The loading itself is straightforward enough: everything getting shunted onto vehicles (or stuffed into packs) and tied down securely. Even the wind is gentler than when they left: it blows strong, but it doesn’t howl as wildly as it did closer to the Plaza. There’s far, far more bounty here than they can take, but the wrench of leaving a pile behind is mollified by the knowledge that they’re coming away with all they could have asked to gain. When they get this back home everyone is going to eat well for the first time in weeks.
If they get it home…
The wind picks up as they strap everything down and turn around to go. The scouts on their bikes are still watching the area for them, but those guarding the perimeter are waved or called back in, and soon the convoy is heading for their exit.
They’re nearly back on the road through the trees when a boom of engines shakes the air. In the sky ahead, a dark shape swims into view, decloaking as it drops toward the ground. It’s the size of a yacht, long and lean and finned like a shark, with a bulbous head and tapering tail. Then there’s another- and another, and another, and…. They’re dropping into a line, lowering as if to block the road ahead, but then their bellies seem to unfold and many-limbed shapes appear, clinging to the grips and ready to drop…
The moment she hears those engines break into normal space Blaze is running, pounding up from the back of the group, slapping the snowmobile’s cab with a resounding thump in passing. “Move! Now!” She’s bellowing over the wind, on the radios to any who’ll listen. “I’ll break their line! Stay together and run!”
The Fallen are dropping from their ships, spreading into the trees, forming a thick line in front of them. Four-armed vandals with blades and rifles, little floating shanks, the two-armed dregs with their pistols and grenades. One, then two and three of the big captains. She can hear more engines in the sky behind them. More are coming. So many more. The scouts will have to move not to get penned in. Here is the trap, here they are at last. The thrill of it is singing in her circuits.
Blaze does what any Titan would do. She charges. She’s trying not to get too far ahead of the convoy, letting them take whatever opening she can buy- letting her fellow warriors exploit what she’s about to do. She’s closing on the front rank when the air around her clangs. Searing flame erupts over her, the raw fury of the sun blazing to life amid Winter’s shadow. The hammer in her hand burns with molten light, the snow steaming up behind her. Everything in the swathe around her is about to explode or burn- and the rest of the Fallen?
no subject
If they get it home…
The wind picks up as they strap everything down and turn around to go. The scouts on their bikes are still watching the area for them, but those guarding the perimeter are waved or called back in, and soon the convoy is heading for their exit.
They’re nearly back on the road through the trees when a boom of engines shakes the air. In the sky ahead, a dark shape swims into view, decloaking as it drops toward the ground. It’s the size of a yacht, long and lean and finned like a shark, with a bulbous head and tapering tail. Then there’s another- and another, and another, and…. They’re dropping into a line, lowering as if to block the road ahead, but then their bellies seem to unfold and many-limbed shapes appear, clinging to the grips and ready to drop…
The moment she hears those engines break into normal space Blaze is running, pounding up from the back of the group, slapping the snowmobile’s cab with a resounding thump in passing. “Move! Now!” She’s bellowing over the wind, on the radios to any who’ll listen. “I’ll break their line! Stay together and run!”
The Fallen are dropping from their ships, spreading into the trees, forming a thick line in front of them. Four-armed vandals with blades and rifles, little floating shanks, the two-armed dregs with their pistols and grenades. One, then two and three of the big captains. She can hear more engines in the sky behind them. More are coming. So many more. The scouts will have to move not to get penned in. Here is the trap, here they are at last. The thrill of it is singing in her circuits.
Blaze does what any Titan would do. She charges. She’s trying not to get too far ahead of the convoy, letting them take whatever opening she can buy- letting her fellow warriors exploit what she’s about to do. She’s closing on the front rank when the air around her clangs. Searing flame erupts over her, the raw fury of the sun blazing to life amid Winter’s shadow. The hammer in her hand burns with molten light, the snow steaming up behind her. Everything in the swathe around her is about to explode or burn- and the rest of the Fallen?
They have half the damned Nexus to face.