Chapter 6

“Weapons have been tested, operating at maximum efficiency. Joint pistons have also been upgraded with a pressure release valve to help them when traversing a swamp. As per the mission parameters.”

“Including Thornrat?” As if in response to her question, the light GearBane pumped its piston joints and cackled as the visors on its angular face focused towards the Battle Mage. “Feisty” Froster commented.

“But useful.” Aster added. She summoned Thornrat from its mooring, the light Gearbane had a spring in its step, a byproduct of the coils that helped the machine sprint and even leap into battle.

“Grenadier Light Gearbanes are indeed ideal vectors of unorthodox tactics.” Froster seemingly nodded at the autogolem. Thornrat wasn’t as modified as Ragehog. The seven foot tall support machine was covered in the sloped or arched metal plating that was common for its category, while its standard grenade staeve was locked firm to its right while a combat shield was attached to its right.

“You added more combat plating to the staeve?” Aster asked.

“Yes Captain, the grenade loaders can be compromised in a wetland battlefield. It is essential that is covered, despite lowered aim speed.” She didn’t like the necessary upgrades, Thornrat was already quick on the draw just by her commands. The changes in the weapon’s weight meant she’d have to guide the GearBane into making precision aiming.

“Can’t be helped.” She muttered. The pair pulled the Gearbanes from the repair bay and walked towards the docks. Autogolems in general needed hand signals or control wands to guide them, but a Battle Mage only needed their will.

“You got GearBane synchonization training?” She asked her Lieutenant.

“Yes Captain. All commissioned officers are required to undergo even the most basic of synchronization training.”

Aster laughed, at this point she found the bookishness of her second in command an amusing trait.

“I mean, did you ever lead one in battle?”

“No mam, I have never lead a GearBane in battle. That task I left to the TechMages.” Froster never broke his tone, it was a combination of clean and intimidating. Though it would take more than a near golemlike tone to intimidate someone like Aster, but she still wasn’t used to it.

“But you’re an experienced mage? That bracer uses arcane focus, Battle Mage equipment. Do a low cast for me will you?”

Froster raised his left arm and powered the device. The rods hovered just slightly above its moorings and locked back into the bracer.

“Can you emit the shield at full capacity while moving?” She asked.

“Yes mam, I can. It is expected of an officer of the DragonWolves.”

“If you can dance an emitter bracer that easily while walking. You can lead a GearBane or two.”

“A voltiir of the DragonWolves does not rely on casting the arcane, but only the application of its energy.”

“First time I’ve heard that.” Aster by now was well aware of how traditional the DragonWolves were, but what exactly those traditions were she did not know. Perhaps much of it had to do with stoic practicality, and the need to strike fast.

She knew the DragonWolves were shock troopers, such train of thought was common among their kind. But an undereliance on mages was new, if not shocking. The trip would give her time to prod.

As the pair neared their ship, the air had began to permeate with the smells of a calm lake mixed with that of the coal of a steamboat. The docks themselves were busy with soldiers or other fortress employees fishing. Though the DragonWolves present seemed to be practicing some form of exercise that required them to plank in a position while waiting for the fish to bite. “Do members of your regiment ever take a break?” She asked.

“We eat and sleep.” Froster replied.

“Figures” she thinks to herself, not wanting to confuse or perhaps anger her new squad. As expected, her voltiirs were ready, standing in position by their assigned steamboat, the Wilhelmina. No crew was present.

“We will be piloting the craft?” Aster asked, looking around for any nearby sailors. “Yes mam, DragonWolves are trained in vehicular navigation and maintenance.” The one who replied was a young Orsim woman, fairly short but well built for her height.

And like the Colonel of their regiment, she bore no facial tattoos or clan markings. Only battle scars.

“Understood, Squad 11. Prepare to depart!” Aster placed her hands behind her back, straightened her posture as she delivered the command. As snappy as the mechanisms of a blast staeve, the Squad initiated preparations to board the steamboat. One even manned a crane for Ragehog, a voltiir ran in front of the bipedal machine and gave the hand signals to have it relax for the crane. Aster was surprised, her platoon would always ask her for help in that matter. But these DragonWolves seemed to have it covered. Thornrat was smaller and had no trouble using the ramp, as the same voltiir signaled it to board. “Soldier, you there.” Aster called. The voltiir stepped aside and stood in attention. “Mam.” He snapped.

“Where did you learn GearBane command signals?” Aster asked. The soldier was a young human male, perhaps only one of eighteen. He was white skinned but his face had turned brown from the sun’s work.

“Mam, all Corporals of the DragonWolves are trained in basic TechMage protocols. Including GearBane maintenance and control.”

“Impressive, as you were.” The voltiir saluted and returned to hooking up Ragehog to the crane, the Gearbane buckled for a moment but Aster waved a spell to calm it down.

Once the autogolems were on board and tied to the storage rooms. The squad all lined up in a parade formation, ready to receive the Captain and the Lieutenant. Aster was, surprised. And somewhat annoyed at the sudden display of formal decorum. These were people not autogolems, but they stuck to the rigid rules of military protocol and their own to the letter. If not for her brother’s experiences assuring her that they were excellent soldiers, she would have dismissed them as pompous idiots.

“Squad 11, I am flattered but that is not necessary. Be at ease. That’s an order.” The voltiirs appeared confused, but in turn did as they were told. Taking defensive positions around the steamboat before the pilot started the engine. Aster headed straight to the pilot’s deck along with Froster. “I can take post, Sergeant Wriixer is well aware of the destination.” The Lieutenant had produced a briefing report and handed it to the Captain, “What’s this?”

“Geographic assessment, possible threats, disease or combatant related.”

Aster flipped through the pages, taking in the data and comparing them with a few mental notes she had prepared for the mission. These were thorough, almost as sharp as her observation.

“There is a heavy account on pathogens and swampborn diseases. Thank you, I didn’t have time to brush up on my marshland biology.”

“It is expected for a second in command to provide the commanding officer with the knowledge necessary for the mission’s success” Likaya expected some measure of condescending dismissal in her Lieutenant’s voice. She was after all a woman and subject to a few biases, but to her relief there was none.

“This part on combatants, interesting. You really think we’ll be facing these bastards?” She caught Froster’s face wincing as she flipped the report towards him, her finger was placed on the symbol that appeared to be a satyr goat man holding two broken branches with its outstretched hands. It was the banner of the Birchmen.