Chapter Fifty-Seven - Before the Storm

Chapter Fifty-Seven - Before the Storm

Chapter Fifty-Seven - Before the Storm

Times change, weapons change, but the fundamentals dont.

You have no idea how hard it is to armour someone up so that a piece of metal moving really fast cant kill them. In the eternal arms race between projectile and armour, the projectile has one hell of a lead.Th.ê most uptodate novels are published on n(0)velbj)n(.)co/m

We keep that race going. This year we introduce civilian-grade class seven armour. Able to stop even a DMR round dead in its tracks. We also introduced a new 9.50mm AP round which can brush through class seven like its tissue paper.

--Mestle Arms and Childcare Division head, 2039

***

You know, Id appreciate any advice you can give, Jimothy said. He rubbed at his chin, where there was a bit of stubble. Not enough to be like... hot guy on a poster stubble. He looked more like someone that needed to shave. Then again, I wasnt really keen on facial hair.

How long have you been a samurai for? I asked. It couldnt be too long if he didnt have a name. Then again, Gomorrah had gone around without one for a bit.

Jimothy shrugged. About... four hours now? Five? I dont know, the days been pretty busy.

Huh, I said.

Yup. Was back home, minding my own, when some monsters roamed over. I lived by Hitchens Brooke, out to the east of here. Nice little community. Anyway, I thought we were right done for when the aliens started showing up in the morning.

You decided to stay there? I asked.

We were packing still. We decided to move as a big group. Smart thing to do, you know? More people means more protection, but also more chances of getting help if something goes wrong. But it also means that we were slow. Couple of retirees over there, you know? Not the fastest tool in the shed.

I wasnt sure if that was how the expression went, but I didnt have the credentials to second guess him. Yeah, fair. So you took a stand or something?

Mmmhm, with my great-grandpas Mosin. Took out a few beasties. Then this nasty tentacled fuck, pardon my French, showed up. Ate nearly every round I had. Grabbed me by the leg and I only got out of there because I gotta a knife in my pocket. It did let the others get to safety.

Youre a brave one, I said.

He chuckled. Didnt you have to do the same?

Well, no, I only had to kill two of them.

Just two? You got off easy.

I only had one arm at the time, and a piece of pipe, I defended.

Grumbling to myself, and deciding that Id commiserate with Lucy later--because shed think it was funny, if nothing else--I returned to the centre of the area I was meant to protect. Alright, Myalis, we need mortars. Im thinking six or so of them? In a rough line. We can load them up with something that goes boom in a big way. Oh, maybe some sort of frag rounds? Really punch holes into the bastards.

There are a multitude of flavours of fragmentation rounds. Though, seeing as how youll likely want to avoid collateral, perhaps proximity-detonated macro-fragmentation shells?

Sounds hot. And we have plenty of points to spend, I said. More explosions sounded out, from behind and before the gap. I glanced back and spotted a few artillery barrages starting to open up. The arcs they were firing in were landing shells only a few hundred metres deeper into the outer city.

How close was the wave?

Six mortar systems, coming right up.

Six light thumps sounded around me, and I jumped back as six boxes, as big as I was--armour and all--appeared next to me. Then twelve more thumps sounded and a gaggle of cat mechas unfolded themselves and ran around so that there were two per box.

The cats grabbed onto little handles and lifted the boxes up, then started to move across the area.

Theyll set up the mortars. Each team has twenty rounds already, though youll want to replenish those eventually.

Can we auto-buy new rounds as theyre depleted? I asked.

That is certainly an option. Do you wish to?

As long as it doesnt break the bank.

The nearest cats opened up their case, which unfolded into hydraulic legs and a long tube with a case next to it and a bunch of measuring doo-dads and what I suspected were recoil-tubes to absorb any impact when they fired. These were less mortars and more small artillery pieces, I realised.

A bunch of PMCs and militia-folk were staring as one of the cats opened the breach, loaded in a shell, then hopped onto two legs and started to turn a little adjustment wheel to point the barrel sky-wards.

Nothing to see here, folks, I said. Just some robotic cats about to do some weird shit. That was mostly aimed at the one guy who was very clearly filming with the augmentation covering an eye.

Cat, you might want to direct your attention to the Familys map.

I frowned and did just that.

There was a lot of red. More than even the initial wave had. What the fuck.

It seems as though this second attempt will be somewhat more numerous than the first. More diffused too. Expect to see an increase in higher-ranked Antithesis.

Shit, I said. Suddenly, I felt like maybe a few mines and some mortars wasnt going to be enough.

I saw Gomorrah running to the front, and within a half-second, I was doing the same. We needed to break this wave, or else the streets of New Montreal, of my home, would be flooded with alien filth. Again.

***