Book 7 - Chapter 17 - Force multiplier (Patreon)

“The success chance of this is near zero.” Yill spoke from the side of the command center, nets holding the old commander down. “You are a fool Roark, and you’ve been sent here for nothing.”

“I was sent here to serve my people, same as you were Yill.” Roark answered without much emotion. He didn’t hate Yill, rather the contrary. But both Odin here knew that Roark was the council’s right hand wing, sent here to balance out any potential insurgency. That was the deal struck between the Víkingr and the council, for this outpost to remain free to operate as Septimus needed it to.

And when the time came, no amount of friendship or respect between him and his commander would prevent him from following through on his orders.

Elderly could easily die from a strike that would only annoy a younger Odin. Roark had been skilled enough to disable the old Odin commander without killing him, but it still required him and his team to methodically beat down all of Yill's command staff, so that he could precisely incapacitate Yill himself without distractions that would risk the old raven's life.

It had been a mess. Blood and feathers lay just about everywhere inside the command center, along with a few wounded of his own soldiers tending to their broken bones.

The Gungnir were trained to fight other Odin, they knew the art of bone-snapping with all thirteen different weapons their ranks used. But Hersir were Hersir, and of all the Hersir active in Odin lands, the deadlanders were known to be the most insane of them all. They’d fought like feral animals, and continued to fight long past the point they should have simply surrendered. Most were unconscious now, tightly bound near their commander.

Yill hadn’t been a fool. The moment Roark had returned after a private conference with the high council, the commander seemed to just know the time had come, and ordered his soldiers to attack before Roark could utter the same order. The old commander even had a team dispatched to the power cells already, caught mid-attempt to smuggle them out of Roark’s hands in advance.

But deadland soldiers were trained to handle explosives and heavy machinery. They were military specialized against the infestation. Gungnir were military specialized in beating down rogue Odin. Even with a surprise attack, the result was never in doubt.

“How long do we have?” Roark asked his second in command.

Igret followed behind him into the command center, her wings slightly bloodied from the prior fight. She was among the most dedicated Odin he knew, ever straight and focused on her task.

“Estimate within the hour the camp will have mutinied.” She said, her wing slightly opened on her right, still hurt. She made no show of weakness. “The translator hasn’t returned to us yet, either the human is trusting us with the power cells, or he hasn’t yet noticed the events.”

“We’ll consider him a lost asset. Is this all we could collect that are loyal?”

Igret tapped her beak on the ground in affirmative. “The outside ring is composed of the chaft. They’ve only been recently assigned to the deadlands and haven’t gone native yet, we’ve promised them early reassignment out of the deadlands after all this is complete. Only a few Gungnir are not present, out on mission.”

“How many in total?”

“Roughly two hundred and fifty, sir.”

“You’ll be swept aside by sheer numbers once the soldiers here realize.” Yill said from where he’d been thrown. His words were slurred, difficult to understand given most of his body was bound and wrapped up in netting.

Roark hopped nearby, beak looking down on his old commander. “The ancients had quite a lot of doctrine on military matters. I wasn’t simply biding my time, commander, assuming nothing would ever happen. Or thinking a few elite soldiers who knew how to fight wing to wing would be enough. No, I studied. I planned. In the event I need to contain the deadlanders, we are prepared to hold you off for long enough for reinforcements arrive.”

“I doubt any plan could have factored in an ancient in the center of things.” Yill coughed out, a dark chuckle came out, vibrating his feathers.

Roark said nothing to that. The ex-commander was correct. The human was the one thing he hadn’t planned or prepared for. His Gungnir could hold off most of the outpost indefinitely, so long as they followed the procedures and were careful with what zones to hold and what to give up on. But with the human, holding onto the command center was meaningless.

“You are, unfortunately, correct. Force multipliers no longer matter anymore, the human would batter through any amount of resistance.” All the prepared sabotage plans, all the surgical cuts in supply lines and organizational structures would break the outpost’s ability to retake the command center in the long run. But the war against a human wouldn’t last hours, it would be over in minutes.

Yill turned to the two power cells lightly glowing in the side of the room. Brought here to protect them from any early attempt by Yill to smuggle them out. A good precaution, since his gungnir had caught Yill’s squad of twenty. The race for control of those cells had been critical, and Roark had won it.

He considered the two national treasures one last time, but still could not come up with any situation where the human didn’t win and take these for himself.

“Sir?” Igret asked.

 “We have no hope of holding these cells out of his hands. Drain them into the ground far away, and bury it all with dirt. I’ll fly to the nearest fountain personally to see if I can disable it. Send a team to do the same with the current cell in use, this entire outpost can be considered fallen to the enemy as of now.”

Egret barked out orders, drafting a team on the spot to handle the power cells, and one to accompany him on his flight to the nearest mite fountain. He left her to it, contemplating the message and orders he’d received from the high council.

The era of the Icon was threatened beyond anything the Odin could have prepared for. But there was a possible way to weave through it all.

Outside the human had finished his feast, now speaking with the translator some more. That helmet constantly turning to look up at the command center. Roark couldn’t tell if the human had already raised suspicions, but his instincts told him he had to move faster.

The squads were assembled. Both outside and within the center. If they had some greyroamers here, they might have had better chances against the human. Those giants were the only ones strong enough to carry the human blades in their jaws. Research and development had never been able to recreate the ancient weapons in a small enough form factor for his soldiers to carry.

Roark turned to the Odin gathered before him. It was time. “Gungir. Today we learned the infestation can be reasoned with and hasn’t been active against the Odin this whole time. This forsaken outpost far removed from all civilization never had a reason to exist in the first place. The machines have all withdrawn out of our sights, the council expect a massive wave to appear any moment now, likely to hunt down the human here. Our home has already come under attack by the machines, and they’ve proved themselves far above her power.”

The Gungnir here remained silent, watching their leader give his final speech. They all knew the kind of wind that was under their wings.

“The high council has finally left deliberations and ordered that the human must be killed so that the Odin can survive. Víkingr Reman attempted a coup and was deposed by the combined might of the Gungnir and Víkingr Verrian who remained loyal. Víkingr Septimus was already sent here with an army before the revolt, no communication is possible with his forces until he arrives. The council will not take a chance on which side his loyalty lies. And so today, we kill a myth. Today we prove that the Gungnir are worthy of our title. We have only hours to complete the task, but we will not fail, and we will not falter. Dismissed!”

The command center instantly went into a frenzy of activity. All except for the old commander, coughing on the side of the room. Roark realized he was laughing at them.

He came closer, if only out of respect to hear his old commander’s parting barbs.

“You won’t win against the human.” Yill coughed out. “He’s survived the machines, survived the infestation, he’ll survive your little coup here and easily crush whatever meager resistance you could bring out. You may as well have been ordered to stand and die here.”

“Then we die here.” Roark said, beak staring him down. “For our people.” He turned to Igret, eyes hard, feathers ready for battle. “As soon as the human realizes he’s being stalled, send an order to the generator team. Drain the active power cell, cut off all power and set this outpost on fire.”

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“So.” Keith said, head turned to the command center. “Your militia-priest-warrior rank - which is apparently not the same as your normal military rank - got called in four years ago in the same convoy you came, with one of them replacing the old second-in-command?”

Rashant rubbed his beak on the powerwire in acknowledgement. “Yes, that is correct. If I might ask, why are you so focused on the Gungir and Hersir definitions?”

The human didn’t answer that one, helmet still pointed at where the gungnir were running around organizing. A few had spotted that the human was looking their way, but other than stopping for a brief second to stare back, they continued to scramble at full speed.

“The commander of your outpost here, Yill you said his name was? Is he in the military faction or the warrior-priest faction?” Keith asked.

“Hersir Yill? He has been in command of the deadlands for a decade now. I believe he was one of the soldiers sent here as punishment, and rose the ranks instead.” It was difficult for Rashant to add the extra subdivision designation, since that part was indicated through body motions in the head. But the human seemed to understand well enough.

“Punishment?” The giant raised a hand in front of Rashant before he could answer. “No, no, let me guess. This far out from civilization, and fighting against Bob, serving here is probably seen as a threat to keep soldiers in line. ‘Follow orders or get reassigned to the wall’ How close am I?”

“You are… well, correct. Why do you ask?”

“I’ll get to that in a moment.” The giant said. “What was the official reason the second-in command had to be replaced? The commander here’s been on watch for a decade now, so I’m assuming the second in command was equally doing just fine here.”

“Early retirement, if I remember right.”

“Uh huh.” Keith said, the voice still passive and flat. “You never thought it strange that a replacement for the second in command also came with a small platoon of warrior-priests loyal to him?”

Given the gungnir were now running all across the command center tower, Rashant was now having those doubt. “At the time, I did not consider it? Hersir Roark was an ex-gungnir, and those who flew with him here came to support him, likely as old friends and comrades from their past. Should I… erm, should I fly over there to see if I might confirm some of this?”

The human’s helmet turned to stare him down. He could hear the whirling gears deep within that armor, still well powered and coiled like a snake. “Well, if you’re asking my opinion about this, I would tell you that’d be a terrible idea.”

He felt his talons nervously curl and uncurl on the power line. He didn’t like this at all. There was something in the air. “... and why would that be a terrible idea?”

The human was touching the bottom of his helmet with his hands, as if looking for some hidden button with his thumb. “Because if I’m not mistaken, I think your current commander just got deposed in a four year scheme triggered early. And if you fly up there, they’ll net you up and toss you in with the other prisoners they have up there.”

Rashant gave a terrified squawk. “Prisoners? What?”

The human tilted his head, shoulders lifting up and down in slow motion. “There’s been a fight up there. No deaths that I could see, but ten birds are tied up. Can’t tell who’s who.”

The human could see through walls? No, not the human. His armor likely had sensors or something that let him get a better picture. Perhaps he had a drone of his own flying further off, sending him video footage?

The other deadland soldiers seemed to pick up that the human was looking up to the command tower often. Many had started to look upwards and notice only the gungnir scrambling around like an overturned ant colony up there. Questions were starting to float around.

Insane to think about. The Gungnir were dedicated to law and order. They’re the last to want to rebel against order. This was insane. He ruffled his feathers, which the rest of the deadland soldiers noticed, picking up on his fear. Sounds of chatter stopped. He nervously waved them off, turning back to the quiet human beside him.

There was only one question he really had: “But, why would they want to capture me for? I am only a translator, I have no military skills or significance to any of this.”

Keith hummed, which sounded like a deep vibration to everyone around him. His helmet scanned the other soldiers nearby. “Folks, raise your beaks if any of you can understand me.”

The Deadland soldiers around him continued to chatter and gossip among themselves, still trying to guess what the discussion between the translator and the human was about. They were starting to question what was going on in the tower. Rumors were already spreading out, and a few were organizing to check in on things.

None realized Keith had asked a question for them specifically.

“See? Out of everyone in this outpost, looks like you’re the only one I can talk to. And I’d bet if there was a second backup translator somewhere, you’re mysteriously not going to find them anywhere now. So if you flew back up there, you’d be netted down and kept in their backpocket. That way they’ve got the additional option to negotiate with me, and nobody else can.”

The systematic and pragmatic logic the human gave filled Rashant with more and more dread. But the human hadn’t even finished speaking. “Trying to be covert tells the rest of the picture. Means they had no choice but to keep it covert. And the only reason they’d need to be sneaky is that there’s a faction more powerful than them in this outpost right now that would object to the decade-long commander being deposed.” The human’s hand lifted once more, a finger uncurled and tapped the helmet. “And with the commander as the target, that means he’s not an ally to them and could mess up their coup attempt. So what faction is larger than your police-priest numbers, that are loyal to your commander?”

Rashant straightened up and looked around him at all the gathered deadlanders. “I see what you mean.”

“This isn’t the most convoluted political scheme I’ve seen before. It’s fairly straightforward.” Keith said. “I don’t see any double betrayals, splinter factions, power struggles or proxy agents preparing anything in the background. No threats being given in a back alley, or beating up others behind everyone’s backs. No one’s taking personal vendettas out while there’s distractions everywhere. It’s well organized, and everyone’s lockstep behind your friend Roark. Easy to work with.”

The information seemed to boggle his mind. “Easy to work with? What kind of world do you come from?”

“Humans are dramatic in nature.” The human did a slow motion with his shoulders again, both moving at the same time, hands lifting up to follow. “You get used to it.”

Rashant didn’t think he could get used to it. This currently felt like he was living three lifetimes worth of events in under three hours so far. First the human shows up, then the infestation turns out to be sentient, machines are active again and now there was a coup attempt on the hersir-commander himself. Right under the nose of the deadlanders?

“Are you going to open fire on them right now, or cut the tower down? What do... What do you think we should do?”

“Nothing. We do nothing.” Keith said, two hands slapping each other up and down. “I know where the power cells are. The first thing they did was make sure those cells were in the center of their controlled space, that's what I'd do. Probably they're debating how to take me out of the picture, and they’ll soon realize they got nothing. So they'll go for second best, asset denial. They'll go dump and hide the cells somewhere outside of the outpost. Which is exactly the best time for me to go and do a little stealing.”

Rashant considered it from the gungnir’s point of view. The ancient human was a seven foot tall titan that loomed far above any Odin. A mechanical tank piloted by an experienced and ancient warrior, prepared for war and already inside their fortified walls.

Keith outclassed any weapon or tactic the gungnir could do to keep him away from the power cells, and they knew it.

Of course they’d eventually decide to dump out the power cells. “And so... You’re simply waiting for them to move?”

“Yep.” He answered. “I could storm up that tower, but there's hundreds of nests and buildings in the stairwell up there, and all over the tower sides too. Just getting my hand inside there means half the outpost is ripped apart. Better to wait for them to bring the cells out instead. I’d continue eating a few more meals, but I suspect they’re going to start anytime now. There is one last thing I do need to confirm: What side are you on Rashant?”

He wasn’t a nestling barely learning how to fly. Rashant immediately knew he’d rather put his shinies on the massive ancient weapon of war that stood next to him rather than any other side.

“What should I do?” He asked.

“That’s the spirit.” The human said. “I want you to let the deadland soldiers know the situation. And that I’ll be moving to secure the power cells that had been promised. The rest will get taken care of.”

“If I say that, the deadland soldiers might become… erm, violent.”

“That’s what I’m hoping happens.” Keith said. “Easy way to tell if the soldiers here are going to work with me in the future, or pick to follow authority." Keith said, folding his hands together and stretching the fingers against each other. The plate clicked slightly, but otherwise held firm. "And speaking of events, looks like our chat time is over.”

Rashant ruffled his feathers one last time, beak nervously looking up at the tower. The deadlands soldiers had already started to notice most were being driven away, told only gungnir were being allowed anywhere near the control center.

They all knew something was off about all this. And when the human drew out his weapon, it solidified it.

Rashant opened his beak, and spoke the words to the soldiers.

Absolute chaos descended not even an instant after.