"Tinker! Report."
"We're under fire from behind!"
Hammerhand startled and pulled back but the reaction was cautious as he didn’t want to accidentally crush one of his own mechs. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
Tinker didn't reply for a second and focused his energy on lobbing smoke grenades into the area behind them. There was no shield back there and it was enormously frustrating that he couldn't see who was shooting at them from the rear. He had sustained damage from behind, and it wouldn’t be long before something vital was struck.
"Who the hell is shooting at us? Did they set something up in the Gene Bank or something?"
"Fuck! No! The Gene Guard are the ones shooting at us."
Hammerhand could think of nothing to say in response to that. He knew better than to question it since the man wouldn't shout it like that if he wasn't absolutely sure of the facts.
The next question, obviously enough, was why they were shooting. The Gene Bank were soldiers and would not fire accidentally into their own allies. Even a first-year pilot would know to keep their lines of sight clear.
Which left only one alternative. The Gene Guard attack was deliberate.
"Son of a whore." Hammerhand growled with anger-tinged frustration and raised his shield once more. "Tinker! Casualties?"
"We have a large number of disabled mechs. I have light mechs getting the survivors out and into cover and others creating smoke screens."
It seemed like the man was in his element and if anyone could effectively manage that kind of calamity, he could. The Knights’ leader hefted his hammer and drove it into the line of mechs that now tried to circle Windchime and his team. The man still moved like a whirlwind to slice and hack into anything his weapons could connect with. Along with the work of his assault rifles and the others in his team, he inflicted an impressive dent in the City's pilot numbers.
Unfortunately, that wouldn’t last. Any losses the City took at this point would have almost no meaning compared to the damage the Knights had suffered until this point.
Hammerhand brought his shield up and shoved forward. "Windchime, pull the fuck back and bring your team with you. Now, damn it—now!"
The Knight didn't question his orders and the rest of his people withdrew as well. Before they could rejoin the ranks, two Cinders moved out from behind pillars where they had been effectively hidden. Their shotguns flashed and one of the Lancers lost its leg and pitched over. The second took a round through the cockpit with enough force to knock the entire mech forward before it simply fell with the Auburn pilot already dead.
"Shit!" Windchime shouted as Hammerhand lowered the shield to let him and his two remaining men through. The smoke had begun to fill the tunnels, which made any kind of real visibility all but impossible. Despite the visual challenges, a concerted barrage cut through the tunnel to damage his mech and those around him. Of course, the Knights were confined in a limited area so it didn’t require much to deliver an effective assault.
He squinted to focus on Tinker, who stood at the center of the subterranean passage with an assault rifle in an improvised strap on his arm. The man returned fire at the Guard and attempted to hold their ground while the other support mechs drew their comrades away from the fight and into cover behind the pillars.
With his attention on the condition of his troops in the rear, it took a while for him to realize that the air had begun to fill with more than only the smoke from Tinker's canisters. From what he could tell, the ongoing and concentrated exchange of gunfire chipped away at the pillars that supported the tunnel. Before long, they would all be buried inside.
Assuming, of course, that they survived that long.
There was only one way that any of them would get out of this alive. The chances were, if the Guard had betrayed them, the desert warriors would face similar difficulties. Perhaps his decision would help them as well, although he didn't know what they intended to do.
"Hold your fire!" Hammerhand ordered over the comms and made sure his voice carried through the speakers on his mech. In case it was unclear as to who he had addressed, he dropped his shield, let the hammer fall from his hand, and raised a white flag from the mech.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Tinker snapped and spun to face him.
"Hold your fire and drop your weapons. That's a fucking order!" he commanded the man with as much authority as he could muster.
"I won’t give up, laddie, so you'd better pick that fucking hammer up again."
"I'm not telling you again—"
"Good, so I won't have to smack some sense into your brains again."
"Tinker, I won't let any more die on this hill of mine. Understood?"
It had been difficult to make the decision and Hammerhand couldn't ignore the irony. He now commanded that they stop fighting, and Tinker insisted that they continue.
The other Knights and rebels had already ceased their efforts and put their weapons down.
Their enemies, thankfully, had chosen to hold their fire and appeared to be willing to accept their surrender.
"Fucking…hell." Tinker hissed in disgust, yanked the strap off the assault rifle on his arm, and let it clatter on the stone floor.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Surrender was a bitter pill to swallow. It was also one that Hammerhand had once sworn he would never take because he preferred death over kneeling before an enemy.
There had been a mention of an old poem at the time. He couldn't remember the exact line or the name of the poet
