I always knew my brother-in-law was a fucking idiot who was going to get me killed, and I was right.
When my sister insisted I hire him for my crew, I swore — not at her, Mom had raised me better than that, but under my breath. And I did so again any time I thought about it for weeks afterwards. He was such a drunk, useless moron. Why she had gotten herself knocked up by that idiot, and why she had conned him into marrying her, I'll never know. She insisted I needed more help, and she was right, but I should have stuck to my guns. I was just such a sucker when she screwed up her face and started pleading with me like that. Sam, please, he just needs a chance. You’ll see, he’ll do fine!
It was a late night job, and we were working ourselves to the bone, trying to clean up at a job site near Birmingham. An F2 tornado had come through, smashing dozers and knocking over a crane.
I'd worked my ass off to build up my company after I got out on medical discharge, and even so, it was a hand-to-mouth operation. If I could just keep the trucks and the wrecker running for a couple months, a couple jobs in a row, maybe I'd have been able to get the bills paid and start building a nest egg.
And that fucking moron backed a motherfucking dozer right over me.
I can still hear the sound of my own bones crunching and the shriek of aluminum as that stupid metal leg that I'd brought home from Afghanistan was crushed under a couple tons of heavy equipment. What a fucking idiot.
Still not sure if I meant him or me.
Serves that fucker right. He's going to have to explain it to the cops. And to Gina, and I hope she ditches his ass for it.
And then I woke up — somewhere else.
Angelica raised her sword to block the incoming blast from the Red Widow. The force of it washed over her, slamming against her chest and throwing her back. She hit the ground and bounced, skidding across the pavement, and into a pile of rubble. Bricks ground painfully into her back and shoulders.
She burned istota to keep a grip on her sword. Gritting her teeth, she called on her charger. Her link was the only part of her that didn’t hurt. She could see through its eyes, even with her own tight shut against her pain.
Her own mech, five meters tall and resplendent in the Kingdom of Poland's silver and blue, stomped forward, its foot steps shaking the debris that littered the ruined city street around her. Angelica had never met the Red Widow before, but her presence was as terrifying as her reputation. She wore black leather pants with a long red uniform tunic and overcoat, her chest festooned with Imperial Russian medals and commendations, a small black cap on her head. She stood in front of a mech bigger than Angelica’s charger, all dark metal and sharp spikes, with a red hourglass painted on its chest. The Widow’s Venom was as infamous as she was. It was armed with an auto cannon. Why wasn’t she using it? Angelica wondered as she struggled to get up again.
The Russian woman raised her hands again and sent a wave of force that slammed into Angelica’s mech, sending it flying back across the pavement. It smashed shoulder-first into the edge of a ruined house and was buried in a shower of brick and wood.
Through the link, Angelica felt the mech’s right elbow twist. She cried out. The link muted some of the pain. It was still excruciating.
She had to get up, or she would die.
Angelica rolled over and got her knees under her. She reached for her charger through the link. Other than the broken arm, and some dents from the earlier battle, it felt undamaged. It had lost its auto cannon, but the weapon had already been out of ammunition.
“Surrender. You’ve lost. Accept the inevitable, and I'll let you live," the Widow’s voice commanded.
Angelica didn't believe that for a moment. The witch couldn't be trusted. Her mech bore fifteen little black silhouettes on its chest. Fifteen chargers and their pilots killed. How many more would she add today? Four? Five?
None for me.
She staggered to her feet, sword dangling from her hand.
Overhead, another volley of rockets slammed into the side of the Royal Aircruiser Lightning. The huge airship shuddered under the blast. An entire turret broke free and fell into the city below, but at least it hadn’t caught fire yet.
The aircruiser couldn’t take much more of this. They had to get out of the area; they wouldn’t be able to help her. The rest of her hussar wing was nowhere to be seen and Angelica didn’t know how many of them had survived the barrage earlier.
Already, the Red Widow was preparing another force wave. Angelica didn’t stand a chance. The next blast would end her.
Angelica struggled for the strength to raise her blade and block one more time. The blade was huge, twice as long as her own body, and able to cleave all the way through a charger mech in one hit, provided she could summon the focus.
She reached inside to find her last spark of istota reserve. This was her only shot.
But it was too late.
The Red Widow swung both arms forward, unleashing the blast she had been preparing. Dust and debris blasted to the side along the street as the wave tore straight at Angelica.
Just before it hit her, it slammed into a shimmering wall of force.
Hannah was here, and not a moment too soon. “Angelica, move! I can’t hold her!”
Angelica reached for her istota and raised her sword up into a ready position. Without being able to magically enhance her strength, she would’ve been barely able to lift it.
The Red Widow was uninjured. Her troops had worn down Angelica and crushed her entire team as the Widow hung back, waiting for the fatal moment. Angelica and Hannah might be the only ones still alive. They had to get out of here. They had to get back to the ship.
She swung her sword, cutting low and slicing into a slab of concrete. The wave of force from her strike blasted into the concrete and flipped the slab up and over, straight at the Widow. There was a deafening crack and an explosion of dust and chunks of rubble.
Angelica dashed towards Hannah without waiting to see if the Widow had survived. "Go, go, go!" They tore off down the street. "Did any of the others—?” she gasped. She thought she might have cracked a rib.
"No!" Hannah’s voice cracked. “It’s just us.”
Hannah had always been too soft for this. Oh, she was good at shields, all right, but Angelical always thought she didn't have what it took to be a soldier. Ironic, that the rest of the squadron, two wings of hardened soldiers, were gone and only little Hannah left.
They swung around the corner, two blocks from where they had left the Red Widow. Surely, she would be after them soon. How quick was that mech of hers? Angelica's own charger came stomping up behind her. Its right forearm dangled limp, and it had lost its autocannon. She took quick stock through her link. The right shoulder rocket launcher was there but dented and she couldn’t feel its status. There were only two shots left in the left launcher. Would the mech be any use at all?
Probably not. Maybe she should sacrifice it as a distraction. The thought tore at her. Being without her partner was physically painful. Their link let them share their lives, her own spark and the spark that powered the metal automaton.
“Look!” Hannah cried. “No!”
Angelica spun around just as a final volley slammed into their aircruiser as it hovered in the air above the town. Hull plates ripped all down the side. The aft battery exploded in a dazzling fireball. The entire ship shuddered and lurched in the air, staggering like a fighter after a knockout blow. Slowly, it pitched over, nose down, and fell towards the city below.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The airship slammed into a city block a quarter mile away, throwing up balls of fire as the carrier’s ordnance exploded, probably igniting gas mains. A plume of dust and debris from crushed masonry and pulverized wood billowed up over the tiled roofs of the two- and three-story buildings in this section of town.
Hannah’s eyes filled with tears. “Do you think any of the crew made it out? What do we do now?”
“Hush, let me think.” If they swung around, they could head back towards the crash site. But what was the point? There’d be no help there, and little chance they’d be able to help any survivors. Their captain had left orders to regroup at the armory at the edge of town if they got separated.
“We’re going south, to the rendezvous.”
“Will anyone be there?”
“Probably not, but those are our orders.”
Her mech had caught up with them, and Angelica leaped up onto its shoulder, using her istota as casually as breathing to propel her jump.
Leaping a dozen feet in the air was nothing to a properly trained Hussar. She landed on its shoulder, her shoes getting grip on the textured rubber pad. What really kept her mounted was magya, and the link between her and her mech. Once she landed and planted her feet on the shoulder of her mech, she was one with it, like she was welded there.
No one could dislodge her unless she willed it. Unless she decided to let go.
"Come on!" She held a hand down for Hannah to climb up. "Where's your mount?”
“My mech was destroyed in the last attack. The one that got Lieutenant Maria." She was close to crying.
"Snap out of it! We have to move. There’ll be time for tears later." She braced herself and willed her charger to move off down the ruined street.
Sirens wailed. Shots rang out in the distance. The town of Rzescow lay in ruins around them. Maybe her wing had bought some time for the inhabitants to flee. They’d had no warning of the Russian attack, barely time to get their mechs deployed before the Widow’s troops were there, bringing fire and death to the border town.
The captain was gone. Angelica had seen his armored car hit in the first barrage, and Senior Lieutenant Maria as well. That left Angelica herself in command of the squadron, all two remaining members of it. The realization hit her hard. They weren’t fleeing, they were retreating, and she had a duty to rescue Hannah and her own mech if she could. She had to preserve the squadron, no matter what shape it was in.
Her charger gathered speed as its piston-driven legs slammed into the pavement, thud, thud, thud, thud. Its arm still dangled limply, throwing the balance off. The extra girl on her other shoulder didn't help. It took all of Angelica’s focus to keep steering it down this road, dodging between broken buildings and shattered hulks of armored cars and other war machines.
Dead soldiers lay scattered everywhere. Ahead at the intersection, they smashed through an enemy patrol of six men. Regular infantry stood no chance against the mech and the machine gun crew scattered, not even taking time to try to set up their weapon before dropping their equipment and running. That was the appropriate response for normal troops when a Hussar arrived. If the squad had a prepared machine gun nest supported by riflemen, they might’ve been a threat to her and her charger. Taken by surprise they wouldn’t stand a chance.
Still, Angelica was surprised just how many enemy troops were in the city. How could the scouts not have seen this coming? How could a force this large have gotten this close to the city without someone noting and sending up the alarm?
They rounded another corner and passed a Polish squad who had taken cover in the ruins of a wrecked tobacconist’s shop. It tore at her heart as they cried out to her for help. If she stopped to help them, they would all be wiped out.
From her perch on the other shoulder, Hannah slumped against the charger's head and started to sob. Angelica gritted her teeth but could not bring herself to scold her fellow Hussar. It was too much. Leaving their own troops behind went against everything she stood for. But there was no time. She had to get what was left of her wing out of the city.
“Head west!” she called to the soldiers as they passed. “Stay off the main roads.”
The Russians would certainly occupy the city’s main intersections until they consolidated their control. Her countrymen might have a chance if they slipped out now and headed for the Polish forces to the west.
This surprise attack surely wasn't the only one. This was nothing but one battle in a larger war. A dastardly ambush by Imperial Russia — and probably a successful one. The polish losses she shouldn’t guess but their lines were broken. Angelica’s duty was to fall back, regroup, and rejoin the army wherever she could. Alone, with one damaged charger, they stood no chance. Even a regular enemy platoon, properly armed and prepared, would be able to eliminate the remains of her wing.
Almost on cue, an enemy armored car rounded the corner in front of them. It was too late to stop or even slow down. She commanded her charger to leap.
Her own legs burned as her mech expended its dwindling desh reserves. It didn't have enough to clear the armored car. Instead, she turned the jump into an attack. Steel crumpled as her mech's legs smashed into the side of the roof, crushing the car and rolling it over.
She managed to keep her mech moving, jumping off the crushed remains of the car, landing on the street in a crouch. Her charger stood up and cleared the intersection at a run. The crumpled enemy vehicle slid to a stop behind them. A few shots were fired by the accompanying soldiers, but Angelica felt the air ripple as Hannah shielded them both.
A few blocks later, the fighting seemed to be behind them. All around lay bodies, burned-out vehicles, and ruined buildings. The attack had moved towards the city center, which meant the armory must’ve already been overrun. They met no more soldiers, either friend or foe.
Plumes of smoke rose in the direction of the base, but it was her only hope. There had to be something left. Survivors, equipment, anything that would let them rally and hopefully counterattack.
They came around the last corner and found the gates of the base hanging broken. Her heart sank.
Wrecked Polish vehicles had been pushed off the side of the road. A single Russian armored car sat split open. Bodies lay scattered everywhere, mostly Polish. The base had been overrun. There were no sign of the Russians. She had to hope they had moved on after taking the objective.
She slowed her charger slightly as they staggered through the gates, past the bodies and burned-out vehicles. Only a week before, she had walked through this gate for the first time, returning the salute of the man in the guardhouse. The same man whose legs she saw sticking out of the door, whose puddle of blood she stepped through.
She couldn't bear the thought. Hannah lay slumped against the charger’s head, almost catatonic. Angelica continued pushing forward into the remains of the base. Everywhere lay bodies and destruction, smoke and ash and ruin.
They headed down the main street, past the burning barracks and towards the mech hangars. If anything was left to salvage, that’s where it would be. As they came to the wide stretch of tarmac that marked the mech parade grounds, a sight finally lifted her spirits. An intact armored support car, with a familiar unit marking on the side. Someone from the Lightning had made it here.
Could it be? She dared not hope, but as they approached, the doors of the maintenance shed opened. Warrant Officer First Class Alexander Pjyorna stepped out. He must have come to try to get resupply from the base and been trapped here by the attack.
The relief on his face was like the rising of the sun. "You made it! Lieutenant Angelica! Hannah!” He looked behind them and his face crumpled. "Is it only you?"
Angelica nodded. Her throat tightened so much that she couldn't speak. She climbed down from the charger's shoulders and stepped over towards him. Hannah slid off the other side. For a moment she thought Alexander would embrace her, but he held himself back.
"We have to get what we can and get out of here," she said through clenched teeth, somehow keeping her voice from cracking. She had to be strong. She had to salvage what she could and get them out of here. Maria was dead. She was the ranking officer now. "And you? Are there any others?"
He shook his head.
“Surprise was total. The base was overrun before anyone put up a decent resistance. I was over by the warehouses and kept my head down until the fighting moved off to the north. I’ve been hearing fire from that way, so someone is giving them trouble. But we can’t delay. The Russians will be back to mop up survivors once they clean up the serious defense.”
The rest of her support crew would have been on the Lightning when it went down. She couldn't take the time to mourn them. Later, if she lived.
“We have to get what we can and get out of here. We have to salvage whatever we can of the wing.” She was surprised at the firmness in her voice. Fragmented though it was, a Hussar wing was too important to throw away here. Poland needed them to get clear and regroup.
Alexander gestured to the open hangar doors. Inside, one of the massive charger support haulers was ready to go. The crane over its bed held another charger draped in cloth. Hopefully it was mostly intact. Anything that had been left in the maintenance shed would have been down for maintenance or repair.
“I’m almost loaded," Alexander said. "We can get out of here. But…” he looked around in despair and spread his arms. "With just the three of us, how will we—" He trailed off, but Angelica understood.
It took an entire crew to maintain the five chargers of a Hussar wing, to say nothing of a team to drive the hauler and maintain its equipment. If they could get her charger repaired and another one up and running for Hannah, maybe they would have a chance. But they just didn’t have the manpower. Even if Hannah pulled together, even with Angelica working under Alexander’s directions, they didn’t have enough hands.
A desperate thought sprang to mind. “Is the Anima engine working?”
Alexander nodded. “Yes, I checked it earlier. But there's almost no anima left. We could get one golem at most, but that's it. We need a whole team.”
“Give me a moment.” She quickly went through the mental checklist she had been building. “We have one damaged charger, one armored support car, a mobile charger support hauler with two riders and an engineering warrant officer. We have to turn that into a minimally functioning wing of Hussars. We can handle the endoskeleton, motive and vehicle maintenance between ourselves, but we need to cover the mechanic, armorer, and sapper specialties...”
“And a driver,” Alexander said. “I mean, I’ve driven one of these haulers once, but I can't maintain the engine and steer. I barely know how to put it in gear."
"Alright, we'll just have to put all of that in there and hope we can get it to—"
Alexander was shaking his head. "An Anima machine is not designed for that. The flesh golems may look like real people, but they only contain the skills that are loaded into them. To put that many different skills into one golem is—there's no way. Even if I turn off the safety overrides, we might end up with a slobbering vegetable, no use to us at all."
She gritted her teeth. "We have to try. Go fire up the machine. I'll meet you there. Maybe Heaven will bless us and we’ll get the greatest golem the Anima machines have ever produced.”