Chapter Text
They complained at every turn, but Lena couldn’t help but notice they at least knew what they were doing, to an extent. They knew how to load into the juggernauts, and they didn’t ask any questions about the controls. A gaggle of younger cadets shared a cigarette as she walked by. She declined to tell them off about it, reminding herself that it was likely to be their last time as a group of friends.
But they decided to come to her. “What, Major? No tsking, not even for a ciggy?” one called out.
“How about a kiss for good luck?” another said. “Carthage can’t be that good of a kisser – I’m sure I’m better.”
“Come on, we’re going off to be heroes like those 86 you love so much!”
Lena paused, momentarily confused, and turned to look at them. “So you think the 86 are heroes?”
“Hell no,” the young man said. “They clearly fucked up. Had one job, you know. But seems to get you wet so…” He gave her elevator eyes.
She wished she could be surprised that they were still pulling this nonsense when the city was about to be razed. Frowning, she shook her head. “Tell me that again in four hours and I’ll give you that kiss.”
“Me too?” one of them asked. “Hey, no fair! I’ll take a smack on the ass!” He and the other two broke into cackles.
“Sure,” Lena sighed. “If you live.”
“Is there a problem here?” Robert came around one of the machines. “Get that cig out you dumbasses – there’s fuel here, fuck. And get in your rigs.”
The boys quickly inhaled the last half centimeter of imitation tabacco and stamped it out. “Better watch your woman, Carthage!” One tossed over his shoulder. “She just promised us a kiss and an ass slap when we come back.”
“She can do what she wants. You have to do what I want. Get going.”
“Whatever,” one muttered. “I’m just here to prove it’s not that damn hard. Those pigs are being pussies.” But he jumped into his juggernaut and closed the hatch.
She and Robert watched the three men slowly start to maneuver their rigs towards the soirtee point. Robert looked stormy, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the juggernauts pick their way across rubble, moving at what she knew was less than a quarter of the speed of Brisingamen squad’s soirtees. “What’s the first clash survival rate again?” he asked.
“Less than five percent.” Lena murmured, pulling her hat lower over her face so the wind couldn’t tousle her hair any more than it already was. She probably ought to have Annette braid her hair – she wasn’t going to be able to bathe for at least a few weeks, if they survived that long. Funny – she’d been saying that to herself for years. When the invasion comes, I’ll probably die. But now that it was here… well, she thought she had done some acceptance of her pending death, but now, she couldn’t bring herself to it.
Robert was silent, brooding on his own thoughts. “I see why you promised them that kiss.” He said.
“It’ll be a little awkward if they live,” she said.
“They’ll be too traumatized to remember.” Robert muttered. “Miseluna is right. We’re so damn soft. I’m already internally bitching about how I won’t get to sleep in my bed tonight.”
“I was just thinking about how long it would be before I can get a bath,” Lena shook her head. “Provided we live.”
“Provided we live,” Robert echoed. “How long until Brisingamen arrives?”
“About four hours. They estimate there’s a relatively small wave ahead of them. If they catch up and we haven’t taken it out, they’re prepared to fight from behind.”
“We’ve got about one hundred and ten fighters,” Robert said.
“Less than our best case but better than our worst case,” Lena said. “If we keep even thirty of them through this first fight, we’ll have a better idea of our chances for the next few weeks.”
“God damn,” Robert whispered. “I brought these boys to die.”
“Wasn’t you,” Lena said darkly. “It was the ones who hung their hat on scapegoating the 86 rather than facing up to the war.”
“So, my grandfather.”
“And mine.”
They glanced at each other once, nodded, and turned from each other. Robert went forward to address the troops. Lena peeled off to where they were setting up her command station – out in the evening air since the building was expected to lose power and become a death trap. Annette and Miriam were setting up tables and connecting screens to sensors. Some of Zacks’ friends from school had shown up and were tidying wires, fine-tuning programs, and cleaning up as they went.
“I think we’re as ready as we’re going to be,” Annette said as Lena walked up, nodding to Miriam. “Worked just like in practice.”
“Glad we hired the interns,” Annette mused. “We sorted out all the bugs last week.”
Lena took a deep breath. “Good,” she said. “I’m going to check on Brisingamen. Monitor the other bank. Has the broadcast gone out?”
“Since about thirty minutes ago,” Zack called from his spot. “Charges are set too.”
“No one stopped us?” Lena asked, surprised that none of Kharlstals faction had said anything about blowing out the bridges.
“One of the teams reported that a group of soldiers started to give him grief, but a commanding officer told them to leave it alone and focus on the battle ahead.”
Robert was giving the soldiers a briefing which explained how to fight in a funnel while keeping themselves safe from projectiles. Lena grimaced. They had given a few people para-raids so they could communicate – the ones with the best chances for survival by Roberts account – but for the most part, these pilots were going in blind and with no experience or guidance.
But they wanted to wait until the last moment to blow the bridges so as many people could flee as possible. But balancing that timing… they had decided to announce that the bridges would come down about thirty minutes before the Legion were projected to arrive, but wait until fifteen minutes before to actually do it. That way, people would be able to see some signs of the Legion arriving and maybe take the hint to leave. At least, she hoped so.
Majesty, Shiden’s voice was still deep and clear over the para-raid as it had always been. It occurred to Lena that with as deep as Shiden’s voice was, she could have passed for a man. We’re about half way. We’re behind a pretty big force. Main force is probably still behind us, but I think the front guard was a little bigger than we thought.
“Understood,” Lena replied. “Have you got a lock on my location?”
Yes. Shiden said. ETA is three hours and forty five minutes.
Legion ETA was in one hour. Half hour to the bridges. Then half hour of waiting. They only had to survive totally on their own for two hours and forty five minutes, then.
How’s your chances? Shiden asked slowly. Are we likely to see you?
“Depends on how well Robert trained them,” Lena murmured. “If they were totally green, we’d be dead.”
You’ll be fine, Shana piped up. He’s been telling them that they’ll have to fight the Northerners for land soon. They’ve been training pretty hard.
Lena blinked. “He’s been what?” she asked, then shook her head. “Never mind. Focus on getting here. If there are civilians when you get in, they’ve been warned that it won’t be safe on that side of the river. Don’t stop until you get to us. They might even follow you.”
Now isn’t that a nice thought, Shiden chuckled. Good luck, Majesty. We’ll take bets on the percentage of your newbies that survive.
“Put me in for thirty percent,” Lena said, and cut the connection. She stared into space for a moment. She was going to meet them soon. In person. Even Spearhead had never actually seen her in person. The thought was terrifying and yet still exciting.
Eventually, Annette waved her over. “There’s a bunch of people on the other bank just… standing there. We managed to get someone to talk to us, and they said they don’t really believe it’s going to happen, so they’re just there to watch and decide later. So Zack had an idea. Should we blow one early so people know we’re serious?”
Lena considered. There were two bridges fairly close to one another. They were half an hour early, but if people started to take it seriously…
“Do the Lancaster street bridge first,” she said. “It’s a smaller bridge, and only a block from Third Street bridge.”
Annette nodded. “That’s about what we thought. We sent people with bullhorns to warn them and set the charges.”
It was only five minutes before the explosion rumbled over them. From her position a block in from the bridges, Lena heard screams of terror. Zack’s voice came over the short-distance radio they’d set up. It would probably fail as soon as the Einsflage showed up, but for now it was useful. “That did it. Seeing people come out and cross now. Some of them are even carrying provisions.”
They had told people to bring non-perishable foods if possible, but Lena hadn’t really expected anyone from the noble districts to listen. It may have been some of the servants though, with a stronger sense of self-preservation than privilege.
But just as the relief of people actually listening to their warnings had a chance to be fully absorbed, there was another sound, far in the distance. Crackles and pops, like fireworks, but somehow deeper and more vicious. Lena was certain that the sounds of the city normally would have swallowed up the distant rumbling, which was almost thunder-like in it’s subtlety. Unfortunately, she and Robert had poured over a map of San Magnolia nearly six months ago, and she knew exactly what it was.
Robert referred to it as a speed-bump. It was the reason their estimates of Legion arrival were plus 15 minutes of the direct travel time from the Gran Mur to the capital. It was also their canary in the coal mine. There were only thirty minutes until the outer parts of the capital were breached.
A small town named Weaverville sat on the road to the Gran Mur. Its population was only in the ten-thousand range, but it had a small downtown district that touted itself as an “escape from the big city.” It was those buildings that were now being destroyed.
“Robert – Weaverville is down,” Lena said over the para-raid.
“Got it. Blow the bridges now just in case something goes wrong. I’ll get them in formation.”
Annette was nodding, and tapped her computer a few times. This time, Lena could hear the announcements for the bridges blare into the night.
Attention, Attention. All bridges will be demolished in fifteen minutes. Please evacuate and be across the bridge before fifteen minutes have passed.
Attention, Attention…
Zack had at least three different people on top of various buildings, looking over the bank to give reports on which bridge had people on them, where the legion were, if there were survivors in the water… At the five minute mark, he shook his head. “Spotters reporting there’s no one on the bridges or on the other side. If they were coming, they already came.”
“I’ll change the announcement,” Annette said, grimacing. Lena pressed her lips together. They didn’t have a guess on how many people had evacuated, but from her point of view, it was only a hundred, maybe two. Even if every bridge had seen that many… that was hardly anyone. At least ten thousand people lived on that side of the river.
Attention, Attention. All bridges will be demolished starting now. Please stand clear of the bridge. If you wish to evacuate, use an alternative route. Starting count down. Ten. Nine. Eight…
Lena didn’t hear the rest, covering her ears as Zack flipped the buttons on the many receivers he had arrayed on the table in front of him. She counted with him as he pressed buttons, heart pounding.
One – it was a small pedestrian bridge they had considered leaving intact until Lena reminded them of human-shaped mines which would be able to sneak across.
Two – the first bridge built to motor car specifications.
Three – The most beautiful bridge in san Magnolia, decorated with graceful lattices of wrought iron painted in white – in the summer it was covered in delicate rose vines.
Four – The bridge dedicated to Saint Magnolia, where her father had taken her walking as a young girl.
Five – Third Street, the largest of the bridges.
Six was Lancaster, it was already down. Seven was the bridge they were situated on, but Zack counted them out anyway.
Eight – Her mother’s favorite bridge, it was thick and covered in moss, but her mother had admired the old fashioned nostalgia of it.
Nine – The statue bridge, where statues of the first ten presidents of San Magnolia were cast in bronze. Student superstition said that rubbing the sixth president’s big toe was good luck on exams.
Ten – The only suspension bridge and the newest in the capital. It had been built during the war to “prove” that everything was fine.
Eleven – The one that had collapsed when she was a little girl, prompting her mother to wildly attempt to contact her father. It was rebuilt only a year later.
Twelve – The bridge that was directly down the road from Annette’s house.
Thirteen – Her favorite bridge because her father had contributed to the engineering on it. It was actually quite ugly, but Zack had praised how difficult it was to find the weak spot to blow… so that was something.
And finally, fourteen – Another small pedestrian bridge, but this one was more difficult to blow up because it was within the botanical gardens of the capital, where her parents had been married.
By the time the explosions were over, everyone had their ears covered. Zack was panting and pale, as if he had dismantled each bridge by hand himself in the last three minutes.
They waited. Finally, Zack spoke into his radio. “Did we get clean breaks?” he asked.
Nothing.
“Copy?”
Finally, garbled words. “Cl-*** ****K. I REPEAT, CLEAN- ****. CLE- BREAK.”
“They’re close,” Annette whispered, going pale as the static over the radio grew, “tell your spotters to get down.”
Zack was already turning, repeating the stand down and get clear order into his radio ten times. They had guessed they would lose radio, and ten repetitions was agreed to make it clear that all radio coms were now silent and all spotters should return to base as soon as possible to report their messages in person. Still, Lena thought, it was an impressive thing to have a clean break on all thirteen bridges.
“Good job,” she said. “Thirteen clean breaks is impressive.”
“Thanks,” Zack said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess you’re up. Good luck.”
Lena took a breath, let it out, and nodded. “Yeah,” she said, and turned to her console, turning on her para-raid. “Handler one to all San Magnolia commanders. Do you read me?”