Steel and Mana

Flying over the moving army, from the cockpit of my plane, they all looked less like men and more like our own beast tide. I watched as the columns of halftracks left dust trails behind them, before increasing our speed and raising our altitude, heading out to another scouting mission as the main army left their temporary campsite. I pulled on the stick, my plane reacting instantly, giving me a feeling I couldn't get enough of. Flying was way too addictive... Shaking my head, I leveled out my plan and keyed my mic.

"Eagle Squadron, form up. Altitude... six thousand. We're moving ahead of the column, keep your eyes peeled."

Static hissed for a moment as I waited for confirmation, followed by Brask's usual, nonchalant voice.

"Copy that, Eagle Leader. You sound tense already... Too long sitting on the ground does that to you, eh?"

"If the army stops, we stop." I exhaled through my nose, shaking my head. "Just keep your eyes forward. If anything's out there, we'll see it before the others do, and you can flex your muscles a little."

"Oh, for sure! With how bright it is today, if anything's out there, it would be better for them to find a shade to hide under."

To that, a ripple of chuckles carried over the comms from the other pilots, and I allowed it. As our Sovereign instructed us, morale mattered a lot, and Brask was good at keeping it up, even if he was a bit... unorthodox.

Our formation contained twelve aircraft, eight fighters, and four dive bombers. All of our engines and the fine parts under the plating were serviced during our two-day stop, as we waited for the rest of the army to catch up. It allowed the mechanics and gave them time to service the planes. The rough landings and takeoffs on makeshift fields could rattle things inside, and it wasn't a cushioned feeling for my butt either whenever we had to roll out. Not to mention the landing part… I saw some of ours skidding, almost flipping the plane on wet grass. But the moment we were in the sky? All that didn't matter anymore.

So far, we have fought four minor skirmishes. I mean, the spearhead of the army fought them with a few packets of beasts, all on the smaller side. The moment they saw or sensed the mechs, they scattered… most of the time. When that happened, we usually tracked them while the ground troops dealt with them; it was simple and easy. As for big ones? None appeared. Yet. But I wasn't naive. I knew it was simply a question of when and not if.

We were out for about half an hour when we noticed something.

The first signs were dust plumes rising from the east. It could have been just the wind, being faint at first, but then it became thicker as our squadron closed the gap to check the source out. At this distance, it was unmistakable, as it was accompanied by the moving shapes of creatures down below. And if anything moved, it had to be the monsters.

"Contact," I snapped the radio on, "Bearing one-two-eight. Right below us, do you see them?"

"Copy, Eagle Leader," Brask answered first, "They are indeed there!"

The shapes, as we flew over them, turned into dozens, then into hundreds of galloping figures. Each one was relatively big, around four, maybe five meters tall at the shoulder. At first glance, they did resemble horses, but no horse I knew of had scaled hides that shimmered green in the sun... And no horses had tails that whipped like segmented clubs behind them when another got too close... They are pretty fast, probably faster than an actual horse. But not as fast as a plane can be, so when we overshot them, we began spreading out while turning.

"They're not running from us," one of the wingmen reported, "They're moving straight west."

"Straight for the army," another agreed.

"Eagles, we go in hot." I decided there and then. We were scouting, yes, but we also had the means to deal with issues on this level. "Brask, you're on me. First, we will pass over them, suppressing fire on my mark to try and break their lines and steer them to a different direction. Bombers, set for dive sequence on that mark and aim for their biggest clusters."

"Oh, finally," Brask laughed, "Been itching for some action!"

There was no need to reply to that. I just pushed the plane's nose down, lining my sights on the densest cluster. When I squeezed the trigger, tracer fire shattered the earth, and to my satisfaction, some of the beasts' backs, cutting through the front rank. One beast's spine snapped in a spray of blood while another stumbled, crushed under the others, but the group kept running, and not even deviating from their original direction.

Following my strafe, Brask came in from my right, rolling his fighter, probably just because he found it stylish as his guns raked across three of the monsters, ripping a forelimb clean off one and sending another tumbling. Of course, over comms, he was laughing, always forgetting to turn it off.

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"Like shooting fat birds! Big, ugly, scaly birds!"

"Stay sharp," I snapped at him while banking hard to gain altitude once more.

Down below, one of the beasts suddenly leapt, compared to their sizes, impossibly high, its tail snapping at the sky, at us, trying to land a hit. For a brief moment, from where I was, it looked as if it might catch Brask's tail fin. But his reflexes were on point, and he rolled just in time, making the sudden retaliation miss, watching the beast land back on the ground.

"Close shave!" Brask yelped, but his voice sounded unbothered, "The bastards can jump, I give them that."

"Mark it, as we will need it in the report!" I replied, watching the rest, but all went well, "They've got vertical reach... Eagle Squad, adjust attack vectors! We are only doing high strafe, no low sweeps!"

The bombers dove next. Their built-in sirens wailed as their engines screamed, their shapes flying downward like a hunting hawk. I watched as the payload was let loose, and they began ascending, flying over the erupting explosion coming from down below. It was much more effective than anything else could be, decimating beasts in the dozens. Just one explosion ripped geysers of dirt and blood way up into the sky. Their bodies flipped like toys, limbs torn free, jaws cracked open, and their bastardly tails ripped. One blast left a crater about ten meters wide, swallowing half a dozen beasts whole who couldn't avoid it… Good. As a second strike from the others annihilated them.

"Pull up, pull up! Eagles, reset formation!" I called to say our first run finished.

"Yeah!" Brask's voice cut back in, exhilarated, "That'll teach them to play cavalry! You see that one go flying? Hah! Looked like a child's doll, being thrown in a tantrum!"

"Focus," I growled, but even I couldn't deny the satisfaction. They deserved it.

I have seen the desolation they brought to this land. All the skeletons, the carcasses of villages we passed by… Ghosts, nothing more. Nothing lived here, no animals, no humans… not even bugs. It became the land of monsters. They were taking over, without holding back. Well, now, it was time to kick them out of our land and show them that they knocked on the wrong Pass!

By the third flyby, the herd was broken.

Some of them tried to scatter, but my squadron picked them apart like wolves thinning sheep with their guardian dog nowhere to be seen. It was a good feeling. Some tried leaping again, but none made it close this time, and they were dead by the time they fell back to the ground. The survivors, those that remained, had bolted eastward, abandoning the route they were originally on. There weren't many of them, so… I let them. We were low on ammo already, and if we engage again, that could become dangerous. Let the other squadrons have something to hunt, too.

"That will be it," I toggled my comms, speaking before Brask thinks it is time to fly after them. "The main target has been neutralized. Marking coordinates... We will head back to brief headquarters about our findings."

"And my kills." Brask added, "If I counted right, I have at least thirty ground targets."

"I got that with one bomb," one of the dive bombers chimed in.

"Showoff," Brask answered, and then both of them laughed.

"Keep the chatter to a minimum," I muttered as we took up formation again, heading back towards the west. "Let's head back."

…
….
……

The report came through an hour after the Eagles returned.

I stood over the active map projection, generated from the Imaginary, showcased in Camelot's command chamber. The shifting lines on it showed our forward route in pale blue lines, now joined by the markings of where Lazlow and Eagle Squadron had seen the beasts and fought them.

"Confirmed the engagement in the report," Kustov read from the transcript Lazlow's people delivered, "The numbers mentioned here put them in the hundreds. Fast, aggressive types and the attempted aerial interception by leaping... A type of wave like that usually falls under the control of a big one."

"Usually," I rubbed my thumb along the edge of the table, thinking, "Were there any casualties?"

"None, My Sovereign. Our pilots report ammunition expenditure at sixty percent for the fighters, one hundred percent for the bombers. The enemy herd was broken, and the survivors scattered east. But the bulk of it was destroyed."

"We will see…" I exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing on the eastern edge of the projection. A herd that size didn't just appear from nowhere, and it was our first significant contact with a tide-like formation. If they were running west, they had been driven by something, or they were part of a larger unit… Maybe there is a nest nearby. Or, they took over one where we cleaned house previously.

"Nothing else to report, My Sovereign." Kustov finished, putting away the papers in his hand.

"Mhm," After thinking it over, I said, "Order Lucca to reinforce the perimeter at our present campsite. I want a half circle of mech pickets along the eastern arc and the artillery to be ready to deploy."

"Are we expecting trouble?" Kustov asked, making me nod.

"I have a hunch… a feeling." I muttered, furrowing my brows, "And if more of those scaled horses come, I don't want them breaking into our camp while we sleep."

"Yes, Sovereign." Kustov saluted sharply, already transmitting the orders while I leaned over the table, studying the miniature icons representing our troops.

"Another transmission, Sovereign," a comms officer called out to me, "It is from Princess Seltana aboard the Stormbringer."

"I'm all ears."

"The report says," the officer continued, "They are south-east of our present position. The Stormbringer had reached the Khulman forces, and they should be joining us within the next twenty-four hours."

"Good," I answered, straightening. Finally, we will be complete… Somehow, I feel it is just in time. "Kustov."

"Yes, Sovereign?"

"Send down the news that we will wait for them before moving again. When the Khulmani forces arrive, we will regroup and plot our route to the border crossing between the old Markoth and Airosia… Make sure we have all the relevant information ready when we sit down with the Khan. I don't need hiccups but proper details."

"Of course," He bowed his head. "It will be done."

Somehow, looking out at the setting sun and the campsite being built, I still had the feeling that before we met the Khan, we would have a fight… and the feeling was coming from close by… I don't know why, but it did. Maybe I should not reapply the blood tattoo for tonight. I had these feelings since my meeting with that supposed ancestor of mine… Maybe… I wasn't sure if there was a connection, but… Tonight, I'll give it a shot.