Sgt. Golem: Royal Mech Hussar - Books 2 & 3

As the Russian airship Vengeance of Alexander unloaded its complement in the valley behind us, I left the howitzer crew and high-tailed it down the slope. I needed to get to that gunship. If the Widow had been true to her word and assigned some crewmen to help me out, then I wanted to make use of it before some of these newly arrived people commandeered it.

I got there just in time. Two groups of Russians were squared off in front of the machine. A handful, looking confused and put-upon, stood in front of the gunship. A young Russian officer with a squad in neat uniforms was yelling orders. The ranking non-com of the first group was trying to explain what the Widow had told them to do.

As I barreled up, I remembered something I had heard once: something about a sergeant in motion outranking any officers in the area. One of the newly arrived Russians looked up just as I approached.

"It's a golem!" he yelled, but I brushed right past, shutting him down.

"Attention!" I loved how this body’s voice cracked like a whip, and it was damn fun to abuse. Both groups snapped to attention. The officer turned and stared at me, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"Everyone aboard! We're taking off immediately! Find your stations!" I didn't wait for acknowledgment but immediately boarded the airship. Behind me, I heard the officer spluttering and the tramp of boots on steel as the men boarded behind me.

I went straight to the cockpit and settled into the pilot seat. A moment later, two of the Russians from Natasha's group came in.

"The major said you needed help piloting."

"That's right," I said. "One of you get on the flight engineer station," I jerked a thumb at it. "And the other, come be my co-pilot. We can expect a lot of noise interference in here in a minute, but you just do your job and everything will be fine."

"Oh, Vladimir! What does he mean?" That was probably supposed to be a whisper, but golem ears are awesome.

"He means ignore that stupid officer that just showed up," the second man said in a similarly low voice. He shut up just in time. It seems like when boots are extra shiny, they make an extra-loud stamp on metal. The young officer bulled into the chamber. His face was red as he worked up a head of steam.

"Who are you? Get out of that seat! What are you—"

I flipped the switches to prime the desh core. “Get the engines hot,” I told the flight engineer. I glanced back to make sure he was busying himself at the console, and he was. The officer broke off momentarily, looking back and forth between us, before rounding on me again.

"I said—"

My implanted memories came rushing back, and every control was familiar. Whatever model machine this was, Frankenstein had clearly bought it off the open market and left its interior unmodified.

"I said—"

I hit the button for the electric intercom. "All hands, prepare to lift."

And without waiting, I slammed the luff engine lever home.

The machine shot into the air. The force slammed me back into the seat as the machine shot into the air. The lieutenant went sprawling across the deck, cutting off his tirade. Our propulsion engines roared to life, and a moment later, the trim engine as well. It was a clunky, inefficient design, but that's what you could build when you used magic to cheat.

"Engines are good, propulsion is available," the flight engineer called.

"Roger." I eased the throttle forward, and we were off. I banked us away from the pair of airships hulking nearby and set a course to cross the ridge.

The lieutenant was still trying to stand up as we crested the ridge. I pitched us over hard, diving for the valley floor. The officer squawked as he bounced off the ceiling and landed in a heap. The other two Russians held on for dear life as we descended into hell.

The zeppelins still burned, sending up huge plumes of black smoke that blotted out the sky. For a moment, we were headed straight towards one of the burning wrecks. Flame and darkness filled our viewscreen as I shoved hard over, banking to the right and pulling up between the two burning wrecks. Russian mechs and surviving crewmen scurried for cover. I knew those lightning guns took time to energize and target, so I was going to keep us moving fast and make us hard to hit. I just hoped the crewmen in the back knew how to work the guns.

The gunship buffeted as our speed got too high, sending a vibration through the trim rotors. I pulled up, and the shimmy stopped as we leveled off. A hundred feet above the valley floor, we passed wreckages of lightning antennas, and transformer batteries. Natasha's mechs were down below, working their way across the valley in a loose skirmish line.

One of the rider girls lifted a hand to wave as we passed overhead.

The column of armored vehicles was halfway across the valley now. The other surviving Russian gunships still circled it, taking the occasional potshot but staying high enough to make return anti-aircraft fire ineffective. They seemed wary of getting close to those lightning guns. Smart of them.

The coil on the tank still stuck up through the armored hatch, ready to send sparkling death at anyone that ventured too near. I wondered how close we would have to be to the ground before they would be as likely to hit their own column of vehicles as us.

Ah, fuck it. You only live twice. I pushed the throttles all the way forward.

"What are you doing?" the lieutenant shouted from the back of the cockpit. "Rise up! You're too low!"

"If you don't want to die," I yelled back, "you better tell the gunners on the left side to be ready."

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" The officer mumbled the curses like a litany of prayer.

I glanced at my co-pilot, who just shrugged. His face was white while his hands gripped the console near the stick as if he didn't dare touch the controls for fear he would crash us. I grinned and pushed our nose forward.

I wasn't sure how thorough a gunship pilot's training was, or how common these things were, but my mind was supplying all sorts of interesting tricks that could be done with the ungainly machine.

The propulsion engines roared, pushing us further towards the ground. With them aimed downward, less of the thrust was forward, but the trim motors on top added their own component, and so did the desh engine itself. I increased its power to counter the downward force of the propulsion engines, keeping at roughly the same altitude but flew in a pitched-over orientation. Since our desh engine was primed, all I would have to do was pull back on the stick and we would shoot up.

I eased our altitude down until we were only 20 feet above the ground. Outside the cockpit window rocks and grass flashed by alarmingly close. We roared past the first trucks of the convoy, as well as several armored cars that wildly slewed their turrets to try to bring them to bear on us. Our guns clattered to life, wildly taking shots. Golem infantry scurried around below, taking potshots at us. As we flew past, a stray round thudded off the side of the cockpit, and another cracked the glass window.

In front of me, a small lightning tank was coming up. I triggered the intercom. "Aim for the big one!" was all I had time to shout before we were upon it.

The lightning gun glowed.

Boom! A bolt of lightning shot out just as I banked us to the right and pulled up. The thrust of the motors no longer fought the luff engine's lift. We shot into the air like a cork popping out of a champagne bottle. The ground below us lit up. I rushed past, I couldn't see where the lightning bolt had struck.

As quick as the fixed emplacements were, I suspected it would take the tank longer to recharge. The bigger lightning guns were wired into power lines. How many shots could that tank even take? It looked like it had been built from a hauler, with the lightning generator bolted on and everything non-essential stripped out and replaced with heavy armor.

The desh-powered luff engine didn't care which was way up; it simply resisted the pull of gravity, or reversed it. It couldn't be used to propel a craft forward, no matter which way you turned or pitched. So to arrest our lift, I either needed to apply propulsion engines aimed downward, or reduce lift.

To arrest our wild climb, I pitched forward and yanked back on the luff engine's power. We plunged toward the earth. Directly below I could see a long burn mark where the lightning had scarred the valley floor.

The lightning tank filled my view screen. I slewed the gunship to get the port side guns a view of the target. I really should have made sure those were manned before we lifted off, but I had wanted to get a jump on that Russian officer, who was now huddled weeping in a corner of the cockpit, and keep him off balance. I didn't need him interfering with my plans.

Not that I really had any plans; I was kind of winging it. Whump, whump, whump. Gunfire sounded from farther back in my craft, and I saw rounds striking the ground near the tank below. I held our angled corkscrew maneuver for another second before I was forced to break off.

I got the craft up and trimmed level, angling away from the convoy at low altitude. Golem fire whizzed around us. It didn't pay to stay level for long around here. I swung us up and around, angling for another pass.

"Are our starboard guns manned?" I yelled to my co-pilot.

"I don't know!"

"Find out!" The man grabbed for the intercom microphone and missed as I threw us into another evasive maneuver.

As I came back around, the convoy stretched out before us. Suddenly the lightning tank exploded. Flames jetted from the open hatch, consuming the metal antenna, which melted under the onslaught. The shadow of another gunship passed over us, and I looked up to see the Russian craft had come to join the fight. Apparently, my little stunt had given them a bit more backbone. The second one came down the column of trucks from behind, guns blazing. Vehicles exploded, golem bodies went flying in all directions.

We made two more passes on the column. All the vehicles were gutted and burning.

A human unit would have broken and run by now, but the golems stood and fired back at us until all were cut down.

I followed the lead of the other gunships, making one last sedate strafing pass down the burning convoy as we turned towards the fortress. I knew from the briefing their orders were to suppress defenses, and that meant closing with the massive slab of concrete and guns.

I suspected Frankenstein had more tricks up his sleeve, so while I joined the others in formation, I trailed behind and to the right by several hundred meters.

The Russian lieutenant in my cockpit had gotten himself strapped into the jump seat and had gained confidence now that we were following along with other Russian forces. He kept up a steady stream of orders.

"Turn left! Close up formation! Take us up higher! Circle the fortress!" I ignored all of them.

Fortunately, he also started issuing orders through the intercom to make sure the guns were manned and designate targets.

I was pretty sure we didn't have enough men to man all the weapons that poked out of the gunship from various turrets and firing ports. The lieutenant did not want to listen to me, but after several calm repetitions, I was able to get across the concept that when we circled the castle, we would only be facing it with one side. He finally understood the concept and issued orders for the men to focus on manning the port side guns.

Of course, I didn’t point out that we might face threats from the other side, but it helped to know which side held our best firepower.

The gunships started a wide counterclockwise circle around the castle. The other craft seemed admirably cautious, having seen the power of the lightning guns.

Other conventional cannons were sending up a barrage at us, but the gunners of our three craft fired back.

I trailed the others and resisted the urge to take evasive action. It was a gamble, but it paid off. The defenses on the fortress slackened their fire as the concentrated fire of our three gunships took its toll.

The anti-aircraft fire from the golems had been surprisingly inaccurate. Apparently, Frankenstein was content to trust in the impressive skills that he loaded in his creations and had not deemed it necessary to give them practice. As I knew, artificially loaded skills were all well and good, but against a moving target, it took time to integrate those skills into useful actions.

Now the Russian gunships grew bolder and tightened their circular pattern. In two more orbits of the fortress, the anti-aircraft fire was reduced considerably. After one more it was almost completely gone. Gun emplacements on the battlements were smashed or sitting idle, bodies scattered all around. Some golems still scurried around the battlements, taking shots at us with small arms, but at 200 meters against a moving target, their fire was ineffective.

I kept a sharp eye on the battlements for anything that looked like a lightning cannon, and my diligence paid off. In several places around the upper battlements, hatches and doors sprung open and the familiar metal coils slid out. I slammed home the throttle and swung us away as fast as I could. The gunship in front of us reacted with admirable speed, accelerating and increasing his lift. He couldn’t get out of range quickly enough. Blinding bolts of lightning shot out of the fortress from three different locations, tearing into the Russian craft. The port engine exploded. The forward trim rotor broke off and whirled away. The lightning bolt played along the side of the craft, as feelers of electricity actually broke away from the far side, snaking out into the air beyond like writhing tentacles.

Smoke poured from the abused port side of the craft, and it pitched forward. The desh-powered Luff engine must have faltered because it staggered in the air and then started to drop rapidly. The damage to its port side included the small wings, and the asymmetric lift rolled the craft over. Pouring smoke, it spiraled to the earth below. I didn’t see it hit because I was busy turning us away.

I flew us back from the fortress, farther than our first orbit had been. I swung back to port to start another looping turn. I matched the range I had seen from the bolts of electricity in attacks from the other permanent lightning gun installations.

The other gunship was still in the air. It was smoking, and one of its propulsion engines was disabled. It hadn't been able to put as much distance between itself and the fortress. Now another bolt of lightning shot out. This one dissipated almost completely before it reached the wounded gunship. Tiny, delicate fingers of electricity played over the Russian craft. Even as they connected, the lightning faded, much faster than on their first attack.

The power station that the Polish Hussars had been tasked with destroying was a burning inferno at the bottom of a column of smoke. Did that mean we were safe from further lightning attacks? Did I dare risk it?

The Russian attack had included two smaller flying machines, also powered by Luff engines. Now they reappeared, swooping in low on the castle's battlements, well inside of the lightning guns’ range, but no bolts struck them.

It was now or never. There was a small chance the guns still had some reserve power and were charging up their coils for another attack. If I was going to risk moving closer, now was the time.

"What are you doing?" the Russian lieutenant cried, voice full of fear, as I swung us towards the castle and gunned the engines. "Stop! Stop! Turn away!" he yelled.

We were already much closer than the doomed gunship had been when the lightning destroyed it. We swept in low over the battlements, and I aimed for one of the widest open patches, along the first tier of the layer cake of the castle, where the concrete roof of the structure was wide enough for a gunship to touch down.

I throttled back the conventional engines and eased us down on Luff engine power. Our guns chattered as the Russians cleared the few remaining golems from the battlements, cutting them down with a burst of heavy machine gun fire. I jumped up from my seat.

"Where do you think you're going?" the lieutenant yelled again. He was really getting quite annoying. I leaned past the flight engineer and hit the switches that would shut down the desh engine.

"Let's go!" I called to the others as I left the cockpit. "Time to take the fight to Frankenstein."