The afternoon was fast vanishing and Zhaoji was feeling pressured. His team were now deep into the city perimeter, moving quietly from building to building. Within the territory of the invader, however, the risk was quizzically lessened. There were drones floating about, strange claw-like metal balls, as well as the flying discs floating serenely down the odd street.
However, most of the northern part of the city was the edges of the town homes were destroyed, but here and towards the station a fair few still stood tall, the only signs of damage being shattered windows or missing rooftops.
As the drew further West they had seen the vast "shed" up close. And Zhaojie had realised it wasn't a shed.
It was a ship.
Huge, five hundred yards long at least. Taller than most buildings. It also wasn't quite "landed" - large legs jutted from it, braced against crushed buildings. And yet it seemed precariously balanced and sturdy at the same time. Ramps were open along its sides and one to the rear - though that was to the North and the entrance was not visible. The team had managed to hole up in a building which offered a view to the South, to the strange dome in gateshead.
They'd holed up, having brought the corpses with them to cover their tracks. Scouts had snuck onto the roofs of adjacent buildings and were hiding under discarded roof tiles and debris, watching for enemies and signals from the south.
Their problem was finding the device that Vahlen wanted. The vast Ship could possess one. Or one of the alien buildings alongside it - similar to some perverse adoption of a "dock".
One of his scouts reported that there appeared to be more of the walkers - larger three legged and smaller, squat spider-like walkers. However they appeared to be moving into the ship. The scout counted thirty. Zhaojie had gone pale and all the soldiers had taken a sombre view.
Thirty of the walkers. Where had they all come from? The answer presented itself when another scout reported seeing one advancing from the dome - they'd seen one depart earlier, heading toward their distraction. But apparently another had emerged from a large door in the dome's side. Which gave an answer as to the place's true purpose.
A factory.
Which meant that the northern base was, what? Corporal Essex had answered that one.
"Deployment, innit? They're using this place to ship those things further afield," Zhaojie had frowned and motioned for him to continue, "Well, we march all over the shop, but get trains, right? And we don't bloody well swim to the colonies now, do we? So hard to consider they do different?"
"These things came out of them shells they shot at us though," muttered another soldier. Essex had sighed.
"First deployment, right, vanguard. Like, y'know, how the first troops to an area are the skirmishers? Then you bring the whole kit and kaboodle in later slow-time. Wagons, material, cannons. Bet you a tin of beans that thing will be hefting those bloody things elsewhere."
"But where," rumbled Zhaojie, troubled. He shook himself and sighed, "No matter. It is another piece of an already overcomplex puzzle. Our mission is to identify the source of the transmissions and to secure it."
Jiayi had taken that moment to return from her watch and squatted down next to Zhaoji in the ruined receiving room. The squad were spread across the building, some keeping watch, most others grabbing what sleep they could. She leaned in and whispered, "We have spotted messaging lights from Hackett. Deliberate signals, just visible. They were signalling all along the ridge in case we were not yet in position."
"Confirmation it is them?"
"Correct code and cipher use, yes," Zhajoie nodded and gestured for her to continue, "They are in position near the dome, ready to assault. This will likely grant us our own distraction. Are they good to go?"
The large Chinaman pondered and pulled his map free. He'd drawn an overlay across the city where the vast ship had ruined great chunks of it, shading that in black pencil. They'd marked buildings clearly occupied by the invaders. Currently, the main body of the northern defenders were fighting what seemed an endless stream of the Lost, further east. The sounds of ululation from the walkers and explosions from several discs they'd spotted flying that direction had given credence to the idea that the Martians were not as unassailable as they'd thought. The Lost were fragile, but numerous. And also the Martians hadn't seemed to grasp the idea that noise was an issue. The loss of a walker had panicked them, on some level. Especially as it appeared to be unclear to the aliens whether it was a deliberate act or an accident. The patrols hadn't been looking for soldiers; instead they seemed confused, watching for things from the East.
He looked over the buildings and listened as another scout made a quiet report - one appeared to have some form of large mast, constructed by the aliens, atop it. That, it would seem, would be a good start. He knew telegraph masts and the wireless machines that Shen often spoke about utilised larger towers to project their "radio waves".
The risk was getting around the vast ship and then into the building. Especially with thirty nigh invulnerable walkers potentially ready to spring.
Well not invulnerable. But he doubted they'd all be so obliging as to walking into coal-dust and explosive laden buildings, ships or minefields.
"Tell Hackett to assault the dome, the factory. Damage as much as possible, then withdraw. Clear identification of extraction."
Jiayi shifted, "The message stated retreat was unlikely…. They have the insect things to the south."
Zhaojie chewed his cheek for a moment and nodded, "Assault, secure a defensible position, but they do need to identify extraction. A two pronged assault may cause the enemy confusion."
Essex leaned forwards, "They may have to divert troops from the Lost expedition. Means we may be seeing some o' them queer walking corpses. Which means they're fighting on three fronts."
Zhaojie nodded, "We will need to move swiftly and try to enable communication with the south. Jiayi, I want them to establish a communication signal with us, so we can advise them on the move. If they can free prisoners, arm them, that may allow them to withdraw back east to the ship."
They conversed for another ten minutes, outlining the strategy - it was bare bones, which was stressful for all. No soldier likes operating on back-of-a-fag-packet plans. It's why you brief, you detail, you make sure everyone is certain. But they hadn't that luxury on an elongated partisan fighting role deep in enemy territory.
Jiayi vanished to send the message and Zhaojie roused the troops. He briefed them quickly, outlining routes and directions towards the suspected signal tower. He gave them fifteen minutes to prepare.
As the men geared up Zhaojie offered a quiet prayer to his ancestors, hoping they would guide his steps this night.
Hackett sat at a broken kitchen table, looking at his stained map as he listened to the signaller relay the message. He nodded slowly, then checked the sketches his foray troops had made of the near edges of the fort-dome.
"We've got a bloody great door that walkers stomp out of, as well as little doors for the prisoners and maybe guards. Reckon it's better we risk the little doors."
He marked out some points on the map, detailing sniper and Maxim gun cover. Demo troops for breaching the walls and door. Then squad to move and take out the tower guards before they all bum-rushed the building.
"What do we do about Walkers, boss?"
"Run like a milkman found by the man of the house," joked a trooper. The Sergeant snorted.
"Glad you confirmed your parentage Robertson. Not quite though. Demo team, need you to get us some bomblets ready. We split when one of those buggers stomps around, get into cover. Heat ray seems to have a harder time with stone if it doesn't focus. Some blast force from the heat it generates, but it needs to really focus on you. So, split, then demo lads, you flank and strap some of them bombs to one of its legs."
The men goggled at him, "Excuse me, sir?"
"Well, that or make it so you can chuck them and they blow up good. Take out a leg and the things are just fancy statues with a horn on top. We haven't got much in the way of artillery aside from some rockets, so those will likely have to be another option. But they're a bugger to aim."
He went through the queries and another soldier gulped and asked a question, "What about fallback?"
Hackett sighed through his teeth, "Not much, got them spiny bastards to the east. Initial fallback on retreat is to here in the south of Gateshead. We regroup and replan from there. However, we need to push ahead, engage the enemy and secure a position inside that dome. Once inside we will be secure from Walkers and aerial attack. Not to say it won't be an arse inside, but we remove the enemy's core advantage."
A few more basic queries and he then dismissed them to do final kit checks.
Thirty minutes later his men were spread between wrecked buildings, snipers high as they could go. More sharpshooters, really, with crossbows ready.
He glanced up at his signalman who raised a hand and did a silent countdown. Five seconds later he heard the faint "thunk" of a crossbow and saw a tower guard on one of the watchtower go down. These Chinese boys were quiet as anything and had, apparently, gotten close enough to the watchtowers to use the bow-weapons or knives. His snipers were merely overwatch in case they ballsed up.
Which they didn't.
The two nearest towers were clear, both guards downed on each. With a wave, the rest of the men broke cover and moved, fast, across the broken terrain. The platoon sprinted and reached the dome's outer wall. They waited, breath baited.
No siren. No alarm. Yet.
The Chinese contingent appeared, dragging the corpses with them. Hackett regarded the strange uniforms and welding goggles. One of the men pulled the goggles up and swore as they saw the misshapen eyes beneath. The Sergeant sneered, then frowned in thought."
"You two, get them big coats on, them hats and them goggles. Maybe we can do some misdirection…"
Moments later, four members of the breach team had a mishmash of the alien uniform on. A search of the pockets produced a strange metal rod. It looked like it fit a hole aside one of the access doors. Hackett chuckled, "Aliens use keys. Wonders never cease."
The door hissed open and the four disguised men went in first. The alien weapons had looked eerily familiar to human hands - all wood and metal. So these four carried those guns, their own slung across their shoulders as fallbacks.
Behind, the snipers stayed in position, with one maxim team closing the gap to set up a position on one of the towers, hunkering down.
Inside the building things were, to not put too fine a point on it, creepy.
The corridor split left and right and was lit by sickly green light. There was no visible light source, it just seemed to glow with an eerie corridor appeared to be some sort of ring around the internal perimeter.
"Do we split up?" whispered one lance corporal. Hackett shook his head and pointed at three men, then at the door.
"Secure it, provide cover if the maxim lads and snipers need to pull back this way. Rest of you, left corridor. Let's get into this arsing nest in iniquity and sin, righto?"
The men filed down the corridor, a man with a shotgun taking point. The men with the disguises were close behind and the group drew up short only a hundred yards down the corridor. A metal door stood there, with no apparent hinges. There was, however, another slot for the strange metal rod. Hackett nodded and the point man opened the door. The troops held their breath as the four men with disguises took tentative steps through. They heard the collective gasps and Hackett shouldered his way to the front and peered through.
He had to blink in astonishment. This place wasn't just a dome.
It was a pit.
A good two hundred yards tall to the top of the dome, the floor of the pit stretch down at least another three hundred below street level. Platforms jutted out, some floating, some supported by spindly lengths of metal, forming a strange network of ringed pavilions which grew smaller as they descended, like a telescoping inverted cone made up of sliced layers. Above and around the dome were strange green pods, similar to those they'd found in London; except these seemed almost organic, glistening like wet leather.
At the top of the dome a trio of green orbs glistened, looking like the eyes of a dragonfly. Large spindle arms emerged from great machines set into the seam where the domed roof met the vast walls of the structure, the whine of hydraulics constant as the vast arms reached across the chasm and moved hunks of metal from layer to layer, or machine parts.
Each level of the spiral was packed with humans, working at benches or hammering at metal. As they watched, an arm plucked a worker from their station and hauled the figure away. The human struggled briefly, then went limp. The arm spun and slammed the figure into an open pod. It hissed shut and the sound of whirring machinery was heart, along with the crunch of flesh and squelch of meat.
The man next to Hackett lurched as if about to hurl. The Sergeant hissed at him and gestured for the men to fan out of the corridor.
Their doorway led to another walkway that ringed the pit. It was a good twenty feet wide and was covered in pallets of alien metal and supplies. As they watched a human staggered back from their workstation and collapsed. An arm descended and prodded the prone form, then retracted. High above, one of the glittering green orbs hissed open and a white sphere dropped down. It unfolded itself, revealing a hideous mass of cyclopean flesh and tentacles. Purple light wreathed it for a moment, before it flashed to the body on one of the lower rings. There was a low moan, somehow audible in the bone, and the body stood up, lurching back to its station where it continued hammering.
The white sphere folded back up again and the orb rose back. The faceted green sphere folded itself back around the white one and the alien vanished from view.
Hackett squinted and looked lower. At the base of the pit a massive derrick rocked back and forth, churning out black bile from the earth, as well as liquid silt. Spider-like walkers shovelled the muck into vast vats which were connected to the walls. Pipes ran from them to the level they were on, far across the room, where solid chunks of metal emerged from tubes and were deposited into hoppers. On the other side of the pit base there appeared to be some sort of assembly area where finished components were being assembled into what looked like a walker. As they watched a green hood was placed over the copper monster's cockpit and the thing lurched to life, strutting onto a platform. The platform rose, bringing the death-dealing machine to their level, albeit on the far side of the vast room. It clanked towards the far wall, which split open, revealing the outside world for a moment. The machine disappeared outside, then vanished as the vast doors clanged shut.
Already more material was being passed from level to level, refining as it descended to the floor to be forged into yet another monster.
A voice made their squad turn. A figure was moving, flanked by two more, around the perimeter of the room. It appeared to have spotted one of the disguised troops, "Nyeda piza foo?"
The man glanced sideways at Hackett, who was hidden behind a stacked pallet. The rest of the squad was similarly hidden for the moment. The sergeant nodded slowly and gestured for the man to do something. He hadn't expected these humans to, well, not be speaking English. But then again, they had just seen someone they thought was one of their own.
The disguised soldier hefted his looted alien rifles and tapped his ear shrugging exaggeratedly. This did not have the desired response as the advancing figure, wearing a red long-coat and face obscuring helmet, stopped suddenly and raised its rifle, yelling "CLAPPON!"
The disguised soldier paused and cocked his head, then tapped his head again. This seemed to confuse the onlooker a little more and the flanking alien soldiers glanced at what was clearly an officer. Hackett suppressed a chuckle - Ruperts, the same the universe over it seemed. Clueless.
He gestured to the Chinamen who were sneaking around, using the pallets as cover. At his nod, they leapt out. A crossbow bolt took the furthest soldier in the throat. A knife man lunged from behind cover and grappled the other guard to the ground, shanking as he went. The officer turned, shocked, then spun back to the disguised guard. He managed a "Mor Balat-" before the purloined rifle of the disguised trooper tore into him.
The weapon didn't belch smoke or crack like a rifle. It thrummed and made a repeated clack clack clack, electrical flashes bursting from its barrel, firing like a Maxim gun.
The enemy officer tumbled backwards pinwheeling across the floor. The soldiers stared, dumbfounded. Then one spoke.
"I want one of those!"
A couple of men darted forwards and retrieved the fallen alien's weaponry whilst across the factory floor things started happening.
The closest humans, those still alive, turned to watch, shocked. The reanimated ones continued on and there were a fair few. The arms continued moving but the nearest ones juddered to a halt. More soldiers, spread across the perimeter and scattered across the manufacturing platforms, were turning and pointing towards the sound, confusion not yet turning to panicked action.
The disguised trooper looked around and gestured to his fellows. They all shared a glance, but approached. Then the man turned and waved at the other soldiers, then pointed further along the perimeter run, towards another door. A few of the soldiers further away seemed to nod and began to run towards the position.
Hackett blinked and looked at the trooper, which was Corporal Jacobs, and grinned at him, "Quick thinking that man, won't give us long."
The man nodded back, "Gotta play the part. Right you lot, let's try to pretend to be interested in finding some nasty rebellious humans."
The disguised troops made a mock showing of carefully advancing in full view of the rest of the factory. Some of the soldiers across the room were glancing their way, confusion apparent, but still comfortable. Hackett took the opportunity to spread his men around, carefully, under cover of the raised, solid railing and the stacked pallets of pods and metal slats. Some of the men were carrying long poles and satchels of conical tubes - the rockets. He'd even have the lads bring a mortar.
Just in case.
He checked and saw that the rings had stairways and bridges connecting them. He had a feeling that the workers would flee once things really hit the fan. He pointed at the team medic,
"Charlie, need you to start dragging the civvies this way when the fun starts. Make a racket, we'll cover you. If we can get a few, then maybe we can evacuate some."
Above one of the green spheres began to crack open again. A flicker of purple shimmered and suddenly all the soldiers were turning towards the impostors. Jacobs noticed and made a show of moving his men into cover, pretending to cover the far door, trying to keep up the deception. Hackett frowned.
The disguises weren't working. He wasn't sure how, but a tingle in his mind, like a knife drawn over stone, told him something was wrong. Above them, something hissed and he glanced up. Among the butchery pods he saw the familiar shape of an insectoid - bulbous grey head glaring daggers down at him. More emerged, some clasping tools and other implements.
Bloody maintenance crew, weren't they?
"Stand too lads! Let 'em have it Rockets on the bloody floating bollock things! Maxim, keep those bastards suppressed! GET TO IT!"
For a single moment the world was frozen, hanging. And then the humans gave a roar and opened fire. The first volley of rounds tore into the alien guards nearby, aimed shots felling those standing clear of workers, multiple rounds jinking the abominations and sending them tumbling over railings. One gave a scream that sounded almost German…
Maxim gun was planted on the railing and the crew opened up, firing heavy bursts up at the opening green sphere. Glass shattered and fell and the human workers began to panic, some ducking down and hiding. Their human guards ignored them and tried to find cover.
"Dur Lok! Butse! Do'Not!"
The shotgunners and chinamen were raking the pods with fire, making the Sectoids leap and squeal in their attempts to get clear. Several fell, thudding to the ground with hideous splats of grey-green blood.
Above the white sphere emerged from its shattered pod, the other two also beginning to open.
One of the enemy soldiers popped up ready to take a shot, but suddenly sprawled as a human lunged with a three foot long piece of metal clutched in her hands. She shrieked defiance, her clothes filthy, stained with mud and sweat, then began to pound on the fallen soldier. Other cowering humans saw and scrambled to their feet, lunging for the distracted soldiers.
A few workers were fleeing, the soldiers around them firing indiscriminately through the crowd. A man fell, caught in the crossfire. That caused the crowd to surge in a different direction, some fleeing others turning on their jailors. Soldiers and workers tumbled over the sides of the factory rails, fighting as they fell.
Hackett spun and fired, reloaded, spun, fired again. Each shot aimed, but not all hitting. It was a melee, a mess of moving targets.
A whistle caught his attention, more mental than physical. Above them the orb was turning to focus in their direction. Across the factory, then reanimated humans stiffened, then turned and lurched towards the nearest gantries that would bring them across.
A man next to Hackett went down in a spray of blood as an enemy combatant caught a lucky shot. Charlie was stood far to his left waving a large white handkerchief, bringing the fleeing workers their way. But that was blocking good line of sight. The grizzled sergeant growled, frustrated, then turned and grinned nastily.
The rockets were racked on their launch rods. The demo trooper nodded at him and the fuses lit.
With a shriek, five rockets streaked up to the dome roof and exploded. Debris and glass sheared down and the orb seemed to howl. One of the unfolding green orbs detached from the ceiling and fell, dragging its white, spherical occupant down with it. The thing squealed like a stuck pig as it was born down by collapsing ceiling and its own outer pod. The green orb smashed against the uppermost ring of the factory and shattered. Something inside must've been pierced as electrical yellow lances of light arced about, and something exploded within. Some of the animated dead shuddered and collapsed and the ring tilted, then collapsed, shearing off partly. The fell and caught the ring below, scattering soldiers and material.
There was a whump as the mortar fired. The shells fuse had been cut down and it exploded in mid air, knocking the descending white orb off track and spinning it. The thing rumbled and focused, a lance of light bursting a soldier nearby into nothing more than paste. Hackett swore and their fire faded as men dove into cover. Along the path, people were streaming into the corridor beyond, getting away from the field of fire. Some joined Hacketts group, wild eyed and brandishing looted weapons, joining the fray. Others were still on the platforms, firing and finishing off the scattered soldiers.
All around, the arms were jabbing down trying to grab at people. But some of the workers were clambering up the arms, hammering at them in a frenzy with looted metal, others shooting them with alien guns.
It was pandemonium. The Sergeant peered over the lip of the railing and glared at the floating white sphere. It unfolded, spinning purple light around it.
"Bugger that for a game of soldiers. Focus fire on the ball-sack!" roared Hackett.
The Maxim gun and twenty men switched fire. The combined pressure of fire tore the thing to pieces, surprisingly quickly. The thing vibrated in mid air and detonated and another contingent of the advancing undead collapsed. Most were grappling with fleeing workers, or being grappled in turn.
The third green orb was now open, having been badly smashed. The third and final orb floated down slightly, only to be caught in a blossoming cloud of rocket fire. Hackett looked at his demo team and saw the lead man grimace, "Down to five more rockets, boss."
The Sergeant looked up and found the orb still floating there. It seemed the bastards were fairly resistant when all bunkered up. It literally eyed him carefully, yhen shot up at a rate of knots,disappearing out of the roof. Hackett was about to cheer when a pair of disc-like things replaced it, descending through the wreckage. Across the way, the massive double doors creaked open and a new squad of troops, backed by three Mutons barreled in.
"Maxim gun, suppressing fire on the big buggers, sharpshooters too. Everyone else, focus on those flying plates!"
The last few workers not in the fray were out the back, being hustled through the corridor by the rear guard. He hoped his rear team wouldn't let them go charging out into the countryside, where those blessed walking razor blades were. RV point, he hoped.
He turned his attention back to the fray.
This was going to be interesting.
Zhaojie and his troops watched as smoke blossomed from the top of the dome. The walker that had emerged fro the plant was still advancing up the hill, oblivious, it seemed, to the chaos occurring behind it. That was… odd. And none of the other walkers had exited the vast, grey ship either.
He shouldered the massive maxim gun her carried and turned to his squad.
"I believe that's the best distraction we can hope for. Eyes forward, watch for patrols but keep as silent as we can. Use the shadows and the night. Essex, let's leave some explosives here, set for ten minutes. Give them something else to focus on. And maybe remind the Lost there are more exciting opportunities in the big city."
Essex blinked, "Did… did you just make a joke, sir?"
Zhaojie stared at him, "Do I appear to be the sort to make light of a situation?"
Jiayi smirked slightly, then left the cramped, wrecked dining room of their temporary shelter. Zhaojie could hear her whispering commands to their little troupe. He watched as Essex snorted. The soldier turned and grabbed another man; the pair began to pull sticks of dynamite from pouches, setting up another layer of "fun". He nodded to himself, satisfied, then turned towards the doorway.
It was time to go finish this.