Trees rustled ahead as the army made quick progress. Augustus made sure he kept a safe distance from the front ranks but close enough to remain visible. He remembered reading about the battle of Hastings in 1066. Confusion set in the Norman ranks when a rumor spread that William was dead. Augustus didn’t have time for confusion. William the Bastard removed his helmet and regrouped his army to seize the day. Augustus wouldn’t make the same mistake. Besides, nobody in his army had a mask.
The hover-bikes to his right returned from their outward sweep, telling him they were close. Croatoan rifles snapped below. Augustus smiled as his army swatted the Unity sentinels away like irritating flies.
Heavy gunfire continued to the west. Augustus raised his radio. “Status update, Zoe.”
“Zoe’s dead,” a man replied. “We’re holding firm and depleting their forces.”
“Keep fighting. Your name will be heralded by our future sons and daughters. Out.”
Augustus couldn’t remember his name, but it was the kind of inspirational quote that drove men forward. Zoe’s death wasn’t a surprise. He felt comfortable in the knowledge that she’d played her part in his master plan. More of her type would soon be flocking to his cause, and he could take his pick.
Two shuttles blasted into the sky above him, entering a holding pattern above Unity. They were ready to use the pulse cannons, or to deliver Maria.
Desperate reports would be reaching Aimee now, if she were still alive. Augustus enjoyed picturing her panic-stricken face. The sinking feeling that her forces were deployed and struggling to hold part of his force, and it wasn’t even the main body. He expected she would commit suicide. Death instead of dishonor.
The setting sun cast a watery glow across a root field ahead. The basin lay just beyond it. Even if Unity’s hover-bikes remained, they would be no match for his cavalry, which powered across the sky in an arrow formation.
Hundreds of his croatoan soldiers broke through the trees and charged across the field. Some paused to fire. They met with little resistance.
Twenty residents leaned over the edge of the basin and fired their antique weapons. They killed several croatoans but were overrun by the sheer weight of numbers and were quickly slaughtered.
Augustus navigated his bike around to the switchback trail that dropped from the eastern end to the foot of the drained lake.
Soldiers climbed and toppled down the five steps cut into the sides. Some threw grenades into the houses and waited for people or aliens to exit, before disappearing inside. Light flashed from some of the dark windows as weapons discharged.
A body of two hundred aliens ran down the trail below him and swarmed toward the city. Augustus peered along the main cobbled road. Tightly packed market stalls and wooden houses surrounded either side, leading to Aimee’s towering stone residence in the distance. Three sections of the rampart glinted, but she wouldn’t have the resources to hold his army at bay.
Hundreds more of the army descended and entered the town. A small group cut away, headed for the initial invasion ship still poking out of its sinkhole.
Flames licked around the roofs of the nearest buildings. People screamed above the rattle of the guns. Augustus’ soldiers dragged humans into the street by their hair. It seemed they didn’t afford the same luxury to the Unity aliens. Augustus didn’t blame them. By all accounts, any who encountered the helmetless citizens also met with death.
Confident everything was going as expected, Augustus navigated his bike forward and drifted over the edge of the buildings.
GUNFIRE GRADUALLY EASED at the far end of the basin. Augustus watched his flanking forces charge the remnants of Unity’s army, who crowded behind two destroyed hover-bikes. Twenty fell during the advance, but the defenders were no match in terms of numbers. By forcing a battle of attrition, there was only one logical conclusion.
“Victory is complete in the west,” a man said over the radio. “What are your instructions?”
Augustus clipped his radio off his breast pocket. “Kill the enemy battlefield casualties. Take any prisoners to the arena. We’ll join up with you after taking the main building.”
The tavern came into view along a muddy street. Augustus remembered having to deal with normal people in there, after being denied a rank that suited him. He hovered five meters above it, slung a rifle off his back and aimed at the door.
A croatoan soldier shouldered it open and threw a silver grenade inside. The explosion blew out the thin glass windows and Augustus’ bike rocked in the air.
Nobody came out of the entrance. The same croatoan threw a second red-colored grenade and flames belched out of the door and windows.
Fire quickly consumed the tavern. Augustus stayed for a minute to watch its wooden beams blacken and crackle.
Every street he observed after gaining height over the city had one of his soldiers shooting, taking prisoners, or burning buildings. An adage spanning back centuries, even before Augustus’ birth, said if you want peace, prepare for war. He found it wise compared to vacuous modern phrases, and followed it. Unity’s army was no match. They wanted peace and prepared for it.
Thick black smoke puffed into the sky from multiple locations, creating a dark gray cloud above the city. It drifted away on the gentle evening breeze, creating a signal to any remote observer that things were changing.
In the distance, lines of scruffy citizens were being harried through the open gates of the arena. Augustus decided to check his ludus to give the army time to clear the town before assaulting the main prize, Aimee’s residence. He thrust higher in the sky to get a bird’s-eye view of the area.
A long line of his soldiers headed up the basin from the west, only around two hundred deployed from the two thousand, which was more than he thought would survive. Twenty unarmed humans and aliens walked thirty meters ahead of them at gunpoint. It was wise not to give them a chance of reform. They’d already taken up arms against him. Augustus couldn’t risk an early rebellion brewing. They would make for good entertainment when he recommenced the gladiatorial games.
The ludus still appeared intact. A croatoan soldier left his former office and peered into each of the cells in the square courtyard outside. He didn’t mind the terrible wooden buildings in the city being burned to the ground, but wanted to keep the better parts of the infrastructure.
A plume of fire shot in the air, followed by a hollow boom. Smoke rose from the front of Aimee’s residence. When it cleared, both front gates were inwardly hanging. Soldiers poured through the gap.
Augustus licked his lips, turned and headed for them. Smoke invaded his nostrils and his eyes watered, but they were minor distractions compared to clinching the moment of victory. He drifted to the muddy ground outside the high stone walls and the bike squelched to a rest.
Soldiers from both ends of the basin met around residence walls. A few broke away to help escort struggling prisoners to the arena. Augustus walked through the gates and glanced around.
Five aliens in hybrid clothing lay on the floor and ramparts. The skeleton crew left behind after most left to join the defense. A croatoan soldier appeared from the dark doorway. “Clear inside, sir.”
Augustus frowned. “She isn’t here?”
“Only staff. We’re taking them to the arena.”
Six people dressed in filthy jeans, robes, and sweaters filed around the reporting croatoan and were led at sword point out of the gates.