It had been many years since Mel had donned armor. Well, besides the magical golden ones she couldn't remove without a lot of trouble. Being here will cement my status as the enforcer's councilor, which may be pivotal in the days and weeks to come. It is the hour of the hunt, because the carnivore dies without its prey.
She looked over the scores of armed and armored enforcers. Derek was talking to a lieutenant–now technically a brevet captain. Mel walked coolly over to another lieutenant that seemed hesitant.
"Good evening, Captain," giving her a simple flattery. "Are the rules of engagement clear?"
She saluted smartly, at least by Piltover standards. "Yes, Councilor. Only engage in proportional force or personal danger. Less strict once inside the factory, though."
Mel nodded. "A concession to the diplomatic committee, but a wise one. Stay safe but driven, Captain."
Mel saw the Sheriff was coming back to her and smiled. "It will begin soon, Sheriff?"
He saluted and nodded. "Yes, Councilor. I appreciate your support, but your wounding, capture, or death would be catastrophic for Piltover. Please stay by the rear."
"I will defer to you." And it will allow me some distance if you fail. Though requesting a superior stay away from the front would not go well in most Noxian commands.
She moved onto the steps of a nearby residence to survey better. Over one hundred strong stood ready to march into the upstart colony and cripple the insurgents' economic engine.
Sheriff Derek gave his final inspirational shouts and the first company headed out. Not too many ways to tactically cross a bridge. Though commandeering boats and developing an operational base is what I would have done. Or done as a feign.
The company made it just beyond the halfway point when it stopped. Then the companies behind it did. Mel frowned. She looked and listened intently. It was hard to tell from this distance, but she thought she heard… music?
Mel hopped down and ran over. Yes, that is music. Only one instrument playing. It was through speakers, but it was definitely one person playing a stringed one.
Most of the enforcers were taller than her, especially in full gear, but she could look around them and make out that the player looked to be alone. She checked the structures above for anyone but saw no trace.
Next she listened: for the sound of the hoverboard like the one she heard in the council room; for war machinery; for anything other than the enforcers and the fiddle music.
Mel couldn't feel vibrations or dizziness from machines or gas. She couldn't taste or smell any odors that could be explosive or noxious. What is this?
Losing patience as the tune looped, she maneuvered her way through the stilled soldiers until she saw a familiar face. An older man, possibly near retirement. "Harold, do you know this work?" she asked in a low voice.
Harold nodded. "As Below, So Above. It was an old but popular militant underground song during the more recent Discord. It is about a mine owner who brought in replacement workers during a strike. After the picketers and their families were attacked, the union leader said they'd resolve the strike in the owner's favor at a meeting by the entrance. The strikers blew up the opening, sealing the replacement workers inside. The mining owner was later found dead with mining waste stuffed down his throat."
She closed her eyes. No, this is too orchestrated. Too theatrical. It can't be a trap or it would be sprung by now. With confidence from her years of military training, Mel Medarda advanced through the first company and stood just a little behind and to the right of the sheriff.
Before speaking, she appraised the man a quarter of the bridge length away. He was well-dressed, average height, and had a slim build. Most distinctly, of course, was an eye infected with toxins that seemed to glimmer in the large gibbous moonlight. Silco may try to use body doubles, but he would not have found one willing to do this.
She lightly touched his elbow and the sheriff jumped. He seemed ready to aim his sidearm at her, but collected himself as soon as he recognized her.
"Councilor, you can't stay here. Especially as I'll be ordering a withdrawal and having the raid take place in the morning," Derek told her.
"Withdraw?" Mel struggled to maintain her disappointment. The song was lopping again. "Respectfully, that is not the tactic for this situation. We cannot let a single foe allow us to turn back."
"Councilor, I'm not a politician. I serve Piltover in a clearer way. But I do know what starting a sentence with 'respectfully' means. So, 'respectfully,' return to safety on our side of the Pilt, so I don't have to order an enforcer to escort you."
Mel fingers tapped the side of her cuisse where a weapon would be. "This is a version of a legend from Ionia. A weaker opponent presents themselves as being extremely vulnerable so the stronger force doesn't attack because it must be an ambush."
Derek did not move. "But they must think we'd be aware of the empty fortress strategy, right? No, there is no need to risk my troops on this right now."
Mel felt herself losing patience. We've been outfoxed, but we won't be outwolfed. Marcus; the gemstone; Stillwater; Viktor and the hexcore. War is being waged on us. The source of the trouble is right here. If he is killed now, thousands may be saved later.
"Soldier, give me your firearm," Mel ordered an enforcer standing close by.
"Gavrila, don't listen to the Councilor. This is an operation under my command. Lieutenant Tib, escort the Councilor to safety."
Mel grabbed the carbine from Gavrilla without resistance; she ran to the side before any of the others could act. She steeled herself and aimed at the center mass of Silco, who was looking in her direction, but undeterred from his play. Even if it is a trap, tonight is the night you die, Silco.
A shot ran out. Mel's commandeered carbine fell to the ground and she rubbed her hands. Everyone looked around, but it was unclear where it had come from. Probably because they were focused on me.
"The Undercitiers have opened with aimed fire. Your rules of engagement are to respond proportional. Return fire," Mel ordered and pointed at Silco. Must I try again myself?
Derek had knelt down and picked up the bullet. "The Kiramman sigil. A clear enough message from Caitlyn," he remarked in a bitter tone.
A couple of enforcers had shouldered arms and then aimed at the fiddle player. Suddenly, there was a tremendous light blue flash. The greatest Mel had experienced since that night, when she had championed Jayce and Viktor's birthing hextech. But that one was a baby. This one seemed to a gigantic adult that threatened to encompass both cities.
The light formed a dome shape above the fissures. Silco to stumble and for a beat. Mel couldn't tell whether it was from the force or surprise. It continued just short of her and the front column then stopped. Then it darkened a shade as if crystalizing.
Mel would not be deterred. I direct a light show almost everyday with Piltover's leaders. This is just another bluff.
With speed she recovered the carbine, aimed at Silco again, and fired. The bullet struck the hextech wall and then dropped. It didn't absorb or deflect or break apart. It just hit and then its momentum disappeared.
Two enforcers grabbed her arms after she sent two more shots with the same result. Derek, perhaps now out of wonderment as much as anything else, walked up to the wall. Silco somewhat mirrored the Sheriff, though he had a calm to him and a hint of a smile.
The Sheriff took his baton and struck at the wall. It had no visible result. Silco reached the last verse of the song and sang it loud enough for them to hear.
The mine will stay closed
The scabs almost dead
But Pilties do not panic
The boss will be well-fed
Silco stopped playing and tested the barrier with his by poking at it with the bow. After that, he did a theatrical bow to Derek then Mel then turned. Mel was too surprised and agitated to hear what Derek told her as they all moved away. She watched Silco head back to his home as the enforcers and her headed back to theirs.