Man, well, if I had any doubts that summer was here, they've been put away. I know it's only June and that it'll likely get hotter down here. I went outside and saw two of my dogs, Sissy and Hoss, who normally hate water, standing in the creek up to their shoulders.
I guess they just wanted to get cool but I wouldn't rule out that they were looking for crawfish...
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OR ANYONE IN THE SPYRO UNIVERSE. ONLY MY OCS.
Chapter 43: Countdown
_*_*_*_*_**-8-8-888-8-8-8_*_*_*_*_*_*8-8-88-8-8_*_*_*_*_*_8-8-8-8-_*_*_*
The electric train rolled softly down the line. On either side as they passed they could see evidence of how much work had been done before the funding dried up. Cast aside the tracks were old track sections and cross ties, pickaxes, hammers, boxes of what looked to be rail spikes, empty spools that perhaps once held the copper wires that now ran above them, giving the train its power. Despite that, the only sounds in the tunnel were the ones made by the train. Add the dim and flickering lights that were spaced out roughly forty feet from each other, the sights of old webs crosscrossing the tunnel in places...
...and the occasional 'skree!' as the train ran into one of the trench dweller spiders that made their homes in the tunnel.
George gazed at Zafra who made a disgusted face as she turned on the wipers in an effort to clean the green spider goo off the windows. He couldn't help but chuckle at his niece's expression.
"Want to lodge a complain with the Rail Transit Authority?" Grant chuckled as he looked to them.
"Wouldn't do any good. RTA washed their hands of the project when the funding ran out, remember? I doubt there's anyone left who remembers or cares that these old lines are still down here. To them it's a financial black hole that they'd sooner forget even existed." Zafra frowned as she heard another trench dweller bite the dust and more green slime get splashed onto the windows.
"I swear when this is over I'm coming back down here and I am personally going to crush every single spider I see down here. Maybe even bring Dad so he can burn a few." Miles gave a half smile.
"Well, it could be worse. The trench dwellers keep the insect, rodent, and other creepy crawly populations down. If not spiders, the tunnels could be filled with snakes." Grant looked to him.
"Snakes? Did you say snakes?" Miles looked to him and nodded which made him shiver.
" I hate snakes." Miles chuckled.
"Well don't get the urge to put on a fedora and start swinging a whip around...Junior."
Grant gave Miles a one-fingered salute, folded his arms and went back to gazing out the window. Zafra rolled her eyes and went back to the controls and groaned as yet another spider got splatted on the window. Behind her, she heard Miles chuckle.
"He won't have the guts to do that no more."
She wondered how much trouble she'd be in if she tossed the large spanner wrench near her at Miles...
_*_*_*_*_*_*_8-8-8-88-8-8-8_**_*_*_*_8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-*_*_*_*_*_*_8-8-8-8-8-8_*_*_*
Caldor flew among the clouds, light bending around his scales, making him invisible to the naked eye. This was a technique that many light dragons tried to learn but only few succeeded and even fewer mastered. He was one of the few that had not only learned it but had also mastered it. He just never had reason to use it before now.
Known as 'Light Bending' or 'Shielding Light', the technique was simple: use mana to bend light around you, reflecting what was around you on your scales, and thus, to the untrained or unaided eye, you vanished into thin air. It was used by the light dragons of olden days to ambush prey and spy upon those who meant harm. One of the most successful uses was when a light dragon used it to hide in plain sight in a fort during some ancient war and then, without warning, reappeared and slaughtered all the enemies in the fort.
If anyone simply gazed up, they would see a sky lit by the orange and red colors of the sunset and some clouds. Only if someone really focused they could see a slight distortion that indicated there was a hidden light dragon above them.
The best part of the ability was the mana drain. Compared to other abilities like the always deadly 'Piercing Ray', what humans called the 'Light Dart', and the nonlethal 'Blinding Flare', the Light Bending ability's drain on Caldor's mana was negligible. He could keep the ability going for the whole night and half the next day if he wanted to.
The Light Bending was in some ways similar to a Shadow Dragon's 'Hide In Shadow' technique.
As Caldor flew over the manor, he saw countless vehicles: small scout cars, trucks, halftracks. Plenty of soldiers milled about, some patroling the compound, others on break. Some were actually near what looked to be the mess tent smoking and he caught a glimpse of a soldier running from the tent with both hands near his crotch region as he hot-footed towards the place Caldor believed to be the Latrine.
He also saw soldiers wearing long blue and white coats walking from one of the strange weapons to another. They looked odd to Caldor's eyes.
The weapons resembled large bombs that were fitted with wings and what looked to be a small engine welded onto the back. They also appeared to be fitted to strange scaffolds that held them upright. There were others fitted to ramps that held them at a perfect launch angle. Vaguely, he wondered what sort of reactions he could gain if he decided to cause a few 'mishaps' here and there?
Perhaps a quick talon to a tent cable? That would garner a laugh as the soldiers within struggled to get out.
Maybe a small spark by the fuel depot? No...as jittery as some of them are, they'd be put on alert and that might just force their worse case scenario.
As Caldor pondered this his gaze kept flicking up at the manor house and he spotted a large radio mast that seemed to have been hastily rigged to the side of the building.
(I wonder...if that tower came down, how badly would their communications be hampered?) He magnified his sight to examine the tower closer and then saw something he didn't expect.
Behind the manor, there was a shed. And in that shed...
"Ancestors...I hope they have plenty of ammo..."
_**_**_*_*-8-8-8-8-8-8-8***_*_*_*_*_8-8-8-8-8-8-*_*_*_*_*_*_*-8-8-8-8-8-*_*_*_*_*_*
Zafra stared out the green smeared window with a blank expression. The spiders had gotten so bad she had given up on using the wipers to clean them and settled for simply gazing past the green goop. George watched her and then looked over to Grant and Miles and sighed in boredom.
"Are we there yet?" Zafra turned at him with a gaze that promised, if she's been a fire dragon, to have burnt him to a crisp. He quickly coughed and turned back away from his upset niece and gazed out a side window.
Just then, Grant shot up, eyes wide.
"Hit the brakes!" Zafra didn't think, she just grabbed the brake lever and pulled with all her might. The brakes applied and Grant, who was still standing, went forward, rolled, and slammed into the control panel. Miles rose to help him up as George gazed at him.
"Are you out of your mind? What did you say that for?" Grant pointed to a marker next to the cab.
"That's the Talson Marker. It's the marker where Talson Station was supposed to be built and also marks the end of the line. In short, we've arrived." George nodded and then chambered his weapon but made sure the safety was still on.
"Get everyone out of the train. When we get topside, stay on alert." Grant came forward and unfurled a plan of the proposed station and lay it out on an old work table.
"There's two exits to the station. The primary here and the emergency exit further ahead. The emergency exit, I believe, comes up to the fields outside the manor while the primary exit comes up at the ruins of the old South Station. We'll be split up but we will also be on opposite sides of the manor." George looked at the map and nodded.
"The plan's alright but I have just one question. Zafra is the only one who stands a chance of making heads or tails of these weapons at first glance. Plus, Miles is the only one here with an anti-armor weapon and the knowledge to use it. What if the weapons are opposite of where Zafra is and what if a group runs into an armored target?" One of the Partisans laughed.
"If that happens, Nick, we'll just try to lure the tank to Miles so that he can blast the hell out of it. Besides, we've got Caldor above right? If there is an armored unit, he could probably take it out easily. Still though, knowing the enemy, they probably have their officers housed in the manor and have the troops in the field next to the weapons. The Rotarians officers don't strike me as the sort that would allow weapons to be set up near their quarters and constantly have soldiers patrolling around." George nodded.
"Makes since. They probably have the weapons in the field next to and under the watchful eyes of the soldiers. There has to be a way to draw some of them away allowing us to plant the charges on the weapons." Zafra looked to George, an idea coming to mind.
"In all likelihood, the specialists who know about these weapons are also housed in the manor and also might have some blueprints and other schematics lying around somewhere. If those lab rats are anything like elder Volteer, they have research notes all over the place. Finding those blueprints could give us an idea for a weak spot in the weapon and maybe even a way to turn them against the enemy." George nodded.
"Not to mention it would be a boon to our forces. If these weapons are being used elsewhere, they could give our forces an idea on how to either stop them on the ground or intercept them in the air." Grant looked between George and Zafra and nodded.
"Precisely my point. Nick, you take Lady Zafra, as well as Miles and a few of the group and take the manor. The rest of us will head into the fields and I'll try to figure out a weak spot that Hazard can set his charges." George looked to the radioman curiously.
"Why take Miles? Won't you need him if you come across an armored vehicle?" Grant shook his head.
"No. Hazard has not only some demo charges but also some anti-tank charges and landmines in his satchel. We also have some hammer grenades in case we have some light vehicles coming at us. More likely, if the enemy does have any armor nearby, it'll be at the manor protecting the officers, specialists, and their schematics, equations, and other research intel." George nodded, seeing the reasoning behind this thought.
"Alright, but if the enemy does have armor out there in the field, don't be heroes, set your charges and then get the hell out of there." Grant nodded.
"Understood, sir." At that moment, a young Partisan timidly raised his hand.
"Um...Nick...Sir? What about if the enemy has some who surrender?" George sighed, he knew he'd have to address this sooner or later. Better now than to have them doubt later. He steeled himself and gazed at the young man and saw that the same question was on others minds as well.
"We are Resistance, not regular Army, Marines, Navy, or Dragoons or Dracocorps. We have no military standing, no intel, no reinforcements, and no place to house soldiers who surrender if there are indeed any who do surrender. The enemy is an occupying force and will not show you any mercy and will give no quarter. Likewise, we must do the same. I ask you men and women to harden your hearts and steel your resolves. We cannot afford nor allow prisoners. If we take someone prisoner, and they escape, and tell the enemy leaders where we are, that will hang us sure as if we surrendered ourselves." George remembered words spoken by a great man during a similar time when Syllia was at war.
"It is these times that try our souls and temper our resolve and strengthen our bonds as Syllians, and as people. We are the only hope for Launces at this moment in time. We must be united in our resolve and in our cause for you may rest assured, if we do not hang together when our city, our nation, needs us most, we will all hang seperately." Grant nodded and looked at them.
"Partisans are not recognized by the laws of war. If we are caught, we will likely be tortured, interrogated, tried, and finally executed. The Rotarians will execute us in the same manner as the spies, pirates, and traitors of olden days: hung by the neck until dead." George nodded.
"It would also likely be a public hanging as well to show the people what happens when you stand against them. Although, some would also likely be executed by firing squad." Grant shook his head.
"High ranking partisans maybe, but for the rest of us, all that awaits us if captured is a hangman's noose and an eight foot drop. That's why, during the last war when the Federation occupied Launces, the common saying was: 'When you have six shots, and no hope of escape, give five to the enemy and save one for yourself'." The young man paled.
"B-But suicide is-" Grant raised his hand.
"A sin, yes, I know. I may not look it but I am a pious man. But tell me something, if it came down to it, would you allow yourself to be tortured, to be used as leverage against your remaining family to rat out on Partisans? Would you endure all manners of torture that the Rotarians can think of? Trust me, I've seen most of the horrible things men will do to their fellow man for the sake of extracting information. Would you be able to withstand the pain? The agony? The humiliation? Or would you crack under torture and start telling them everything you know in order for them to stop the pain?" The young man turned to him.
"Sir, what would you do?" Grant looked to George and then back to him.
"I wasn't built to be a prisoner. I'm a Reserve Army radioman and a Radio Announcer on the weekends. I know ciphers and codes to encoding and decoding all manner of military messages, this is something I cannot, under any circumstances, allow the enemy to learn. That's why I carry two sidearms." He drew two pistols, one was a snub nose revolver and the other was a small lump of steel that fit in Grant's palm.
"The revolver is loaded with magnum rounds, and this little thing here has one round. If I'm in risk of getting captured, I'm going to take this small weapon here and deny the enemy my knowledge and the pleasure of gloating that they caught a communications expert. But then again, that's just me. Failing that, I would expect any one of you, if you see me surrounded and with no hope of rescue, I would expect any of you to put a round through me."
The young man nodded and remained silent as the group dispersed, he chose to go with George's group and attack the manor. He muttered a single prayer as he followed the group to the exit.
A prayer that they would all make it back alive.
_*_**_*_*_8-8-8-8-88_*_*_**_*_*_8-8-8-8-8-8_*_**_*_*_*-8-8-8-8-8_*_*_*_*_*_*
Caldor watched with disgust as the tank trundled along slowly on it's monotonous patrol. Judging by the size of it, it had to be an MA7V. The oldest tank that was still being used, albeit as a trainer.
It was this tank and a few other older versions that had been dropped from the airships during the Warfang Siege in the Dalon Conflict. James de Launces himself had taken command of one and had led it into the battlefield and managed to drive back Dalon's forces who, despite a show of pure bravado, were absolutely terrified of confronting tanks that they knew their's couldn't match.
Indeed Dalon's tanks had been built to deal with dragons, not other tanks.
The MA7V was an odd looking tank to be sure when compared to the more modern designs. It had a unique shape, with the main gun fixed to the front and several machineguns around it. It wasn't very fast nor was it considerably well armored given the advancements of tank and anti-tank combat tactics and designs.
The tank could have stopped a high-powered rifle round or perhaps a low-powered cannon shell but nothing else. Still, it seemed that this one tank was the only armored vehicle present that could hamper the Resistance if they were unprepared for it. Other vehicles were mainly 'soft' targets like scout cars, trucks, and perhaps three or four halftracks. Despite himself, Caldor began to worry for Zafra and the others and began to figure out how best to aid the Partisans when the fireworks started.
The feedback from a loudspeaker got his attention and he looked down at the large broadcasting tower.
"Attention! Attention! All soldiers, get clear of the scaffolds. We have received orders to launch within the hour. Engineers from all shifts are to report to the field immediately to begin final gyroscope calibrations and to prepare for installment. Countdown begins now with fifty-nine minutes and forty-five seconds to launch."
Caldor would have paled if he hadn't been focused on keeping of the light bending technique. Still, they had just let slip the weakness of the weapons.
(Gyroscopes, huh? No idea what they are but if they are all currently not installed, that means there is no danger to launch at the moment.)
He scanned the area to identify the engineers and saw them making their way to the manor house with all speed while soldiers evacuated from the area and went back to their tents and barracks. He continued to look around and saw a sight that chilled his blood.
A small hatch opened up from the ground behind the manor house almost right in front of the MA7V.
And Zafra was the one looking up and around.
_*_*_*_*_***-8-8-8-8-8-8-*_*_*_*_**_*-8-8-8-8-8_*_*_*_*_*_*-8-8-8-8-8_*_*_*_
Zafra's first clue something was wrong was when she heard a rumbling noise from behind her. She turned just in time to duck back into the hole as the tank rolled over the hatch, crushing it down into the dirt, preventing it from being closed again. George looked up and sighed.
"Well, there goes our escape route. Not much point of diving back down here when the door's open and anyone can simply come in." Miles nodded and the hefted the RR4C on his shoulder.
"Want me to scrap that tank, sir? It's one of ours and I can't bear the sight of it being driven by those Rotarian curs." George shook his head.
"No Miles, in due time. For right now, let's get into the manor house. Now, the sun has set and it's getting dark. If we are to have the best chance, we need to disable any alarms they've installed in the manor. That means cutting power to the whole building. Who has the wire cutters?" The young Partisan from before raised his hand.
"Alright Felix, you go with Miles and Edwards to cut the wires. The rest of us will wait for the lights to go out and then we'll enter. It's going to be dark in there so choose your shots and for goodness sake, make sure your suppressors are on." The men and women with him nodded and then rose one by one and started taking positions near the house. As Miles, Edwards, and Felix went towards the area of the manor house where power box was. As they reached it, the loudspeaker came on again.
"Attention! Attention! Fifty minutes to launch. Fifty minutes to launch. Begin final preparations and final patrols."
Miles nodded to Felix who slipped the wire cutters onto the main electrical wires and squeezed. The wires came apart with an audible snap and the lights instantly went dark. Inside, the group could hear curses and several shouts of confusion and shock. Back with George, he opened the door, secretly switched his eyes to dark vision, and entered into the building as two soldiers came around the corner.
As the closest one saw the open door and the Partisans, he opened his mouth to shout an alarm but he and the one behind him were silenced by George's suppressed S12A3 submachinegun. Immediately after, the Partisans came in and started checking the nearby rooms, finding two more enemy soldiers who they silenced with ease. As Miles, Edwards and Felix came in, they shut the door behind them as the tank came around the house again on it's patrol.
George motioned for Felix and Edwards to come up and scout around the corner. As Felix came up, several gunshots rang out and the young man fell clutching his chest. George looked around to see a Rotarian soldier hefting what looked to be a heavy machinegun craddled in his arms. He just barely had time to duck his head before another burst took chunks out of the molding.
"All soldiers alarm! Partisans are in the manor! Partisans are in the manor!"
George growled angrily and swung his weapon around the corner in a 'blind fire' maneuver and emptied the entire magazine down the darkened hallway. He heard a scream, and then a heavy thunk as the soldier who had shouted fell dead and the portable heavy machinegun was dropped. George reloaded the weapon and went around the corner to see if Felix was still alive.
The grouping of seven rounds that went through the young man's chest, almost directly over the sternum, confirmed the worst.
George rose and looked to the others behind him.
"No more mercy. Storm the manor, give no quarter." As soon as he said it, he rose and slung the weapon over his shoulder and examined the weapon the enemy soldier had dropped.
It indeed looked to be a modified version of the Rotarian MG32 heavy machinegun. The barrel had been shortened, the sights had been removed, the stock shortened, and a large belt had been linked to it to serve as a strap to hold onto the weapon, and an ammo can had been bolted onto the weapon to prevent having to sling a length of ammo around the arms.
All in all, the soldier who held this had the power of a heavy machinegun in a light enough package to be carried around by one man.
Noticing that he only had two magazines left for the silenced submachinegun, George had no problems slinging the heavier weapon up and making sure the weapon was ready to fire. He remembered stories about how the old Resistance used small, snub nosed, single shot 'palm' pistols called 'Poppers' to kill Federation soldiers so that the Partisan could steal the fallen soldier's weapon.
Essentially the Popper was a weapon you only used until you could 'trade up' to a more powerful weapon and was then discarded. It was hardly a wonder that so few were left and that they were prized by military collectors all over the world.
Either way, the stealthy approach was now flying out the window and George had to think fast. He remembered that Miles also carried a few DEX5 charges as well as homemade shrapnel mines and instructed him to booby trap the door as well as the cleared rooms. That would slow the enemy troops down as well as give them a chance to search for any valuable intel.
Advancing further, George noticed that there was a hatch open that led (presumably) to the old wine celler beneath the house. However, instead of his dragon sense picking up the smell of alcohol, he instead smelled smoke and burning paper and ink. He realized what it was and turned to the group.
"They're burning the intel! Down the celler, quick!"
George, Miles, and Zafra leapt down the hatch and almost immediately saw six men wearing white coats trying to stuff enough pages, papers, and documents to make the Encyclopedia Grand Maxima look like children's book. The lead man saw them and produced a small pistol and got one poorly aimed shot off before George cut them down.
Zafra ran by him with a fire extinguisher and put out the flames and pushed some of the papers away. It was then that a blueprint fell to her feet and she picked it up and handed it to George who glanced at the paper and scratched his head.
"What am I looking at?"
"It's a device known as a 'gyroscope'. It's a device that, once set, uses magnets and electrical currents to correct any changes that might result from jarring or shock. The only uses I know of them are in the large multi-engine aircraft to keep them from flipping upside down in storms." George looked at the diagram and then at the other papers on the table.
"Looks like the Rotarians figured out more uses for them that just that. I'm no engineer but it looks like they're using them as guidance devices." Zafra examined the papers and nodded.
"Looks like it. It appears to be some instructions here...let's see...Set gyro to desired course and altitude... hmm... that looks like an internal timer that adjusts the trajectory once the timer reaches a certain time." George and Miles looked to her curiously.
"Translation?"
"It means that they've figured out how fast these weapons fly and have worked out a timetable for them. The launch, the gyroscopes keep them stable for the duration of the flight, the timer counts down to the appointed moment. Once the timer reaches that moment, it throws the controls into a downward pitch that makes the weapon dive and impact the target. Going at top speed with a sizable warhead means that one of these weapons could bring down a building." George paled and scanned the papers.
"Any idea on how to stop them?" Zafra scanned through some more papers and smiled.
"Yes. There is a flaw. They cannot launch the weapons simultaniously, too much risk of a mid-air collision. Instead, they launch them one at a time. While they're on the ground, their gyros can still be reset." George then saw what she was planning and nodded.
"Reset the gyro on one weapon to loop back and detonate in the field..."
"...we set off a chain reaction that destroys all the enemy weapons before they have a chance to wonder what went wrong." Miles nodded.
"That's all well and good, but what weapon is going to be launched first?" At that moment, the loudspeaker came on.
"Attention. Attention. Attention. The first weapon to fire will be V1-04. Repeat: V1-04 will be the first to fire and will be activated once all gyros are confirmed set and all personel are clear. Thirty minutes to Launch." Miles looked at George and Zafra's expressions and shrugged.
"Ask a question, get an answer I guess..."
_*_*_**_*_**_88-8-88-8-8-8_*_**_*_*_*_*8-8-8-8-8-8_*_*_*_*_*_*_8-88-8-8-8_*_*_*_
From above, Caldor could see the area below was now abuzz with activity. He had faintly heard the echo of unsuppressed gunshots and groaned inwardly to himself.
(So much for taking a quiet appoach...)
He watched as the soldiers took notice of the shots as well and started running for the manor. However, they made a mistake.
They were all running in the same direction and forming up with their fellows creating a line of soldiers running for the manor. Caldor eased down from the clouds and aimed at the group and readied his light element. The light started to glow as he opened his maw. His fangs parted as he fired eight light darts all moving with the group.
They never knew what hit them.
The soldiers in the group, at best, felt searing heat and maybe had their eyes blinded as the darts impacted. Caldor flew over and eyed the group as those who had not been directly impacted stared in astonishment as these darts of white-silver light that now stuck out of the ground. Caldor maintained his link to the spell, making the light grow brighter as more mana was fed into the darts. Even as he did this, the soldiers looked at the darts as if hypnotized by them. It was almost too easy. All he had to do was sever the flow of mana...
It was as simple as letting go of a rope that tethered him to the darts. Once he severed the mana, the soldiers on the ground learned why this light element attack was outlawed except during times of war. They learned why light dragons were the among the most feared and respected dragons in Syllia. They learned that a supposedly benign element that could be seen as a symbol of hope could be used to harm...to kill.
Not that they would benefit from it, nor survive.
The light darts exploded as he cut the mana off. Those soldiers not killed instantly by the pressure wave of the explosion were killed as the shards from the darts pierced their bodies, arced around, and impaled them again, and again, and again. The Light Dart was a technique that was made soley for inflicting mass casualties among the enemy and horrendous injuries among those who survived.
Not that often many did.
Those on the outskirts of the attack and had the bodies of their fellows to absorb the shards saw and felt their clothes, their hair, even their flesh, catch fire. Twenty-seven soldiers had been running for the manor to catch the Partisans. Of those, seventeen lay dead or dying, and ten were flailing about screaming as white-silver flames consumed their bodies. Almost humorously, Caldor's mind thought of them as torches that ran about on their own.
Caldor saw others coming up and saw their comrades burning. One by one, they fell, but they were no longer human. They were no longer even alive. The flames had consumed them entirely. The bones of those who burned fell in charred, jumbled piles, then turned to dust as the wind picked up. Moments later, the second stage of the attack kicked in. Those nearby watched in horror as thin blue trails arced their way up into the sky and were absorbed into the light dragon hovering above them.
The Light Dart attack not only killed enemies but it also restored a portion of the mana expended in the attack back to the caster. The flames that consumed the survivors of the explosion, and in fact the shards of the darts themselves, were made of mana. Once the shards had stopped arcing and the flames had burnt themselves out, that mana returned to the dragon responsible fo the attack.
For a light dragon to use this attack was to show a merciless nature, and will to do whatever it took to protect his or her comrades. Those who witnessed the fate of their comrades had either one or two reactions: fear or anger.
Fear was the easier to induce, and the most common, reaction. What human, who didn't understand one wit about magic, could stand there, watch their friends essentially be turned into mana and that mana be absorbed by the dragon who slew them? Anger was rare, but it was evident in strong-willed humans.
Judging by the reactions of those who had saw the attack and saw the finale, as well as the malodorous scent that they now stank of, it was fear they all felt. To a man, they turned and ran all the while shouting for the tank that was now rumbling around the manor to attack him, completely oblivious to the fact that, had he wanted to, could have done the same to the tank crew within.
It was highly unlikely that the tank's antiquated armor would stop a light dart. Still, his mana was completely recharged, using the technique again would be like pouring more liquid into a glass that was already full. He instead opted for the light beam, the more commonplace technique that light dragons used and raked it across the retreating soldiers. As the light mowed down the soldiers on the ground, the loudspeaker came on, this time, the voice was frantic.
"Attention all forces! Emergency command authorized! Begin countdown with what rockets are currently set! Start the timers for the launch!" Caldor heard that and inwardly cursed.
"Here we go."
With that, he angled towards the building that had all the appearance of a command center, intent on razing it to the ground.
_*_*_*_*_*_*_*8-88-8-88_*_*_*_*_*_*-8-8-8-8-8_*_*_*_*_*_*_*-88-8-8-8-*_*_*_*_*_*
George cursed as he heard the announcement and then motioned for the others to get out of the manor.
"Zafra, take three here and head to the field and try and find the gyro for V1-04. We've got to stop that launch!"
Zafra was already out the door when he turned and yelled that and three Partisans did a double-take before quickly running after her. She broke into a dead run just in time to see Caldor attacking the infantry trying to get to the manor.
"Zafra! Get down!"
She heard Miles' voice and turned just in time for him to tackle her as the tank fired its main gun almost point blank at their group. Miles and Zafra tumbled into a ditch that was full of foul-smelling water, the other two weren't so lucky as the shell landed between them. In the ditch, Zafra and Miles were showered with blood, gore, and pieces of body parts. Miles angrily eased up and felt his back and swore.
"I lost the damn bazooka!" Zafra looked out of the ditch and spotted the anti-tank weapon lying nearby. She looked at Miles and saw that he still had the bandoleer that held the shells for the weapon and used her earth element to make the smooth pebbles the weapon rested on start rolling, carrying the weapon towards them.
A moment later, the bazooka rolled into the ditch, much to Miles' elation and amazement. Not wasting a moment, he twisted the T shape handle in the back and pulled revealing the firing chamber, he then slid one of the 35mm rounds into the chamber, closed the breech, and twisted the handle again to seal it.
The 35mm B-12 round, often called the 'Brick' round due to it's shape, was tailor-made to pierce the armor of tanks and light vehicles. It was also the only time a weapon was designed around the ammunition. The weapon, the RR4C Recoiless Rifle, was made to eliminate the need for two or three men to use anti-armor weapons. In truth, the weapon is more like a large, supersized rifle than a bazooka. It was light enough for one person to heft it comfortably and, as per the name, the recoil was negligible.
Miles lifted the weapon out of the ditch and leveled it at the incoming tank. Obviously the driver of the tank saw it because the tank's left tread came to a dead stop as the brake steering was used to turn the tank hard right. Two small hatches on the barbettes opened up and the barrels of machineguns emerged and angled on him and fired. Undaunted, Miles smiled as he adjusted his aim on the tank, no longer aiming at the slanted front but now at the smooth side, Miles leveled the crosshairs over the Rotarian triangle that had been painted over the Syllian cross and squeezed the trigger.
As rounds kicked up dust as they snaked their way towards him, the firing pin in the base of the weapon (the firing pin is drawn or 'cocked' by the twisting of the handle and the pulling of the chamber) slammed forward into the firing cap at the base of the round. There was a slight kick as the round fired and a plume of fire erupted from the muzzle. With her enhanced sight, Zafra could see the round as it spead through the air towards the tank, striking it dead center where Miles had been aiming, punching a fist-sized hole through the thin armor plate.
Then, an explosion on the far side of the tank. Zafra could only stare in amazement as light from the command bunker on the far side of the field shown through the hole the round had punched through the tank.
The machineguns stopped, the smoke from the exhaust seemed to thicken and darken and the tank slowly ground to a halt. Vaguely, she could hear men cursing boisterously. Now Miles noticed smoke starting to curl out from the top of the command box on top of the tank and hastily reloaded. Zafra looked to him curiously and he growled.
"Damn! I forgot that the MA7V wasn't that thickly armored. All I did was give those bastards a headache and perhaps scare the crap out of some of them. Once they do a damage check and realize nothing vital's hit, they'll go back on the attack. I've got to finish it off now while they're stopped!"
He leveled the weapon and fired again. This time, the round went up and crashed through the top corner of the hull near the rear. Judging by the debris that shot up into the air, Miles assumed he'd just took someone's head off and destroyed the engine at the same time. Then, thick, black smoke started pouring from the holes he made and the sound of men screaming could be heard. Miles paled as he rose, suddenly realizing what had happened.
If his memory was correct, the MA7V's fuel cell was housed almost right where the second round had gone in. The second round had struck the fuel cell, dumping fuel over the crew inside and the heat from the engine had been enough to set it off. The crew was burning alive inside the tank.
Without warning, flames burst from the top hatch, the rivetted plates started to glow. The paint started to crack and peel, the radiator exploded as the water inside turned to steam and forced its way out, blasting the radiator cap through an open hatch. Rivets suddenly popped free and shot across the field like red hot, glowing bullets.
Zafra watched as the hatches in the rear of the tank were thrown open and three men, the only survivors, scrambled from the tank, their uniforms and flesh still burning, screaming as they half-staggered, half-crawled from the tank, each breath they took to scream sucked in more flames, burning their throats and lungs. She couldn't bear it any more and rose to level her weapon at the group but felt a rough hand on her shoulder.
She turned to see a Partisan who had gone with Grant beside her, his face twisted with anger.
"Don't shoot. Let the bastards burn, they'd do the same to us given the chance."
As Zafra opened her mouth to reply, three gunshots rang out and she turned to see the three men drop. Grant stood in the distance, a grim look on his face, his revolver smoking. The man who had stopped Zafra rounded on him.
"Damn it Grant! Why the hell'd you have to do THAT?! They are the enemy!" Grant holstered the weapon and walked over to him.
"True, they are the enemy. But if we do not show mercy, we are no better than they are. You said the enemy would do the same to us, that I have no doubt, were the roles reversed. However, those men were burning alive. They were in no shape to do any fighting. What's the worse they could have done? Run at us? Try to set us on fire? They were so consumed with pain they couldn't possibly have had a single coherent thought!" The man growled, turned, and stalked away.
"Primary preparations complete! All personel clear the area! Readying launch sequence now!"
THAT brought Zafra back to reality as she turned to the rockets in the field and started running for them. George grabbed her and held her back.
"It's too late!" Zafra fought to free herself, wound up elbowing George in the face and ran for the field.
_*_*_**_*_*_8-8-8-8-8-8-8_*_*_*_*_*_*-8-88-8-8-8-8_*_*_*_*_*_*-8-8-8-8-8_*_*_*_*
Zafra quickly gazed left and right, trying to find the weapon that would start the barrage. She started to panic as she scanned the numbers identifying each and every weapon.
"Thirty seconds to launch!"
Zafra ran down a second row of weapons, glancing left and right as she did so. Spying something, she turned and ran down another row and glanced at the last rocket in the row and sighed with relief.
'V1-04'
Zafra climbed the scaffold, used her strength to pry a panel off and saw the gyro. Looking at the marks along the inner and outer rings, she carefully realigned them to the desired trajectory.
"Fifteen seconds!"
Zafra leapt down and started running as a bright flash and a thunderous 'BOOM' and saw a beam of light arc through a small building by the reinforced command bunker.
"Alert! Alert! Power controls for the V1 weapons has failed due to damage sustained! Switching first fire controls to V2 weapons. Launch reset to fifteen seconds!" Zafra paled and cursed as she glanced all the way to the opposite side of the field where more of the weapons were as well as those few rigged on ramps.
"Attention. Clear the V1 area. V1-04 is still live! Repeat: Weapon V1-04 is still live! Beginning emergency countermeasures to stop launch!" Then another voice came on the intercom.
"V2 launch in ten seconds!"
Zafra broke into a flat run to get away from the weapon. Suddenly, bullets started whizzing by as soldiers who had ran into the field to try and disable V1-04 manually opened fire. The intercom came on with alarm and furthermore, more voices echoed through.
"Soldiers in the V1 area, hold your fire! Those weapons don't react well to bullets!"
"Nine seconds..."
"For the love of...all right, try the emergency override!"
There was a loud buzz.
"Eight seconds..."
"Emergency Override controls not responding! They must have been damaged when the manor lost power!"
"Then bypass it!"
"Seven seconds..."
"Bypass is not working! I have no connection to the weapon!"
"Soldiers in V1 area, get to V1-04 and shut it down, NOW!"
"Six seconds..."
Zafra sighed with relief as the rounds stopped but then realized something. If the soldiers managed to shut down the weapon, all that Zafra had done to reset the gyro would be in vain. All the people that had died to stop this launch would have died in vain. She leveled her weapon and opened fire on the enemy soldiers, stunning them and effectively making them dive for cover wherever possible. Some, comically enough, even dove for cover behind other rockets.
"Five seconds..."
"WILL SOMEONE PLEASE GET TO V1-04 AND SHUT. IT. DOWN. NOW!"
"Four seconds..."
Zafra kept shooting at the group. She didn't know how she knew, but she just knew she was still in range of the launch blast from the rocket when it launched. She also knew that the weapons were too close together to allow her to shift to escape. Not that the enemy would grant her the time needed to shift anyway.
"Three seconds..."
A roar pierced the noise of battle, Zafra looked and saw Caldor flying towards her. Frantically, she realized what he intended to do.
Two seconds..."
Another buzz echoed through the intercom.
"Damn it! Well, at least the weapon will be going towards Royalis anyway."
"Easy for you to say Butz! YOU don't have to file the paperwork!"
"One second..."
Against all hope, Zafra rose and started running again. Behind her, an orange glow started to illuminate the area. She knew it was too late. Then, she could have smiled.
"V2 weapons launch, V1-04 launch...w-wait a second! Are these numbers right? Someone look at this!" A pause.
"T-These aren't the preset numbers the engineers put into the gyro! They've been altered!"
"Altered how? Where the hell will this weapon go?"
"If these numbers are right...Clear the field, NOW!"
Zafra was knocked off her feet as the weapon fired. She was turned around and saw the flames erupting from the bottom as the weapon took off. The blast came barreling towards her and she squinted her eyes and prepared for the worst.
Except the worst never came.
She felt something wrap around her and then felt the ground fall away from her feet. She opened her eyes and gazed upwards and saw a silver scaled miracle.
"Caldor!" Caldor looked down at her and smiled.
"Hold on! I'm looping around to do a pass on those V2s, I still have part of my mission to complete."
Zafra felt the pressure and vertigo of a quick 180 degree flip and then saw a sight that made her blood run cold. In the distance, she could already see the smoke trails of several rockets as they angled away from Launces, clearly out of Caldor's range. Still, the rest were still on the ground, launching one or two at a time.
Caldor closed and unleashed a light beam on the closest airborne rocket, causing it to explode and detonating others around it as the debris fell on top of them. Caldor looked down to Zafra.
"What did you do to that first rocket?" Zafra smiled.
"Wait five more seconds."
A loud roaring noise was heard above them. As Caldor zapped another rocket out of the sky, he saw the rocket Zafra had sabotaged do a reversal mid-flight and angle down towards the field it had launched. The people in the command bunker were losing their minds.
"Someone, quick! Trigger the radio self-destruct!" A loud buzz.
"No good! It's not responding! I think the radio aerial has been destroyed!" Caldor smiled even wider. He spoke in an innocent tone, easily getting a laugh from Zafra.
"Thought it looked important so I broke it..."
"Execute secondary charge!" Another buzz.
"It's no good! Nothing's responding!"
"Oh my God! It's completed the loop! INCOMING!"
The rocket barreled down into the field and exploded, setting off the chain reaction Zafra had intended to happen as the firestorm spread, engulfing more of the flying bombs and detonating them as well. Then, an unexpected treat. One of the weapons on the ramp launched and flew straight as an arrow towards the command bunker, burst through the wall, but then stopped.
There was a pause and then...
"Damn Partisans..."
...The rocket exploded, lifting the top floor of the bunker clear and forcing the forward wall outwards as the fireball leapt upwards. Debris also came down on the manor house, setting it ablaze as well.
Zafra looked up at Caldor and smiled softly.
"Thank you. For saving me." Caldor chuckled.
"Any time. Besides, your uncle would have my hide if I let anything happen to you." Zafra then remembered George and chuckled nervously.
"Well, in that case, I may need protection from him." When she saw Caldor's curious expression, she explained which caused Caldor to burst into laughter.
"Well in that case, should we hurry back to the lair?" Zafra eased up in Caldor's grip and surprised him by planting a kiss on the side of his muzzle.
"I think I like that idea."
_*_*_*_*_*_*_*-8-8-8-8-8-8-*_*_*_*_*_*_*-8-8-8-8-8_*_*_*_*_*_*-8-8-8-8-8_*_*_*_*
George held his nose with a handkerchief as he watched the field, the manor, the bunker, and the remaining weapons burn. He then gazed up to see Caldor taking Zafra in the direction of the lair and nodded.
"Alright, back to the train. Grant, full speed back to the lair, I want to alert Royalis that some of the weapons are airborne."
Grant nodded he understood but also chuckled both at George's bloody nose and Caldor and Zafra.
"Thinking about stopping them?" George turned to gaze at Caldor again and shook his head smiling.
"No. Zafra's an adult and capable of making her own decisions. I doubt they'll do anything that they know Thera and Ignitus wouldn't approve of but, as long as they're together, let them build up a trust to each other. Maybe being close to Zafra will be good for Caldor..."
_*_*_**_*_*_*_*_*_*-8-8-88-8-8-8-*_*_*_*_*_*_*_8-8-8-8-8_*_*_*_*_*_*
Whew! Sorry for the delay everyone! Been busy around the house, also busy with my dogs. Turns out taking care of pets is great for stress relief. However, not so relaxing is the fact that the dogs tend to wander. I'm seriously considering microchiping them to see where in the blazes they roam to.
Alright, taking a small break from the Launces Resistance, the next chapter goes to Bertram in Royalis and also introduces another 'minor' character: Caldor's mother, Elisari.
Oh, also before I forget, the Popper mentioned earlier in the story was a take on the 'Liberator' .45 pistol that the Allies droped en masse to Resistance fighters throughout occupied France in the Second World War. These small, smooth-bore, single-shot pistols were made of steel, meant to be easily fit into a pocket or concealed in a hand, and used on lone enemy soldiers in order for the Resistance to claim their weapon. These little weapons were quick, cheap, and easy to produce and most simply discarded them after they secured another weapon. This has made the .45 Liberator an extremely rare collector piece.
See, American television actually teaches you something every now and again.
If you would like to see concepts of the story, please visit my DeviantART page (LauncesMechanist705). The weapons featured and their concepts are: Resistance Weapons 1 and Syllian Training Tank MA7V (Captured). They're in my gallery.
Next Chapter: Broken Arrow.