12 Miles Below

I whistled. My guards had done quite well while I’ve been away. “Two knights against just ten soldiers. Some clans would pay a fortune for those odds. Color me impressed captain.”

The whole area was caked in blood pools, from different sources.

Captain Sagrius came closer, taking my attention. “The blades you crafted made all the difference. No deaths on our side. Turned a fight we’d have had no chance at winning into one where we crushed them.”

Not a perfect curb stomp, but certainly made all the difference to these men. I could see a few holding onto the carbon fiber blades with the kind of respect one would lavish their most prized possessions. It hadn't been earned easily however. Slumped on the wall was one of my own, bandaging his torso with white gauze that was quickly being stained red. He flashed me a quick grin. “Only a graze, master Keith. Dodged most of the hit. I’ll be back in action in no time.”

I don’t know if he was telling the truth or being brave, the bandage hid too much of the damage. I noticed some of the others had also applied bandages on their own arms and legs. Those seemed more like scratches, given that they were all still busy getting the armor peeled off the dead slavers.

“How did you know to cut them off this direction?” I asked. “A gamble?”

“We saw the knights storm into the dance hall before they caught sight of us.” He said. “There were twelve, all grouped up. Gut feeling told me they had come for you. I'm not sure how true that is, only thing that made sense to me. I saw no point in ordering my men to charge against twelve knights, instead I assumed you would find a way to get out and the enemy would be forced to split their team into groups to hunt you down.” He gazed at the two dead slaver knights. “Was right about that part, thank the gods. This pair was clearly rushing to cut someone off. Easy, distracted targets.”

One of the soldiers grinned at that, "Bastards didn't consider us a threat, thought they could just ignore us and run through. Cost them dearly. The hilt guards you've forged into these blades made all the difference. Neither of them had enough time to come up with a counter. They froze up not knowing how to react to that."

Red blood pooled from the dead armored bodies, slowly reaching his feet. He spat down into it. “Slaver scum. Their armor will be put to better use for House Winterscar. And none better than in your hands," He said, pointing straight at me. "We've all seen what you can do in armor.”

Sagrius nodded. “Once you’re armored up master Keith, you will be far more safe. The guard can switch focus to hunting down the scum.”

I realized their unworded agreement. They wanted to give me one of their newly earned armors. Likely believing I could fight the same way I had in Journey. Except, this armor wouldn’t have any of my fractals or personal work on it. Plus, the shields would start out drained off the start, it would take at least ten minutes before they started charging again. In addition to the repair times. I’d gain a good advantage in speed and endurance, but little else.

“It would be a good idea, but my skills come from tinkering with my armor. I engineered Journey to work with me specifically.” I said. “Appreciate the gesture, but those armors will be far more useful in your hands than in mine at this current point.”

The captain gave a salute, not asking questions. “As you will, master Keith. What are your orders?”

“Grab the armors, break into a house nearby and finish repairs and gearing up in hiding. Once you're done, go down the way I came. Look around for a trail of bloody footprints, there's a woman who's an old friend of mine. We were forced to split up, try to see if you can help her until I can double back with my own armor." I gritted my teeth, but ultimately I knew I had to pick the right choice over the one I wanted. These soldiers were committed to following my lead, I had to be someone worth their loyalty. "If it comes down to choosing between the life of your men and yourself or her, abort and protect yourselves first. I'll not demand you to lose your life over what's ultimately a selfish wish."

Sagrius gave a curt nod. "The men will do our best, master Keith. If it is within our power, we'll see to her safety."

"Good." I said, feeling sick to my stomach as I turned to walk in the right direction. "I need to make my way back home, are the comms working?”

The captain shook his head, following at my side. “No, sir. All the Logi comms are all down. The clan is blind right now, we can’t reach the estate grounds. However they hit, they must have struck the Logi castes first before they came to the dance hall. Or hit at the same time.”

Not great, but not unexpected either. “I need to get to the vault and equip Journey one way or another. Once I get into that armor, we’ve got a much better chance.” I turned my walk into a jog. The captain followed behind, motioning two uninjured others to come with him, while silently ordering the rest to remain behind and follow my orders. “We’ll escort you to the gates.” The captain said. “The rest of my men will catch up once they’re done with the salvaged armors and finding your friend.”

The estate grounds were a ten minute jog away, assuming I didn’t run into anything. That’s a long time to run when knights are giving chase behind.

I wasn’t sure if I should order Sagrius to stay put, but the presence of three occult blade wielders who were clearly better warriors than I was, it could make all the difference.

It was about seven minutes into the sprint that I realized how the slavers had gotten this far into the clan. We bolted past what we believed had been other clansmen, up until they stood and pointed rifles at us, shouting for us to stop moving in heavy othersider accents.

The captain didn’t answer, insead drawing out his pistol in one fluid and practiced motion, shooting the man twice in the chest and once in the head, all in a blink of an eye. Then he dove to the side, yanking my tunic to force me into cover. The other two drew out their own rifles and began to open fire. From our cover, the captain and I wordlessly joined the firefight.

The slavers had reacted correctly to the situation. Not these particular mooks, they shouldn’t have even asked us to stop running or to put down our weapons. And they quickly died for it, too exposed and lacking the proper cover against us. But in general, the enemy had reacted as well as they could have.

Instead of sending out their knights, they’d sent out their mooks to locate where we were. Once our location was known, only then would they send the knights to come after us.

The last slaver was shot and killed a moment after his compatriot had bit the bullet, but that was largely enough time for the man to out us over their local comms.

Sagrius grimly continued the sprint forward, but we all knew it was a matter of time until the knights caught up to us now. Nobody can outrun relic armor, even with our head start.

A minute later, that was proved right as a pair of heavy footfalls started sounding behind us. Bullets started flying wildly over our shoulder, along with the unmistakable calls of a relic armor amplifying sound. “Stop running! Give us the kid and we’ll let you live!”

“Need to split.” I told the captain at my side. “They’re after me, they’ll follow and leave you alive.”

“Can’t do that, sir.” The captain said, questioning me for the first time. “We all took an oath. And there’s only two of them, with skill and coordination, my men and I might hold them at bay.”

Putting aside that these were unarmored men suggesting that they could hold off relic knights, which was largely considered a suicide mission, there was a number problem to deal with. “There’ll be more. I know some of the superstructure paths like the back of my hand, you’ll only slow me down, captain. You’ve got your skills, and I’ve got my own. Fall back, regroup with your men. You’ll be able to do a lot more for the clan than dying here.”

I didn’t wait for him to answer, instead tossing Shadowsong's rifle away. With the foes I'd be dealing with, I needed all the weight off of me and both hands free. Turning on my heels, I rushed at one of the Logi catwalks, clambering up like a weasel and mentally prepared myself for the dead sprint that would follow. I knew where the footholds were, everything was standardized so every catwalk had the same places to grab hold over and the same lengths to jump. In seconds, my body moved on muscle memory and I was already slipping into the cracks of the clan colony, rushing through the empty space used for ventilation.

Running parallel to me, I could see the captain, shouting orders to his men in the same breath. He looked both flustered, and upset, but was grimly following my orders at least and not chasing behind me. At the next possible fork, the Winterscar soldiers took a right and split up into the adjacent alley, leaving my sights.

None too soon. Four more knights turned from another alleyway, joining the two chasing ones. They easily reached my point of entry, trying to follow into the superstructure the same way I had. Their numbers clogged up the entry, but relic armors allowed them to ignore any mistake they made, and outright jump past footholds or handholds needed. And if the superstructure was thin enough, they could rip metal apart as if running through a paper screen.

Soon they were all chasing behind, cheating with superhuman leaps to make up for their unfamiliarity. Gauntlets outright bending new handholds wherever needed. Stupid golden era magical bullshit really.

I dove right back out from the superstructure, back into the alley, and down a thin pipe into the catwalk under the walkway. Through the grids, I could see one knight slam hard into the pipe and realize they were too bulky to make it through.

Another grabbed him, shoving him aside and drew out his knife, cutting into the walkway itself to make a path down.

Scrapshit. I was hoping they’d be slower to figure a new way in. I gritted my teeth, and forced my tired legs to run forward faster.

Behind me, the sounds of Occult blades cutting into metal suddenly stopped, replaced by shouting and a fight. I ventured a peek behind and saw the gods damned captain and his two soldiers ambushing the six knights.

Three common soldiers up against six relic knights. This was the sort of fight that was so hilariously lopsided even the knights didn’t quite understand what was going on for a moment. This might be the first time in their lives they saw common warriors charge at them.

The Winterscar guards weren’t fighting to win, that was clear from their movements and coordination. At least the captain was smart on that part. Instead, they were aiming to delay the enemy, striking out and forcing them to react rather than continue the hunt after me.

The knights weren’t stupid either and recognized a delay when they saw it. Whoever was leading them quickly gave orders for two of their knights to stonewall the three Winterscar soldiers, while the other four continued the work uninterrupted.

In moments, four heavy footfalls fell into the same level I was on, barreling down after me.

I turned, diving through machinery and wiggling my way into the cracks, emerging into another catway, in which I began to clamber right back up onto the level above. The chasing knights barreled behind, letting their armors tear through the metal in the way. Leaping over obstacles, and using their knife to handle anything that blocked the path, cursing the whole while.

It was a game of cat and mouse, where I had far more familiarity over where I was going and what was ahead of me. But they had raw power and my own frail body was quickly tiring out. Air was getting harder and harder to breath in, as my exhausted body demanded more than was physically capable of drawing in. Almost managed to give them the slip twice, but those relic armors kept a bead on me somehow, pointing out where I could be hiding, and forcing me to make a break for it.

The third time however, it worked. They raced down a hallway, barreling right past while I hid frozen above, watching them. The moment they were out of sight, I landed right back down and raced backwards, backtracking. Scrambling up another level, trying to keep out of sight. Their footfalls came right back around, and the chase was back on, except this time I’d bought even more space than I had started out with.

I don’t know how long this chase held, but every minute I was getting closer to the estate ground, and building more distance between the knights and myself. Not a huge amount, they could catch up to me in ten seconds flat of a dead sprint on open land - but I made sure they never got that chance.

With one last leap, I landed hard on a larger alleyway, rolling away my extra energy. Ahead were the Winterscar estate gates, the sentries already on high alert from the general alarm. They spotted me at once, and instantly waved for the gate to open.

My legs almost collapsed on me, I held on, grunting and forcing them to lift me back up from my roll. Just a few more meters and I’d be safe. A few more meters.

Behind, I could hear the noise of a few hundred pound armors jumping from strut to strut, closing in on me.

With one last burst of energy, I made a dead sprint into the estate ground, yelling at the soldiers to follow behind and shut the door. Gods be thanked, they did exactly as ordered, sealing the entrance behind them, right after I’d come through. I fumbled and hit the ground hard.

Soldiers were already prepared and gathered around the courtyard, a good three dozen of them. They'd heard the clan alarms and gotten prepared. Equipped with weapons and full gear. Unfortunately, none of that equipment could take on even a single knight, and there were four angry ones behind me.

Ultimately, the winterscar gates weren’t going to hold them off for long. And neither was my small army. I needed to get into Journey to have a chance.

I took a few deep breaths, trying to get some more air into my screaming lungs, trying and failing to get back on my feet. A few pairs of strong hands lifted me right back up and blessedly held me upright.

“Master Keith?” A sergeant asked to the side, the full question obvious to me in the tone of his voice. If the general clan alarms hadn’t already spelled out a grim picture, me running into the estate like I’d been chased by a pack of machines likely did the trick.

“Four enemy knights. Behind me. Armor. Get. Armor.” I tried shouting, but it only came out as a wheeze. “Don’t fight them, can't win. Get to my workshop. Blades, three working. Find, use them.”

Only three extras blades I’d made since I’d distributed the current stock of ten blades. And of that current stock, it was all in the hands of my personal guard - who were currently fighting off the slavers somewhere around the dance hall. I hadn’t yet made it mass knowledge of the new blades, but the soldiers would hopefully figure it out quickly what I meant by blades. They’d find the ones that worked among the ones that were still a work in progress, they had to.

Gods be damned. I spent too much time working on the scrapshit knightbreakers, and worse - I’d sent it all to the clan lord so that his men could practice with them. Should have secured my own House first instead. Did I really expect only run of the mill unarmored mooks to attack my estate ground? Of course they’d hit with knights. If I were the enemy, I would hit the important targets with knights. How the hell they figured I was an important target was going to be a question I'll have to figure out another time.

All out of my hands now, if I lived past today, I’d do better next time. “Those three swords are the only chance you have against them until I can get my armor.” My body finally had enough air to decide talking in full sentences was grudgingly acceptable. “Get them first, don’t engage. Delay only.”

The soldier nodded, instantly turning to his local comms and relaying out orders.

Fortunately the rest were quick on the uptake, especially after hearing knights were coming. Before I was even done talking, the men were already anticipating what to do and a general rush hit the courtyard. The orders from my sergeant here came out only as a professional courtesy.

Heavy bangs right behind me. The estate ground doors groaned, like a few heavy tons of angry metal had slammed into it. Somehow the door had won, refusing to break like some of the thinner parts of the clan superstructure.

Not even a second later, four relic blades stabbed through and began to cut into it like a can opener, clearly furious at the audacity the gate had.

Break time’s over.

I took one last breath and began to sprint again, this time right into my estate ground and through the winding corridors. Behind me, there was a heavy clang of metal hitting ground and shouting followed by sporadic weapons fire.

Heavy footfalls chased at my heels. The knights were inside the estate now, clearly ignoring the soldiers and going directly after me. I raced forward, no longer feeling my legs, my lungs fighting for every bit of air I could shove inside once more. Gods above, at least when I started the sprint through the clan structure I had full stamina. Now, I was running on empty.

I had to get to the vault - worse, I had to shake them off my tail before. It took two minutes to armor up with a team helping. Which meant I had to cut their line of sight, and crawl somewhere they wouldn’t find me. And then sneak into the vault while the soldiers tried to keep the knights distracted. But the footfalls were getting closer.

Needed to break their line of sight and vanish at the same time.

In desperation, I zig zagged down a familiar corridor, taking my chances with the enemy knights this close to me. One of the air vents here connected to a larger sprawling attic. I mustered up whatever energy was left inside my legs, and forced them to leap at the wall, hands reaching out for the ledge.

I flopped into the wall, my numb hands somehow gripping on the lip edge and I pulled myself up, scrabbling into the vent like a rat.

“No, you don’t.”

A hand grabbed my ankle and yanked me back down. Utterly unyielding. Strong enough to move my entire body, ripping my hands off their hold. “I’m not going to let you rat your way out again. Fuckin’ enough.” The voice said, the heavy Othersider accent harsh to the ear.

That pull threw me right out, into the open and slammed me hard on my back. What little bits of air I had was chased out of me. I rolled around, trying to get back on my knee for a running start, only to find myself caught midroll and forced back onto my back.

A heavy armored hand gripped my throat and pinned me down against the ground. The slaver knight loomed over me, helmet hiding all expression. “Gods you’re one slippery pipe weasel. Like chasing a ghost running through the walls.”

My throat was pinned down on the ground, the relic gauntlet nowhere near as massive as the machine that had once held me down the same way, but just as unyielding. I had no armor, no weapons, no occult to call on, and no plan. And even if I had a weapon, what good could it do me against four relic knights in this position?

“Game’s over now, kid.” The slaver said, “We caught you.”

Next chapter - Last stand

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