Serial
29: Dog eat dog
December
22nd, 32 S.D. 01:53 Western Frontier, Henron
Three silhouettes darkly moved across the night, slipping through lands far and foreign. Though they shuffled quickly along the winter plains, they’d journeyed for hours already. As they slowed down, coming to a walking pace, they looked at each other for a moment. Though they did not pause, Faima, Tami, and Yega briefly made eye-contact under the moonlight. Nevertheless they went on ahead, withholding their words in silence. A small river sat in front of them, frozen over enough to pass. After warily traversing those waters, the trio hiked only a bit further before coming to rest.
“This should be fine, for the moment,” Tami declared as he put himself down, clearing away the snow.
“I still do not know about this,” Yega said, looking on behind them. Faima took a handful of undisturbed snow and threw it into her mouth. “What are you doing?” Yega asked.
“I am thirsty. Canteens are frozen so...”
“What?” Yega exclaimed as he quickly unscrewed his and checked. “Shrieks, guess so.”
“We need not worry about Losha. She knows what she is doing. We joined her unit because we believe in her. We said we would follow her; we have to stick to her decisions,” Tami spoke.
“Well,” Yega stretched out, lying down on his back. “I would not exactly call what we are doing now ‘following’ her, would you? It is much the opposite, in a manner.”
“Shut it already,” Faima spat. “We are still acting as a team. This is just the role she wants us to play.”
“Sa...”
Losha had taken it upon herself to end the threat those cannons posed. After relaying what she had discovered to them, she planned two major courses of action they needed to execute. The first was to eliminate the artillery. As the operation required minimal alert to the enemy, WOLFWIND could not simply attack the Henron right then and there. Even if Losha were an advanced serialist, she wasn’t an army on her own. That option thus remained equivalent to suicide. The other approach was much more palatable: sabotage.
They were in a perfect position to do so as well. In Losha’s scheme, she would infiltrate the base and set fire to their supply of gunpowder. With the aid of serialization, she could commit this act of arson at a distance and leave no trace of her work; it would look like an accident. Once that was finished, she’d leave instantly, fleeing swiftly with her speed-steps. Though this plot wouldn’t neutralize the cannons themselves, it would set back their deployment in battle, indefinitely with any luck. In the meantime, Sventa could strike.
The three of them had been charged with returning to the third division to inform command of the situation. It would be their duty to ensure the Prime Lead there could take advantage of such timely intel. She would delay her actions to give them a head-start. They were nearly back in Sventa now with Losha still behind in Henron. She had promised to rejoin them once she had destroyed the gunpowder. Despite the power and might she wielded as a serialist, she would still be putting her life at grave risk. Yega frowned as he thought about this. He could only hope things went smoothly on her end.
Meanwhile, back at the Henron base, Losha returned to the lot holding the newly-made cannons. Like before, she used the nearby trees and bushes to obscure her image. Even so, she remained a good many meters from the site itself. Somehow she’d need to sneak even closer to the facility. Though she waited two hours here, giving her comrades time enough to escape into Sventa, she’d carefully researched the layout and structure of her environment. Through that, she’d gained a rough idea of just where she was supposed to locate her objective.
Every 45 minutes, those two soldiers would come walking out of the metal-works building to deposit new shells. The storage unit of these ballistic rounds was probably not too far from the powder itself. Losha didn’t see any reason to investigate the metal-works anymore, so her attention turned to another fairly large building that sat just north of it, a storehouse as she guessed. This place looked to have windows near the bottom of its foundation, perhaps an indication of a basement.
Though she did not sense a great deal of seras frequencies moving about, there were at least three that she identified as sentries to this area. She’d observed them on patrol as they dutifully secured their respective perimeters. One came around the metal-works, another by the storehouse in question, and the last scanned a region that was out of view. Though they didn’t pose much of a threat alone, she would still have to deal with them somehow. Having watched their routines for so long, she saw that there was a point in which none of them occupied the same general vicinity. If she could act in that span of time, she could access one side of the storehouse for about a full minute.
Waiting in the dimness of the night, Losha suddenly took off, running low to the ground as she leaned over. She reached the cannons without incident. The best course, in her mind, remained to hug the very fringe of this lot, to avoid the openness and exposure brought by the great lights trained upon the cannons. With no hesitation, she swung around the huge guns and cut across a stretch leading to the storehouse. Not a single sound came of her movements. Up against the wall of her target, Losha crouched to inspect the windows of the basement. This would prove the optimal entrance, by her judgment at least.
Walking along the edge, she glanced carefully into each pane of glass, peering forth, looking for a latch. None but the central-most window had one. As she had correctly assumed, the little window was locked from the inside. With the due application of a kinetic series, however, the latch soon turned to her will. Losha cast another series, a small force-field around the hinges to prevent any possible squeaking from being heard. Lifting up the window, she slid in slowly along her stomach, feet-first, into the basement. Not knowing what she would step into, she eased herself downward until her hands gripped the edge of the sill, dangling in the air. Losha let go, dropping to the floor a few centimeters below. The window remained up, beyond her reach, but another kinetic series allowed her to close it even though it was well above her head.
The basement stood in utter blackness save for what light streamed in from the surrounding windows. Whirling her hand about, Losha conjured a small glowing orb in front of her. Its brilliance was soft and subdued, so as not to draw any unneeded attention. Controlling this sphere remotely, Losha remained still as she sent it hovering around the room. The low radiance of the series illuminated various parts of the basement as it traveled, revealing shelves of armor, swords, and other pieces of battle dress. What became apparent, however, was that no trace of her objective lied within sight. To be certain, she swept everything thoroughly twice, but as far as Losha could fully tell, the lower level chiefly housed weaponry. She considered that the gunpowder may have been upstairs, though she could only hope this much proved true. If the materials were placed elsewhere, she might have had to go through a great deal more effort, expanding the necessary risks of her mission.
The way upward turned out to be nothing more than a ladder hung against the sorthern wall. Losha sent light over there, floating her orb near the ceiling as she approached. Mounting the first few steps, she saw that a sort of panel blocked the entrance. Upon climbing to that height, she gingerly pressed against the surface, testing if it would budge. To her surprise, the panel weighed an insignificant amount and moved with the barest touch. By cautious degrees, Losha pushed the wood away and to the side. Once she’d finally uncovered the opening, her head popped out just slightly. The orb, ever active, flew free as it bounced to and fro highlighting her immediate setting. Not a single seras frequency emanated from within the storehouse, and nothing out of the ordinary registered in her eyes. Feeling some extent of certainty, Losha raised herself up from the basement’s depths and straightened upright on the first floor. She put the panel back in its place and proceeded with the rest of her task.
As she’d noted beforehand, the main level itself had no windows whatsoever, which was actually very favorable to her. Naturally, she decided to increase the intensity of her orb, knowing that it would not be seen from outside. She threw the little ball high towards the center of the room to act as a large lamp. In this way, the entirety of the storehouse suddenly lit up. She winced but shortly at this rapid change, yet after blinking twice, her eyes adapted.
From left to right, Losha examined all the things in front of her. As her focus sharply remained on finding the powder, in an instant her vision cycled and filtered through numerous objects sitting about. Here she saw the likes of so many spare cannon components, bits of wagons, saddles and other horse-riding equipment, and a plethora of disassembled unknown parts along with an assortment of hand-held tools. Nothing outright struck her as a candidate for what she sought, so she studied everything under a finer, more discerning gaze. Quite a few boxes sat below rows of tables, yet by her estimate, the Henron wouldn’t put such a valuable resource in such a haphazard manner. Wherever they were storing it, it’d be segregated or labeled given its flammable nature.
Losha walked around the storehouse, turning in either direction quickly. After a time she stumbled on what looked to be a series of locked containers stationed against the northern side. Though the rest of the storehouse was fairly crowded, this spot seemingly managed to ward off the clutter. Creeping over to them, Losha saw that they were remarkably large; each was big enough to fill the better portion of any wagon. Each also wore a thick padlock that normally prevented unauthorized access. Thankfully, serialization could easily bypass these measures. A tailored kinetic series shifted all the right mechanisms internally as if she had the proper keys. With these devices disabled, Losha knelt down to open them.
Before she started to rifle through the contents though, she halted herself for a moment. The very tips of her ears all at once tingled up and down. With a fleeting gasp, she craned her neck behind her. Real or imagined, she thought she’d heard something moving outside. It didn’t feel like any of the guards were close enough to make any noise she’d be able to detect. Nothing else was showing up as close-range seras frequencies, however. Despite having maintained a cool and collected approach up until then, perhaps she was beginning to succumb to the underlying stress of the mission. Noting that no further disturbances came thereafter, Losha resumed her work with a deep, silent breath.
Going from right to left, she slowly opened these containers. The first two were duds, holding only chemicals she could not identify. The third, ironically the most spacious, was completely empty. As it happened, the final one actually stored the blast agent she’d been searching for. Unsealing this locker, she found a multitude of small, slim tanks, each with a handle at the top, and on every end a twistable cap was fitted. Though none of the stuff had ignited yet, the smell was overwhelming and unmistakeable. At the back of the container’s lid, bold letters of red detailed the fire threat of the items therein. She wondered why such a message of rather great importance was written on the inside instead of the outside, as it should have been. Did Henron sensibilities really differ so much from her own...?
Nevertheless, she soon closed each locker. Having ascertained the gunpowder’s position, Losha could then leave. All that was left for her to do was sneak back out. From a safe distance, she could cast a kinetic series that generated a vast amount of heat, essentially creating a fire. The trick here, however, would be in projecting the series from a remote range. She had never considered just how far she could send her seras nor how difficult it would be to manipulate forces behind largely solid walls. There remained no choice in the matter though. By whatever means, she’d simply have to find a way to succeed.
Losha stood up, intending to exit through the basement. Yet again she froze as she thought she heard something. The exact source of the sound eluded her, but she positively knew it was no error on her account. It was brief, like a light series of taps across the ground. As soon as it was recognized, it stopped altogether. Something had definitely tripped her alarm. Even so, like earlier she sensed no anomalies as it concerned local seras frequencies. Losha frowned slightly, looking at the walls around her as if she could not trust them. She only moved moments later after nothing more came of her heightened awareness.
Glancing up, Losha realized she was still using the orb she’d serialized a while ago. That series was becoming such a mainstay of her actions that she nearly forgot about it. She reduced its power and size, no more needing to see all of the storehouse. Recalled towards her, the orb dipped away from the ceiling. As she used it to guide her back to the basement, Losha heard an undeniable noise, one that caused her to shudder throughout the length of her body.
A single, heavy pounding attacked the door. The energy behind this sounded as if it meant to smash the wooden frame down. Pivoting around, even in the dimness, Losha saw the door cave slightly inward as yet another body slammed against it. Her mouth moved to exclaim, but only a curt, cursing whisper came forth. She knew that no time remained for panic, therefore she abandoned thought for instinct; she raced towards panel. Even in this state of flight, however, she couldn’t reach it in time.
With a sickening crash, the door exploded open, showering bits of wood below as it collided against the wall. Losha twisted as she ran, catching a glimpse of something low, bright, and fast as it zipped into the storehouse. Before she was even fully aware of it, this thing bolted straight at her with inhuman speed. It launched itself in front of her path, blocked her route out of this place. As it stood before her, she recognized the thing as a large hunting dog, albeit this one was fitted with a strap around its chest. One end of the band held a miniature glass bulb that lit up. She’d heard of these electric lights that were common in Gandian lands, though this one was set inside a small cone, honing the beam. Perched on all fours, the hound tensed up, snarling its fangs as it growled.
Losha stopped where she stood, but in that same moment, she heard the pitter-patter of more paws. She whipped around to see more dogs of the same breed charge into the storehouse. This wild lot was equipped with similar search-lights as well. Five additional canines stormed the building, each quickly flanking her from various angles. Most of them growled and snapped at the empty air, but one barked loudly, incessantly. Losha spun around, going back and forth between these aggressors as they paced about. They were just animals, however; she could deal with them. Her biggest concern was more so about the attention she’d just raised, right in the heart of enemy territory.
The dog that ever barked suddenly lunged at her; its jaw flexed wide anticipating the bite. Her battle prowess as a serialist assumed control of her methods; a mere pup could not withstand the might of a wolf. Swiftly, instantaneously, she worked up another kinetic series, a very thorough one at that. In the same vein as a force-field, Losha summoned a constant barrier of opposing kinetic energy. However, the shape of the field contoured tightly with the dog’s body. For all practical purposes, the dog was paralyzed. In that same frame of time, Losha managed to wrap her series around all six of the dogs. The one that had moved to get her fell to the ground in a stiff heap while the rest could but stand there, vocalizing their menace.
She turned to the basement’s entrance once more, but all at once her senses were inexplicably seized. Facing the door of the storehouse, she saw the glints of two small, darting objects. Though she didn’t know what these things really were, she perceived them as nothing less than dangers. Reacting automatically, she blasted a wide path of kinetic force in front of her. The attack swept away a few of the dogs in the process while somehow managing to deflect one of the oncoming items. A short moment later, two audible thuds echoed, one next to her and the other somewhere near the floor. Scarcely a meter to her left, the end of a long knife sunk into the wall. Another knife deeply lodged itself on top of the basement’s panel at an acute angle, essentially nailing it shut. At the same time this all occurred, she then felt the presence of a close seras frequency. It hadn’t been a lapse in her watch; it was simply as if the frequency had just materialized. Before she could even wonder in confusion at this phenomenon, a voice called out from the doorway.
“Sa! I thought I smelled something... odd. Something out of place.”
At this time, a young man appeared in the door carrying a lantern of his own. He had little hair and bore a slanting hat often donned by Asten hunters. Rather than the metal armaments many soldiers wore, his outfit was wholly leather. Across his hip, he carried a belt of many small, individual slots; each - as far as Losha could tell - holstered a different sort of knife. His eyes were like hers, dark gray, but for a moment they flashed in the lantern’s light. The Henron soldier couldn’t have been any older than herself; perhaps he was even younger. Her eyes narrowed as he entered.
He held the lantern up as he sniffed the air. “Exactly,” he smiled to himself as he took two steps in, then halted. “I knew it was you,” he said, looking down at Losha.
She could little afford to waste time here; quickly she manifested a small bolt of lightning aimed at the soldier. The assault flew fast, straight, and true. Yet even before the strike headed towards the man, his eyes sprang fully open. With incredible deftness, he dashed away a complete second before the electricity harmlessly sailed out the door. Like a swaying ghost, his image seemingly fled to the side a meter away.
“What?” Losha breathed, confounded as she glanced at the spot she’d aimed for and where her opponent now stood.
“Sa, there is no mistake,” he said, placing the lamp on a table. He turned sideways and pointed at Losha with a raised arm. “You are that witch. The Wolf of Sventa!” His words, though no more louder than before, seemed to resound on that last sentence.
Losha’s stance changed; her feet spread out, her knees bents, and her hands readied themselves. This man had dodged her lightning, a feat no one had ever done. There was something very singular about this soldier, something that told her she wouldn’t get away easily, not without a fight. She said nothing; she didn’t have to, but the soldier appeared somewhat talkative himself.
“Quite a display just now. I bet you question why you missed,” he spoke as he paced around. “Well it was not easy, but it boils down to one thing.” He held his hand up near his face; the index finger alone stood erect. “Reaction time.”
In the same instant this was said, his other hand dextrously pulled out three knives, one at a time, yet he threw them so quickly, it were as if they’d all been hurled in the same motion. The sharp projectiles rushed at her, each directed at a different vital region: her throat, heart, and head. Without delay though, she used a surging speed-step to swipe herself to the side, mimicking the short dodge the man had used.
“Ha!” he laughed once and aloud as he started walking back and forth again. “Just what I would expect.” He gestured widely with his arms. “You know, the two of us are quite similar, not just in name, but in reputation, spirit.” He took out two knives; each had a small loop at the handle’s end to make extraction all the more easier. The man spun the short blades around his index finders, twirling them causally, dangerously. He huffed the air again then halted as he stared at Losha.
“I smell no fear from you. Good. We truly are then two canines of a sort.” In an instant, he stopped the blades, catching them by their handles. The soldier cut the space before him as he shifted his posture and weight leaning forward.
“Field Lead Koter Henron, or as I am known throughout the orders, the Velhast Hound. I will be the one to end you life, Wolf.”
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