A thousand wheels spun within wheels, covered with eyes gazing into the infinite. They hurtled through the air, a simple directive in their primitive half-minds. They whizzed along the ground, the angry buzzing of the drone swarm composing a song of death. They did not think. They were created with simple pattern recognition only. If it looked like the enemy, it was the enemy. Terminate it, and terminate all life signs near it, then return to base. Mistakes would be made. Mistakes were inevitable when combating the threat. It was very efficient, though, and the terror campaign of the locals had to stopped. An icy detonation. All local targets have ceased life functions. It was a very humane way of doing things. It made mistakes, yes, but the cold, heartless eyes were more discriminating than the bombs and bullets.

On June 22nd, 2026, Raytheon, in partnership with Thales, rolled out the Electronic Land-based Shocktrooper Automaton, the first model in a new generation of drone warfare.

Squadrons of men went door to door, searching for weapons and other illicit items. Weapons, mines, anything that was a sign of resistance. Those who were caught were brutally punished. Sedition could not be tolerated. If the doors were at risk of being booby-trapped, break through the window. If those too, were likely to be trapped, make a new door. Register and disarm the population. Ensure they do not have the means to vent their anger.

Divide and conquer. Those who despised their country, or who were greedy for power were squirreled out. These men were given strength, so that they might oppress their countrymen for them. They were more familiar with the land, and thus more effective. Splinter their identity, for a bundle of sticks is stronger than fifty standing alone. Turn neighbor against neighbor, and poison their trust.

Win their hearts. Promise a better life once the war is over. It does not matter if it is true. Build for them, a thousand petty things. Armies could build forts and bridges, why not other things?

Try everything. The spirit of the people must be broken. The people must not sing.

Mines, crude things, were laid along the roads. When the wires were tripped, the bombs would explode and spray shrapnel over whatever hapless fool stepped on it. If they took the time to clear the road, it was a chance to harry them. Launch desperate, suicidal attacks if needed. If one man can reach the wagons with flame and starve ten or twenty, then was it not worth it? Burn their supplies. Burn your food. Why not? You wouldn't need food where you were going. The mountains, the hills, the plains, they would all have eyes. The Ottoman Sultan offered a suggestion. With burning ships, if a skeleton crew was kept on the boat as it was set to ram, the boats would be far more effective, even if the crew was guaranteed to perish. The same could be done with smaller payloads. If the bomb killed many, was it not more cost-effective than facing the formidable skills of Napoleon in open combat? Of course, those that seemed innocent or pure would have to deliver the strikes. But how could one die better than facing fearful odds?

When blood flows like water, then the sea cannot be stopped. If you keep the tide from breaking, it will break you instead.

1811 came rolling in.