant is supposed to fire his weapon, and we are supposed to begin operating the jammer.”
“Thank you, Master Gerard.”
The man saluted and ran back inside.
“Over or around…we need to know…Lawrence, you and Carter light some torches, as hot as you can make them, one up on top at the end of the walkway by the drop and one right outside the gate. One of you stays by the one on the palisade up on the walkway and one on the road next to the gate. Keep your helmets on, stay low, and watch for heat or movement.”
“Won’t they see us too?” Lawrence asked.
“Not if you’re next to a hotter source, like trying to see a candle next to the sun. Whoever’s on the walkway calls off their locations as they cross the village. Once we know which direction they’re approaching from, we can shift position to capture them.”
The militia waited patiently as Carter periodically notified them of the attackers’ location as they moved unsuspectingly across the snow-covered landscape.
“They’re coming up the road,” was called out, “heading into the logged area.”
Cal nodded, “So they’re probably going to come over the wall.”
Minutes later, the runner that had been placed right inside the gate so he could hear Lawrence ran over. “They’ve stopped and are preparing something,” he whispered.
Right at that point, there was a popping noise, and something flew up and over the palisade. As it dragged across the ground, it registered what it was: a line attached to a grapple, and Cal reacted.
“Welles,” he hissed as he looked at the biggest of his troops. “Get flat against the wall; when he gets off the line, grab him and get his helmet off his head and on yours. They’re going to want a response. Give it to them.”
Welles nodded and got into position.
“Everybody else, fan out and get ready to surround them. Simon, get ready to shoot.”
There was a brief moment of quiet rushing, the snow muting all sounds. The first man came rushing down the wall on the line and landed in an experienced crouch only to be knocked flat on his face and his helmet ripped off; Welles slapped it on his own head and then gave a quick thumbs up as he jammed his rifle barrel into the attacker’s neck.
The next men came over and were dealt with much the same, and when the last arrived, Cal yelled, “Simon! Now!”
There was a rush of noise and a blast of flame as the Anti-Radiation Missile homed in on the hapless drone’s comm feed and smashed it from the sky. Micheal, up in the OP, could see the launch on the external cameras and immediately initiated the interference screening HARI-9 had configured, broadcasting opposing signals on the same frequencies detected, excluding the Duchy’s, muffling them, and now any sort of transmissions or sensor range was immediately reduced to a slight fraction of their original.
____________________________________________________
BONCHANCE
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We lay there in the snow, waiting. The Old World uniform kept me warm enough, and I knew Mara’s body didn’t feel the cold as mine did.
The crawl over the ridge hadn’t taken that long, even almost burrowing under the rapidly accumulating snow like moles. We had even gotten close enough that I could hear the low whine of some motor or other inside the Blower.
“We can stand now; as long as we stay under this engine pod, the drone can’t see us,” Mara said. “The hatch is there,” she pointed. “Now, we need to get them to open it.”
“Why would they open it?” I asked.
“If there was something they needed to check out here.”
“Like parts of a drone falling on it?”
“We can’t be sure if that will happen.”
I grinned inside my helmet, “They just have to think it’s happened.”
She nodded, “Can you deal with whoever exits? Stupid question, I’m sorry.”
“You’re forgiven.”
We waited, and then there was finally a flash and a dull crack overhead. Mara was moving instantly, leaping up the fifteen feet until she landed on the top of the vehicle with a heavy thud.
“I’m standing on the drone launch hatch; they can’t send up a replacement,” came over my helmet.
I was now next to a set of hand and footholds in the side by the hatch while ducking down. There was a series of clanks, and the hatch opened, and a man stepped out. I reached up with my left hand and, grabbing him by the ankle, dragged him off the side of the vehicle and into the snow before clamping my right hand around his throat until he went unconscious.
“I have him.”
“Bring him up here.”
Slinging him over my shoulder, I began to climb and was soon standing next to Mara.
“Lay him down here.”
I set him down where she indicated, and we both descended to the currently unlocked hatch; I opened it quickly and moved inside while drawing my pistol.
“Master Chief, did the drone bay get damaged?” the man seated at a console wearing a set of data glasses was turning to look at me; at the same time, Mara was grabbing the man in the front of the vehicle.
My revolver was out, and I was pointing it at the man in front of me’s face.
‘Welcome to the Duchy of Ceedo,” I said politely before flipping a sack over his head and beginning to tie him up.
“We’re secure,” Mara called out. “Status, Captain?”
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“Six very unhappy visitors, all secure and claiming we are all primitives.”
“That’s not very nice,” I replied. Then I looked at Mara, “Now what?”
“How fast can you get the South Tunnel open?” she said over comms, not voice.
I replied the same way, “An hour to start the tunneler, another half an hour after that?”
“Secure him,” she handed me the man she was holding. I bagged and tied him while she returned outside to recover the man whom I had subdued. Once she was back inside, and I had all three in the back, she climbed into the seat and started flipping switches.
“You know how to operate this?”
“I think so. I’m not as good as he,” she nodded at the heap of bodies, “is. But I can at least move it around. There was a building roar and a shuddering as the entire vehicle lurched. I climbed into the seat of the man I had threatened with my revolver and hung on. There was a low roar that built up in volume and another few lurches, and then I felt the sensation of swinging or pivoting.
“Okay, I blew the fans and top deck clear, and the cushion is full. Here we go.”
There was another change in the pitch of the roar, and we were moving. The front window was a tracery of lines, like sketches of the ground and trees.
“What’s that?” I asked, pointing.
“Radar generated wireframe. Optical can’t see anything in this crap.”
We were rushing across the ground, and Mara was dodging various obstacles and rocks. Occasionally, the vehicle would bounce straight up in the air and then land to clear a fence or a group of stumps. Finally, I saw the ‘wireframe’ of the lower garage. Where the South Tunnel was supposed to emerge was right underneath it.
“Open the door and bring the Gut outside. Then get that tunnel open; we need a place to hide this thing.”
____________________________________________________
O’NEILL
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Hunter Six woke up to find himself still in the rough stone room with the wooden bed.
After his team had been grabbed, they had had their gear removed, including their boots, and been led into a barn with a variety of oxen and horses. There, the primitives had secured them to some of the very secure-looking logs that supported the structure and had waited for hours and hours, long enough that their guards had been changed twice. Then, they were all given their boots back and secured in a rope line, hooded, and escorted out. After going halfway down the road up to the palisade, he and his men were secured to roughly made litters, and pieces of cloth were put in their ears to muffle their hearing. Then the hoods went back on, and they were carried an unknown distance and direction until he was unsecured and stood up with his boots removed again. Once he was walked forward, the hood was removed, and he was untied.”
Turning, he saw a man in a suit standing there. He was slightly taller than average, carrying a pistol leveled at him just out of arm’s reach, and looked tired, “I do so hope you appreciate the accommodations. We were not expecting guests, so we have had to make do.”
“You have no idea what hell you’ve unleashed…”
“Hmmm, I do think I do. You came to kidnap my Duchess, likely because of some baubles she found and also that she interfered with one of your plots. Pity about Malcolm, but he was not a very nice character.”
“You’re the scholar.”
“Archivist,” he corrected. “There’s food and water over there, sir,” he said. With that, he stepped back, and an armed man shut the door, leaving Six standing there.
Sighing, he sat down on the bed with its straw for a mattress and drank some of the water. At least the primitives hadn’t simply killed him out of hand. The food was a bowl of still-warm porridge, tasteless but filling. He ate that, too, before lying down and trying to sleep in the dim light that leaked through the cracks around the door.
Now, he stretched and wondered what was going to happen next.
____________________________________________________
HARI-9
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It was about 1200 hours, and Bonchance was still asleep. He had had the inspiration to use the Ape and, with its borer and saw attachments, he had carved cells into the walls of a new side tunnel off the main West Tunnel. All the militia that were cleared access had been knocking together doors and beds, and so they had all ten of their prisoners secured. Now, he was exhausted, and HARI-9 had to figure out what came next.
She looked over at her chief bodyguard, “Simon. I need you and David to accompany me to meet our guests; no visible Old World tech. I’ll also need a stool from the residence.”
“Of course, milady.”
She proceeded down the elevator and waited until her bodyguards had arrived.
“Which one, milady?”
“The strike team leader. Let’s start with him.”
____________________________________________________
O’NEILL
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The bar door rattled and slid aside as the door swung open, revealing two tough-looking men in primitive clothing and carrying revolvers; one incongruously was also holding a wooden stool in one hand.
“Right there is fine,” a woman’s voice said from behind them. “Put it down there, and sir, you may want to sit at the back of your cot so my men don’t get worried. We don’t want them worried about my safety. It would be unpleasant.”
Nodding, Six scooted so his back was against the far wall.
“It’s safe, milady,” the man who had not held the stool said.
“Thank you.”
The woman slipped between the two and set herself down on the stool. She was tall and quite attractive with dark brown skin and eyes and thick black hair. She wore a very nice dark blue dress and jacket that she adjusted modestly.
“You are the Duchess?” Six asked. “Are my men…?”
“They’re completely unharmed…And yes, I am. Formally, it’s Duchess Edgerton, but I prefer my old title of Master Sergeant more.”
“So, you were a soldier.”
She nodded, “For quite a few years. Then things happened, and all of a sudden, I’m nobility. Not bad for a primitive. Do you have a name?”
Six shrugged; that wasn’t going to matter. “Lowen, David Lowen.”
“I would say it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Master Lowen, but considering the circumstances that brought you here, that would be a lie,” she said with a shrug.
Lowen laughed, “You have the understatement of a good NCO. Yeah, I’d agree…and you don’t need that ‘Master’ stuff. I’m just Lowen.”
“Then I’m Edgerton. So, the reason we’re having this talk is that I want to check on some things…You were deployed from what used to be called Guernsey, Wyoming, correct?”
Lowen kept his face perfectly calm, “Where?”
“Ah, I see. So that was incorrect. Hmm, alright, you are part of a much larger group attempting to manipulate us, though…That’s correct, isn’t it?”
How did she know this? “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I see…” she looked pensive. “it seems that my information was pretty damn poor. Still, I wonder how we caught you? It wasn’t as if we knew you were coming and the exact techniques you would use…How could we?”
Lowen felt a sudden chill.
“That could only mean we have access to certain information sources that the primitives couldn’t hope to match. Which means…”
“This was a trap…” Lowen gasped. “Who are you?”
“Master Sergeant Mara Edgerton, Intelligence. Currently pretending to be a primitive Duchess.”
“Is this Ares? Diana?”
She slowly shook her head, “Now, that would be telling, Sergeant Lowen. You see, I didn’t come to get anything from you; we have all the nav data from your Blower, after all, along with your current encryption cycle and rotating keys. That pilot of yours…and your Crew Master Chief, Tommy, was it? Well, they were very helpful. Especially the pilot…”
“Goddammit, Riggins!”
She just kept going, “…so I really on stopped by to let you know how screwed you are.” She stood up and stepped back past her escorts. “We’ll chat again, though, Sergeant.”
The one guard recovered the stool before the door was shut and secured, leaving Lowen to stew alone. All he could think about was how this entire Duchy had been a trap, and Command had completely fallen for it.
_____________________________________________________
HARI-9
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Simon had waited until they were well away from the cell doors before he spoke, “Did you get what you needed?”
She nodded, “We have Riggin’s name, voice print, and retinal, as well as a few other useful things. Is the smudge ready?”
“Affirmative. That woodlot is ready to go.”
“Then it’s time to contact Clea and let her know the diversion is ready. Wake up Lord Bonchance, would you?”