“I have already lost too many Hatchery siblings today. I will not lose another one.”
Enzo rallied his units around him; he had twelve at full strength and several at partial strengths at his disposal. Most of them would be sacrificed for the greater good as they punched their way to the loading area of the main freight shaft. He deployed his units in almost a wedge formation, as if utilizing old cavalry charge techniques. The point of the wedge would suffer high attrition for sure, but their sacrifice would give the flanks time to react to the enemy. Enzo and his personal guard put themselves just behind that vanguard unit as they charged forward.
The wedge smashed through the first two intersections guarded by the enemy, decimating them. He soon found himself mixed in with his vanguard forces, fighting on the front line, where he was most comfortable. With him leading the way, the Prophus melted against their onslaught. Within the first few minutes, Enzo’s men were already halfway to the supply room. The gigantic freight elevator was in sight. If his forces could hold that area, assuming Jacob had handled the catalyst stockpile room, Enzo’s gambit would have paid off.
“Amanda,” he spoke into the comm, “have you been able to get ahold of Jacob?”
“He controls the room still, Father,” she said. “He has Prophus trapped in there, but is taking care of the situation now.”
Enzo continued to press. By this time, the enemy had formed a defensive barricade at the main intersection just before the freight elevator. He reassessed his options.
You can turn left and make a wide arc, but that is three times the distance to the elevator. If you head down a level, you can reach the cargo room by foot, but then you will still need to take the freight hallways by force in order to move the catalyst reaction rods to the escape pods.
“Then we go forward.”
Enzo ordered his men armed with riot shields to the front and charged, creating a battering ram across the forty meters to the chest-level barricade. He lost a man on his left and one in front, but the momentum carried his team forward. Half of his point unit had fallen by the time they were within five meters of their goal.
Enzo attacked, grabbing a shield from one of the fallen soldiers and stepping on the back of the man in front of him. He leaped over the barricade and crashed into three of the enemy. Instantly, he was back on his feet, swinging the riot shield like a club, taking out swaths of the Prophus.
One of the enemy tried to shoot him point-blank in the chest. Enzo grabbed the barrel with his free hand just as the man opened fire. He spun out of the way and swept the foot of the shooter, bringing the top of his shield down on the man’s head.
Left at your ten!
Another Prophus shot at him, this time nearly hitting Enzo in the face. He barely managed to cover up in time as automatic fire hammered his shield. He tucked his legs and pushed off, ramming into his enemy and knocking him down. Enzo stomped down on her neck. Within the ten seconds it took his men to climb the barricade, he had killed seven Prophus soldiers.
You have lost a step.
“Apologies, my guardian. I blame it on all the years of being a damned bureaucrat.”
“Secure this point,” Enzo commanded. “We will utilize the barricades against them.”
He barked out a succession of orders. The gambit seemed to be paying off. He had sacrificed his secured position on the chess board and was now forcing the enemy to fight in an extended line. He checked his attrition rate. Forty percent less than he had deemed acceptable, no doubt from his decision to single-handedly take the barricade. His men could now reinforce the freight elevator and call workers to move the pallets. Maybe with the tide turning, he could just stay and beat the enemy outright.
You have impressed me once again, but you are overly confident. Do not let this temporary success blind you to our priorities. Retrieving the catalyst stockpile will be a victory at this point.
“Father,” Palos said over the comm. “Scouts believe they’ve sighted the enemy’s forward command post.”
A blip appeared on his map of the facility. The location was just around the corner. Enzo moved over to the edge and peered around to see a mass of Prophus troops guarding a large intersection in one of the main hallways. He recognized a few of the figures: Dylan, a colonel in their forces. Marco, one of their higher-profile agents. Then he saw the woman, Jill Tesser Tan. Enzo’s hands tightened into fists. She was the most wanted of all the Prophus, even more than the Keeper, and the most hated by all Genjix. Even Zoras hissed when he saw her.
This does not change our plans.
“Zoras, it’s the Great Betrayer and the rest of their command. If they fall, their entire operation falls.”
Possibly, but your units have established the support line for Jacob. The catalysts are still more important.
Enzo hesitated. The safe decision was to retreat with as many of the catalysts as they could recover. Quasiform would only be delayed slightly. However, that retreat would be his first defeat and reduce his standing among the Genjix. No, he could snatch this defeat and turn it into a victory with one bold stroke. He was an Adonis Vessel, after all, undefeated, the greatest of all vessels. He would impose his will and strength on the enemy and show them who truly was their better.
A guaranteed partial defeat, or risking everything for complete victory. This is a gamble, vessel.
“I can defeat them and end this in one blow, Zoras.”
You will reap the rewards or consequences, in either case.
He repositioned his men for the attack and communicated his new orders. “Continue the retrieval. You will have less defensive support, but I will draw their attention to something more pressing. Palos, push your perimeter forward and meet me at the Prophus command post. Now!”
He waved his units forward and the wedge attack – riots shields in front – made a right turn directly into the teeth of the enemy’s defense. The initial enemy barrage was deafening. At the same moment, Enzo experienced memories of one of Zoras’s previous hosts, who had led a Forlorn Hope charge into San Sebastián.
The first line of his fighting force dropped before they had moved ten meters in. They were expendable, however. More took their place, locking their shields in as phalanxes of old. Others picked up the shields of the fallen and moved to the front. All they needed to do was get him close enough to wreak the vengeance of the Holy Ones upon these Prophus.
I see at minimum of four vessels. Be wary.
“None can match an Adonis.”
Halfway down the hall, the Prophus line made the foolish decision of charging with its own shields. Two lines of them broke out of the barricade and charged. The sound of the sides colliding was immense. This time, instead of going over the top through the Prophus defenses, Enzo drew his Honjo Masamune. With his sword in his right hand, a pistol in his left, and the shield wrapped over his left forearm, he envisioned the glory days of war, when battles were fought the way they were meant to, through skill and strength of will, when the winner was the man who drew the blood of the most enemies with his own two hands.
The line for both sides bounced backward from the initial impact, giving Enzo just enough room to slip through his units and get to work. He swept low with the sword, cutting through boots and flesh alike, felling several of the enemy. Ducking behind his shield, he felt the impact of the bullets on its surface. A moment later, the line behind him caught up. More of his units charged, hitting the second layer of the Prophus, who were not armed with shields.
Enzo waded in, slashing indiscriminately, a walking god of war slaying both the enemy and those Genjix who were in his way. Collateral damage was always acceptable, as long as the goal justified his actions. And now, Enzo was going for the enemy’s throat. It took him longer than he would have preferred. He had half a dozen bodies to wade through, after all.