Bulletfoot One

by Marshall Rust

  Hammerhand studied the scans for a few more seconds before he bit his bottom lip. Tinker said he always did that when he thought but it didn’t stir the need to try to stop it. The thought was more important than the accompanying action, after all. "I have scans coming in that show mechs patrolling the area around it. The approach is defended, and even if we could break through the ground defenses, every step up would be hampered by people firing down at us. It’s not the best situation to attack, although certainly better than the one we would face if we assaulted the main entrance."

  "Agreed," the Prophet replied, likely having noticed the same movements he had. "I would say attacking at night would give us some advantage. To be able to scale the walls without being seen would likely be the best tactical decision for us to choose."

  He shook his head quickly. "It’s possibly the best tactical decision in the long term, but not the short."

  "What do you mean?"

  "A night attack would likely give us an advantage in the short-term but in the long-term, it would be seen as a foreign invasion by a foreign enemy—Knights Mechanica and Desert Warriors attacking their base. There's nothing like a foreign threat to raise defensive morale and make them fight harder."

  "So, your tactical suggestion would be to attack in broad daylight in hopes that it will not be seen as invading forces?"

  "They'll know who is attacking and the word will spread faster. That way, they will know it is the people of Auburn and their defenders fighting to regain their land. Otherwise, it will allow their leaders to twist the narrative and make it seem like an invading force."

  "I suppose this is true enough. However, we would not be able to break into that mesa using force of numbers alone. There would need to be tactical alterations to this, those that would allow some advantage if not surprise."

  "It is likely that surprise will still be on our side, but there will be an element of trickery to it. The Knights and our Auburn allies could present as the first line of attack, make a show of assaulting the stronghold, and when it fails, fall back quickly. When we retreat, they would be forced to pursue and leave an opening for the rest of the force to slip in behind them and attack the mesa."

  The Prophet didn't respond for almost a full minute, possibly while exploring the likelihood of an attack like that working. "Very well. It shows ingenuity and planning that would make our enemies think twice about how they conduct their operations. I like this. Let us make it so and discuss the details of how it shall be done."

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  There were a great many details involved in launching an attack on a well-defended position, and Hammerhand had to admit it wasn't his strength. It was like Tinker had told him—their strength lay in being able to strike at mostly unprotected locations quickly, hit them hard, and move on before any retaliation could be mounted.

  It was what kept the Knights alive and prospering while in the areas infested by raiders, who had no sense of how to defend themselves properly and knew only how to attack from numerical superiority.

  He did know a thing or two about mounting defenses and even a proper attack, which was how they had surmounted a few middling defenses they had come up against. But something like this that had been set up to be defended in the long-term? He was out of his depth. Tinker had a better mind for it, however, and talked to the Prophet and the other commanders of their troop to determine how it should be conducted.

  "All right. All teams, listen up!" Tinker called and opened a comm line with the whole group. He brought the march to an almost instant halt. "We will assault the mesa ahead of us in the next few hours and coordination will be important. You'll all need to know your positions and your roles. The details and your places in them will be sent to every mech individually. From this point forward, there will be complete radio silence since the closer we get to them, the more likely it will be that they will be able to intercept our comms or even realize that encrypted comm lines are deployed close to them. That will be enough for alarms to be raised."

  The Prophet said a few words over the comms as well, likely repeating what he had been said in a language some of the others could understand. Most spoke the same language they did, but some had difficulties with terminology and others spoke another language altogether, with running translation required for solid communication to be possible.

  Hammerhand didn't mind. They were a cohesive group that appeared to want the same thing. He did harbor a few doubts, but those were kept close to his chest for the moment. They still needed the Prophet and his troops and offending them for no reason would be the very definition of self-sabotage.

  The messages were sent and from the battle plan that had been drawn up, he would lead the first charge, which would inevitably be a feint. It made sense, he acknowledged, given that an Excalibur charging their front lines would catch their attention to the point where any thought that it could be a trap was forgotten. The chances were, if they didn't respond to the assault as expected, the Knights could thin the lines of their enemies before they called for a retreat, thus forcing more troops from the top of the mesa to descend to support the counterattack.

  Obviously, it was rare that such plans worked out exactly the way they had been devised. There was no telling what might go wrong in the middle of the fight and what kind of alterations would need to be made.

  Until then, they would have to plan for failure while hoping for success. Besides, there was nothing to say that they couldn't bring comms up again when the battle started. The surprise would already be gone and they could coordinate better.

  Hammerhand noted Tinker walk toward him, and the smaller mech moved smoothly through the ranks that prepared for combat.

  "What's on your mind, my friend?"

  The mechanic huffed over the comms. "Don't 'my friend' me. And how did you know I was angry? Or that there was something on my mind?"

  "Well, the fact that you came all the way to me with a full head of steam says you're angry and that you plan to give me a piece of your mind, which means you have something on it. Do enlighten me."

  "Well, I think the plan is, for lack of a better word, shit. It's a shit plan, Hammerhand, and from what the Prophet told me, it was your idea. Oh, and we need a better name for the man than 'The Prophet.' I'm tired of calling him that. There must be a real name we can use if we're not a part of his…one of his followers."

  "I agree with that, but it doesn't seem wise to ask the man for his name rather than his title when that's what all the others call him. At least for the moment. It could cause offense."

  "Well, as long as we're not trying to offend the man."

  "Do you think it would be wise to sabotage our alliance with the only fighters in the area who have the numbers to help us in this endeavor?"

  Tinker didn't reply, which was all he needed to hear.

  "For the moment, let's not do anything that could put that relationship at risk. With that in mind, what was it about the plan that you thought was absolute shit?"

  "I didn't say absolute. I only said shit."

  "Carry on, then."

  Tinker paused for a few seconds to collect his thoughts. "Well, the plan itself is decent enough. I would have called for a night assault myself since success would be more important than how that attack was seen by those we attacked. Even so, I understand the thinking behind it."

  "I assume there is more to it than that?"

  "I don't like the fact that our Knights and the Auburnites will be at the front lines and take most of the risk and responsibility on ourselves. I don't like it."

  "How do you mean?"

  "I mean that we're the only ones taking a risk. If the Prophet decides he doesn't want to risk his men in the attack, we'll be left with most of the losses at the end of it and holding the bag besides. I don't trust them enough."

  "In a fight like this, especially with the coordination required, trust is a necessity. In everything we intend to do to fight against FEMA City, we will need to
trust each other. Establishing that is fundamental, and in knowing they’ll have our backs and them knowing we'll have theirs, all future attacks will be the better for it."

  Tinker continued to stare at him and glared through the faceplate of his mech. There was something about the man's anger that drove Hammerhand to continue. He didn't want to disappoint his friend.

  "However, should there be something that goes wrong in the attack—should we not be able to hold their counterattack off, or should…our allies not come through in the way we need them to—there is already a retreat plan in place that we'll institute when the time comes. This will be a test of whether our new allies can be trusted or not as well."

  The silence continued from the mechanic’s side for a few more seconds. "So you…made plans in case the worst should happen?"

  "Of course. I wouldn't risk the lives of the Knights Mechanica or those loyal to us without having a plan for their protection in place."

  "Well, that's all I needed to know."

  "Are we clear on this? Is there anything else you need?"

  "No, I don't think so."

  "Then let's get ready for a fight."

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  She made her mind up not to leave him alone.

  Not after what they had seen in the pit outside of town. It had probably been covered by now, but the memories of it remained rather vividly in her mind. She could think about nothing else for the rest of the day.

  Something about winning a battle had left her feeling elated. She’d been exhausted immediately after, of course, but still filled with elation that she had fought on the right side of the battle and walked away with the victory. While timely help had been needed for that to happen, it had still happened, and she had been absolutely sure that she had been on the right side of it.

  And while that was still how she felt, her confidence was shattered. Would the people in the right elect to summarily execute the prisoners they had captured during the battle?

  If she were in the position Mayor Jones was in, would she have made the same decision? Hundreds of different scenarios rushed through her mind as she thought about it. Maybe it had been a decision made with resources in mind. Feeding and treating prisoners might have been seen as a waste, while they couldn't simply release them.

  But why didn't they use the captives who were in good enough shape to help with the workload? Jones constantly went on about how much work there was to do, so why not spread the labor to those who could help and make up for their role as the aggressors in the battle?

  No matter how she looked at it, there was no justification for what had been done, and the more she thought about it, the more it appeared that she was in the wrong. Or, at least, those she had fought with were in the wrong and she had thrown in with that, which made her culpable by extension.

  Not a word had been shared between her, Mini, or Robert7 as they made their way to where the mayor had told her someone with medical expertise could treat him. And as much as she wanted to help and make sure he was safe and recovering, the images of the pit constantly returned. Thankfully, they located the medics, who removed the man from her back and took him into one of the makeshift canvas structures.

  The stark and vivid images were the kind that made her lean over and throw up the remains of her last meal, thankfully into the mud outside the medical tents and not her cockpit. She worried that someone might try to hurt Robert7 while she was away, but her fears proved groundless. They fitted a splint to his injured leg and applied better bandaging to the cuts and scrapes.

  The nervous and sometimes downright hostile looks the man received from the other people in the tent made her remove him as soon as the medical team completed their treatment. While she couldn't expect them to see Robert7 in a friendly light, she had to remind herself that not all of them would react by marching him to a pit and shooting him.

  They left the tents and paused for a moment. Jessica13 had no idea where she could possibly take him and know he would be safe. Mini didn't have any suggestions either, and her prisoner seemed lost and confused. All she knew was that she wouldn’t turn him over to be shot and thrown in a ditch like the others. She couldn't stand even the thought of that.

  Eventually, though, she needed to ask the question she had dreaded from the moment when they had left the medical post.

  "Where to now?"

  Robert7 looked around, unsure of how to answer.

  Mini appeared to have a couple of ideas, at least from the sudden spike in his core temperature. "Do you think you could return to work and keep Robert7 employed at your side to help clear debris from the town?"

  "With an injured leg? How the hell is he supposed to recover?"

  "His recovery time could be hampered far worse should he be killed."

  "Now? You think now is the time to be facetious?"

  "I think the term is 'accurate.'"

  "Maybe we should have a chat to Mayor Jones about it."

  "That might be unwise, given that those militia members likely acted under his orders. Remember how he went to lead them?"

  "Even so, we could talk to him to confirm that we have all the facts and make sure he was involved. If that is the case, maybe we can convince him that killing all the prisoners is a bad idea. We could point out that they could help us with the work, make up for their actions and, in the end, earn the goodwill of the people they injured. Something like that."

  "Do you really believe it is possible?"

  "I have to…"

  Her voice trailed off. An odd sound issued from the center of town, where most of the living areas had been set up. It sounded very much like what came from a machine that was overworked and under-oiled—the kind of roar she had learned to dread.

  Mini initiated a quick scan. "In case you are wondering—"

  "I am."

  "The sounds are human in origin. A great many humans, their voices raised in what I have learned to interpret as anger and violence."

  That brought no encouragement or assurance. Jessica13 shook her head as she strode deeper into the town and kept Robert7 close to her. He was in better shape and was able to maintain his perch on the magnetic clamp on her back as they hurried forward.

  "What the…fuck?"

  His voice hauled her to an immediate halt. The signs around them indicated that the shouting had at least started in the area they were in. It was a small square between the residential buildings that had been partially damaged in the battle. At this point, it looked mostly abandoned, but the state of destruction was recent. Where small stalls and selling points for vendors once stood, piles of sticks and tarp were all that remained. The structures had been demolished, torn apart, and set on fire, although the flames hadn't lasted for very long.

  "A mob," Robert7 muttered.

  "What was that?"

  "It would appear that a mob was formed," Mini explained. "They destroyed the stalls in this square and attacked the vendors themselves."

  "What happened to the people?"

  Mini didn't answer, and she thought about it for a few moments before she realized that his silence probably meant the answer was obvious. She fought her growing reluctance and forced herself to look at the partially damaged buildings around them. While part of her expected the worst, she still wasn’t fully prepared for the reality

  Four bodies hung from ropes around their necks. Like macabre necklaces, wooden plaques with rough words carved into them were strung around their necks to rest on their chests.

  Her hand trembled as she zoomed in a little to see what was written on them as the dead vendors were almost twenty feet off the ground.

  One of them read informer. Two others had traitor carved deeply into the wood, and the last looked like they spelled out collaborator.

  It wasn't surprising that the stalls had been emptied of all the supplies the vendors had been selling. A couple of people still sifted through the remains of the structures, trying to find something useful. They didn't look e
ven vaguely bothered by the bodies that were suspended over the square.

  In fact, Jessica13 walking around in her Minato caught their attention more than the dead did—either her or the man on her back. The looks were a little more hostile than they had been at the medical tents. A couple of them muttered something she couldn't hear, although she could guess that it wasn't good.

  None of them was armed, however, and no one appeared to have anything that might be used as a weapon. While they didn't appear to be in the mood to challenge one of the Knights Mechanica in a mech, they weren't happy to see the man there. If she left him alone for so much as a second, they would happily tear him to pieces and string him up like the apparent traitors, informers, and collaborators.

  That wouldn’t happen, though, and not only because she had no intention to leave him. The looters seemed to lose interest and began to move away from the square, drawn by an unmistakable roar that confirmed the presence of the mob close by. More people were likely being strung up for helping the FEMA invaders, or maybe for helping Athena or her cretins, and it didn't sound like the townsfolk went about it pleasantly.

  Jessica13 didn't want to get involved, but if she had a propensity for gambling, she would have to guess that Mayor Jones was somewhere in or near the mob.

  If he wasn't leading them in their frenzy, she reminded herself. That was always possible.

  She could ask Mini to run the numbers for her, but that would merely delay the inevitable. If she wanted to put a stop to all this or at least get an idea of what they tried to accomplish, she needed to chat to the mayor before things escalated and became more serious than they already were.

  "I suppose I should ask you why we are moving closer to the noise," Mini commented as she strode forward.

  "We need to talk to Mayor Jones, and that's likely where he'll be."

  "You do know that they will not take you protecting Robert7 lightly? The chances are, with the numbers that remain, they would be able to overwhelm you—and that's assuming they don't have a handful of mechs with them.”