GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
"Amos, my Chief and my Mate, my secret is that I love you with all my heart. I will fight against these Colonists to protect you, our family, the Creek, and all Bandits."
Very cute. Nice to see them rekindle the romance in their relationship.
Thank you. My apologies, I decided to put in a plug for us old folks.
GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
He did not mind being strict with her, but it was not his nature to want to hurt her.
You know, this point has been brought up a few times before; part of the 'rituals' for lack of a better term surrounding submission in this culture involve the male showing he is willing to punish the wife. Of course, if it really is about correction/punishment, then it seems foolish to mix business with pleasure, as it were. In my opinion at least, such a thing does not work well; it can end up being quite confusing, and can even incentivize misbehavior in a roundabout way if the punishment is enjoyable. As the (to be fair, joking and I am using it in an entirely different context) quote goes, "Do not threaten me with a good time." Also, we never really see an example of this happening in practice, mostly just the 'threat' of it.
You are right, of course. Not to beat a dead horse, this is fiction and does not emulate real life in any way.
GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
“Since this was the hard one,” Hunter said, “what else do you have to prove? I would say that you have completed your quest and can hold your head high.”
The voice of reason perhaps? Almost surprised that she agrees with him, seeing as the whole thing seemed like a bit of an excuse to 'force' him to provide more bondage.
Possibly she would not have agreed if we were not approaching the end of this story.
BlissfulMisery wrote: ↑1 year ago
The conversation between Magnus and Admiral is enlightening. Perhaps a little too mustache twirly, but it certainly gets the intended point across.
GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
I suggest one mortar to a wagon with twenty-five shells each. Train your mortar crews and have them march close to their wagon so the mortars can be deployed rapidly.
Interesting that they are using larger mortars. Would have expected smaller hand ones. Not sure how they plan to engage at long ranges without what seems like any plan for advance scouting, but perhaps they are (foolishly, but unsurprisingly as the thought of the bots working against them does not cross their mind) relying on satellite uplinks for that sort of information.
GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
That will do against spears and blunt knives.
Illustrates quite succinctly how little regard they have for the Bandits.
GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
The bots had decided that the Bandits held the moral high ground in this conflict. They would not get physically involved. They would not directly harm Colonists. They would provide intelligence and advice to Unihold, the Archers, and the Bandits.
Ah, it seems with sentience, the bots have also gained the human capacity for very convoluted moralizing. One might argue there is little difference between directly or indirectly causing harm in this way, for regardless, it will likely result in deaths. Still, good to see them in the story, and also good to see an explanation for the excessive overconfidence of the Colonists.
Perhaps we should have spent more time telling the Colony's story. But, I think that it is clear that Magnus, the progenitor of the scurrilous Summer Johansson, is himself scurrilous.
Yes, the bots show again that they can be as conflicted as people.
BlissfulMisery wrote: ↑1 year ago
Very cute/affectionate how Angus often ties Angela up for the night. A very tender way of showing his love. Also quite amusing how she practically manipulates him into taking a bet she is confident she can win. Wonder if anything will come of it.
I have to admit that Angus and Angela have become favorites of mine. I didn't plan it that way, it just happened. Will anything come of their bet? Maybe it is fortunate that there is not a law saying a story must answer all questions before it ends.
GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
It is a problem to realize a problem only when you can do little to fix it. Well, there is the safe signal.
To be fair at that point she was still not gagged. And proceeded to ask to be. Hence my saying 'part'. Either way, I mostly pointed it out because it was somewhat funny. It can often end up like that with hindsight/an outside perspective with these sorts of things.
GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
Thank you. My apologies, I decided to put in a plug for us old folks.
No need to apologize! Like I said, it was very cute, and I did not mean that in a negative way, although reading it back I can see how it might have read that way.
GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
You are right, of course. Not to beat a dead horse, this is fiction and does not emulate real life in any way.
Well, 'in any way' is somewhat an exaggeration (without at least some grounding, it would be hard to relate to the story being told), but I understand the intended sentiment. Hard to avoid thinking about such implications however. Perhaps I should not voice them.
GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
Possibly she would not have agreed if we were not approaching the end of this story.
Ah yes, the old problem of 'pacing'. Definitely ties back into the previous point about fiction versus life .
GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
Maybe it is fortunate that there is not a law saying a story must answer all questions before it ends.
Well, (and this applies to all of this), these are just the thoughts that come up for me while reading. I am most definitely aware of the limitations of writing, for one can go on endless tangents if they are not careful...
GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
I suggest one mortar to a wagon with twenty-five shells each. Train your mortar crews and have them march close to their wagon so the mortars can be deployed rapidly.
Interesting that they are using larger mortars. Would have expected smaller hand ones. Not sure how they plan to engage at long ranges without what seems like any plan for advance scouting, but perhaps they are (foolishly, but unsurprisingly as the thought of the bots working against them does not cross their mind) relying on satellite uplinks for that sort of information.
...
just some add on: it is meant for transportation purposes. A mortrar caliber between 80 - 90 mm might weigh easily up to 150 kg. It could be carried, but it would be exhausting and slowing on the march on food, even if split into 3-4 parts. Not to mention ammo. The crews would be able to shift position relatively easily...
Nainur wrote: ↑1 year ago
just some add on: it is meant for transportation purposes. A mortrar caliber between 80 - 90 mm might weigh easily up to 150 kg. It could be carried, but it would be exhausting and slowing on the march on food, even if split into 3-4 parts. Not to mention ammo. The crews would be able to shift position relatively easily...
Fair enough. Honestly the whole thing is just my usual going on tangents that even I would admit do not *really* matter within the scope of the story being told.
GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
I don't think what you wrote was negative at all. Keep trucking along.
You have posted comments on one of my stories. That is appreciated very much. Please tell me what you think about the Tale of an Archer. If you would like your tag added or removed from this list, send me a PM or a post with that request.
SPOILER-alert: apologies, but no TUGs. Just story-telling.
-----
Chapter 37 – The Battle for the Creek Village
By @GreyLord and @Nainur
About thirty-six hours after Comanche warriors led by their chief had arrived at Creek Village, the Bucks entered the place. All were bold and strapping warriors. They were a sight to behold, but Sheilah's eyes rested only on Hunter, who had ridden out to welcome his tribe fellows and his chief. They would, as the Comanche, make camp in smaller groups around the valley. Both contingents had brought much food, but they would, after a time, depend much on the food the Creek could provide. The timing was crucial. Luckily, this was not as challenging as it would have been in a different case. Therefore, the Headmaster could return to Unihold even earlier and could honestly testify to having not seen other tribes than the Creeks there if questioned.
Why was this possible?
The campaign was not a secret at all. But that was not only because of the spying by the bots. The massive intelligence they gathered and delivered undeniably supported the Bandit Confederation's cause. Still, perhaps it was more important what information the bots denied: Johansson thought he would fight with almost even numbers, for he underestimated the number of the Creek. He certainly underestimated the number and strength of the Archer crossbow. And he had no idea at all that a force matching the size of his own would reinforce the Creek.
Moreover, both of the existing Colony's media, The Newhome News Channel NNC and The Herald of the New Home HNH, had reported the matter freely amongst the Colonists. The latter, very much inclined to sympathize with the "Earth Rules"-cause, even provided lists of the volunteers and reports of their equipment, schedule, and the expedition's size – 308 Colonists on the day they actually marched out - was anything but a secret. Even Jordan got one or two random round mails advertising participation and contacts. Any person of half-decent military experience could have given a lesson or two about operational security, but there was none. And – hey! – they were only primitives who would scatter after a few salvos. Magnus Johansson, appointed general-in-the-field, told his wife confidently that the main issue was to take as many prisoners as possible to teach them 'obeisance and hard-working' and young women to provide good sport. Too many Colonists were unattached and had hoped for more women to follow from Earth onboard ships that never arrived. Magnus Johansson looked fondly at his pregnant wife when they said goodbye. His unborn son would be a hero's son, and a bright future would be before him.
Most people just did not care if some Bandits would be killed or not. They did not even care if some of their neighbors would die trying to kill Bandits. It had to be said that some sober minds, even outside Unihold, wondered how so-called 'lazy farmers' could be fearsome warriors at the same time. And how could these people also provide a severe threat to the Colony if they were lazy? At the same time, even more pointed out that cultural history never knew such a thing as 'lazy farmers.' Lazy farmers would certainly starve after a few winter seasons. Farming without bots was a tough job, as the Colony was about to find out. But all these excellent arguments were brushed aside, as were those messages that vainly tried to promote moral decency and patience. In a bar fight, one Colonist was beaten up after he had pointed out that the unit's strength would be close to the size of a foray led by a certain George Armstrong Custer to the Little Big Horn back on Earth.
Nay, the radical faction would have none of such defeatism.
Joe Houston, as "Commander-in-Chief," would stay behind to keep an eye on things.
Two heavy laser cannons were a bitch to drive by oxen, weighing well over a metric tonne each. They could only fire a few times because of the tremendous amount of energy needed, but they would break up any resistance and bring ruin to any defenses, or huts, in their sight. They were called siege guns which was a joke, for there would be no 'siege.' To carry them along had been one of the few disputes, for they were cumbersome. Eight lighter cannons would form the 'field artillery.' They weighed nigh on one hundred kilograms. Two horses could pull them without much effort, and they could be prepared to fire quickly once connected with their power units on a second carriage of double the weight. This component was split into two branches of four pieces each. The bulk of the force consisted of infantry, organized into four companies. The infantry was only partly equipped with laser guns, which provided a dangerous threat despite their slow rate of fire. Many Colonists carried hunting rifles or shotguns. But fifty colonists had to rely on the small crossbows Johansson had ordered constructed. Less than a third of the three hundred and eight were mounted, but their equestrienne mastery was mixed at best.
On the other side, the Bandits had used the remaining time well. They knew they were superior in numbers. There was even time for the Comanche and Bucks to watch both crossbow-equipped centuries in a field practice at the shooting range. They had learned to avoid the line of fire of those crossbows as they should avoid presenting themselves to those laser cannons. Both weapons carried far as would other weapons employed by the attackers. They would charge quickly, strike fast and hard, and withdraw like lightning.
These exercises had been impressive, but Jordan was still worried, as it was his nature, while Maddie had been furious over the imperfect organization, as was her nature. She had to be told to stop fuzzing, for it was starting to take a toll on the century's morale. The chiefs told their warriors they were ready, and the Spirits would be with them, and Maddie was finally convinced that she could not discern otherwise. But Jordan knew some hunting rifles would be in competent hands.
The Bandits thought they would beat the Colonists, and still, they knew it would cost lives and limbs amongst them. They were confident but mainly in a sombre mood attending services to the Spirits, which meant much ritualistic dancing and singing to them. Those who would meet the Spirits and swell their ranks the next day would find their path well prepared, for that was what their traditions and tales had told them. The last night before the battle, the camps and the huts were silent very early. Men and women said goodbye to each other.
Hunter spent that night with his fellow braves in one of the Bucks camps while Sheilah slept at home. She could hardly sleep that night. She worried more about Hunter than herself, and Hunter did vice versa. But they were in love, and surely the Spirits would protect them. Some would die, but not them. It was simply impossible.
Angela and Angus loved each other that night. Angus would stay somewhat behind the fighting zone to provide medical aid for anybody brought to him. Still, Angela would be with Amanda's century as an embedded medic. She would use her crossbow like any century member as long as she was not needed as a medic. She had never killed or wounded anyone before. But Angela would do what was deemed necessary. She thought how cruel it would be that something should happen to her now that she had found love. Surely the Spirits weren't cruel. It was simply impossible.
Maddie felt awkward, and Jordan felt similarly. That night they listened to some music but hardly spoke at all. They would wear dark green cargo pants and bulky vests of the same colour. Maddie had taken care that especially Jordan's was decorated with Creek tribals. It looked very warrior like, and she would also paint her face. But Jordan was not a military man. Nor had he ever expected to become one. And Maddie had never killed before despite her daydreams of being a bold warrior princess. She had never been shot at, either. Last year she had nothing to lose, and daydreaming had been a cheap escape from reality. But the reality was about to come home now, and she had everything to lose! It was worrisome. And Maddie felt awkward for another reason. She was unsure, but it was possible that the potion she had taken, like many other girls and women, had not had the desired effect. Maddie thought she might be pregnant already. But it was just a possibility, and she had not told Jordan. He was worried enough. But, indeed, they had found love, and certainly, it would have been too cruel if Providence or the Spirits would tear them apart again. It was simply impossible.
Very early, well before dawn, the Bandits assembled. Scouting parties were the first to move out. The bulk of the Creeks, the Bucks, and the Comanche followed them mounted or on foot. Medico Angus McTavrish followed with a strong group of helpers. Finally, the women who would not fight and the old Creek took the youngsters and the children. This sad column headed in the opposite direction. Should some Colonists find a way to the village, they would see no one. Thus, the past and the future of the tribe would survive: to tell the tales of old the former, and to listen and to carry on the latter.
An hour later, the Expeditionary Force, as "General" Johansson called his undersized battalion, set out for their last stage. They would follow roughly what they called the "Creek River" and thought the name very funny. The Creek called it "Gently-flowing-water-gifted-by-Water-Spirits-sending-life-all-year" in their tongue. The water flowed around hills in sweeping curves. The Colonists knew that the Creek village was situated near such a curve. The Creek called it The Big Bend. Between that and the final camp of Johansson's troops was another slightly smaller turn of the water. That was Little Big Bend. The Battle would take place there.
Well before noon, both centuries laid in cover near a treeline. Their front was towards the river, and the marching column of the enemy would be between them and the river. Maddie was with Amanda, the Warband chief of the first century, while Jordan was with Ulysses Salmon, a very experienced Creek in charge of the 2nd century left of 1st century. The other Bandits were distributed in the woods in a wide, half-moon. Some hid close to the river. The first news from the scouts brought news of the approaching expedition. They were coming.
There was much nervosity amongst the centuries and not only amongst them. All Bandits were anxious and highly motivated to defend their homes and beliefs. There was hardly a better motivation on the two planets. But even the most experienced warriors had never participated in a fight with such numbers. If there was a conflict amongst the Bandits, skirmishes between a few dozen warriors or even a duel between two champions would settle the issue. That day about eight hundred Bandits would meet three hundred and eight Colonists. Awesome! And the Colonists were coming. It was simply impossible to imagine, but it would happen. Many souls would be torn from their bodies.
Many in the centuries were young. The Creek had indeed trusted many crossbows not to the hands of experienced warriors but had followed the counsel of Unihold and the Archers to enlarge their numbers by using warriors and women that were not fully trained. They had trained hard to master a crossbow and to defend their homes. But there was a flaw in that scheme. They did not know this yet.
Now they were restless. And worried.
Maddie looked around and finally whispered into Angela's ears a while before Angela cried, "Gather around, guys!" Maddie called, "We need a runner. Listen carefully!"
When the 1st century had gathered, Angela spoke loud and clear. She told them they had practiced very well and would perform just like that. They had powerful weapons. "They are coming. We will stick to the plan. Nobody may rush forward without command. Keep with your mates. Keep in the ranks and listen to your commanders. Listen to me. We will loose volleys at first and split into sections soon. You know the drill! But listen to your leaders!"
She looked at Maddie, who shouted: "Divisions in line formation, double close ranks! Span the crossbows, do not load! Do not load! Move!"
Then Maddie looked at a young girl anxiously waiting. She was one of the runners and was lithe and fleet of foot. "Lizzy, please tell Chief Salmon what we are doing. Oh, Lizzy, be so nice as to speak English so that Jordan will not be puzzled!"
There was some laughter, even though it was a feeble joke. Maddie did not even smile but sneaked forward to a low crest line about one hundred and fifty paces forward. In her memory, she recalled William Shakespeare's drama Henry V. '... we lucky few ...' Well. They weren't just a few, but maybe they weren't lucky either. But they would win the day. Anything else was simply impossible.
-
Behind that low crest, the wood opened up, a few hundred square meters large. It was not open ground, but the trees and bushes were less dense. From Maddie's vantage point, she could see a bit of the river. The river limited the battlefield on the other side, well over three hundred and fifty meters away. The mounted Colonists approached from her right, forming the head of the column. Only a few rode ahead as lookouts or at the flanks as scouts. Two riders passed her no more than thirty paces away, unaware of her presence or the two hundred Bandits in the wood.
Farther away, she saw the enemy's infantry approaching, still marching, not really in files or proper rows, but in small groups as they fancied. Following the first two companies, a battery of four so-called field artillery marched. After those two heavy pieces, there was already a gap. Then there was the cumbersome transports and the third company of infantry. It seemed to her that the more eager fighters were in the vanguard and the first formations, and the rear elements consisted partly of people starting to get tired already. Indeed, there was another gap, and the last company was trailing behind, with the remaining four light laser cannons marching with them. The accompanying medical team provided by Unihold followed further back, well-marked by red cross flags, only just leaving the denser parts of the woods. The Headmaster had counselled the Chief Doctor, Louis DeLille, to keep out of the thick of the action and, for heaven's sake, to take care not to be involved in the actual fighting. Whatever Unihold thought about the whole affair, denying medical support to those in need was out of the question.
Maddie fancied they would strike at the last guns and then at the trailing infantry if the Bucks would start their first charges soon. The head of the colonists' column was already beginning to disappear into the woods to her left. She sneaked a few paces back and waved. And after a few seconds, two hundred bandits, invisible to their enemies, emerged from the woods and jogged to the crest. It was at that moment the battle began.
Several dozen Bucks launched the day's first attack, charging on their horses through the trees, sweeping the weak flank guards out of the way, and striking at the first company of infantry in the line of march. They killed and wounded possibly fifteen men, lost two of their own, and disappeared again. Over fifty Comanche were hiding near the riverbank. They rose and loosed with their bows at the Colonists from the opposite direction. They caused not so much actual damage as more calls of alarm and confusion. Wounded infantrymen of the first two companies cried for help while their comrades returned fire at the Comanche.
The vanguard, led by Johansson, heard all this, but their command circuit broke down almost immediately. When war cries started to sound, the cavalry tried to form up in this unsuited terrain and turn around. The remaining Comanches and those Creek who were not part of the crossbow force, attacked from the front, some on horses, most on foot. They did this under much hullabaloo and caused many shivers and further anxiety. The best-equipped part of the Expeditionary Force was tied down in dense terrain. Most chose to dismount against an enemy that remained unseen for some time. However, the advancing Bandits met vigorous resistance, and their supreme firepower gave the Colonists an advantage. But they were outnumbered and soon cut off from the main formation. The Colonists caused much grief until the Bandits finally came to close quarters. Of the perhaps seventy Colonists in this group, only two would escape after over an hour of the grim contest. Just twenty-three were wounded. All fell into Bandit hands, and most survived, much to their surprise. Medico Angus McTavrish treated anyone according to the seriousness of the situation, not caring if the person was Bandit or Colonist.
Magnus Johansson was not among them. He had ridden back with a small group of aides and guards to join his main force to regain control there.
As the Creek centuries reached the low crest, they beheld the enemy just before them. Quite sensibly, the captain in charge of the four smaller laser cannons there had ordered them to ready themselves to fire. This happened almost in front of two hundred crossbows. Maddie spoke some quick words to Amanda, who nodded and shouted: "1st century, load your crossbows. Aim for the gun crews.”
And Maddie called: “Distance one hundred and twenty. Light air from the right.”
“Volley by divisions. Take aim!" called Amanda again before she nodded to the Creek commanding the right-hand division, who inhaled and shouted: "Looooose! – Span and reload!"
As the bolts struck, the middle division discharged their weapons, followed by the remaining division. The second century, accompanied by Jordan, did the same. The whole was repeated and repeated yet again. Within a minute, six hundred bolts hit four gun-crews and heavily damaged much of the electronics of the laser weapons. The Colonists never got a shot off.
Jordan had not loosed a bolt, and neither had Maddie. Maddie cried, "Beware of enemy infantry! – Amanda! We should spread out!"
Indeed, while the first two infantry formations were forming a crude line of battle to the front against the onrushing Bandits, the third had turned to face the crest. The remaining company was showing up to join in the fray. Bullets were whizzing around, and three Creek had been hit. One had crumbled and was helped back by his two mates, as they had trained to do. Another one stumbled back on her own. A third lay still. Maddie knew him. Some years ago, he thought pulling at her hair at every opportunity was funny. She had been mad at him then. Now she wished he would do it again.
Amanda screamed: “1st century, skirmish order! Deploy to the right. Free fire on command of the section leaders! Keep those Colonists down!" Maddie nodded and went to work herself.
Meanwhile, it dawned on several Colonists that they were in serious trouble. They hurried to make their remaining cannons ready. They also put the mortars into firing positions. Their leaders could not make out much on the front, and the enemy harassing them from the riverbank was almost invisible. But they knew there were at least several dozen Bandits along a crest to the right. Bandits equipped with crossbows were pretty much in the open. Two mortars were turned in that direction.
Some Colonists had already decided they had not signed up for this severe fighting and were trying to get away, while others collected their nerves and used their rifles and other firearms. A mounted charge of Bucks met a hail-storm of bullets, bringing down horses and riders. Hunter Cain yelled angrily, but then he flew through the air, hit the ground heavily, and his world went black.
Sheilah knew nothing of this. She worked with her crossbow. But suddenly, everything was so complicated, so different from the shooting range. She believed she had loosed fifteen times but had no idea if she had hit anything. She stared aghast at what remained of a woman's head right at her side, struck by a .577 bullet.
There was a strong force of Bucks, one hundred and twenty well mounted and led by their own chief, yet waiting to be committed, held back in reserve. They waited deep in the forest, listening to the din. A charge of them would rout that infantry, but they had not got the word yet. So they waited.
Even the 2nd crossbow century was not completely aware of what was happening at their right. They were busy confronting the rear-guard infantry and got the upper hand. Their enemy had few rifles and fewer shotguns. The Colonists could not get close enough to make good use of the shotguns. And they learned, to their dismay, that the 'primitive' Bandits had much stronger crossbows than their own. Over half of the 4th infantry had been equipped with light crossbows. Many were already down or bolting.
Maddie was confused. She was convinced she had hit at least two opponents. But after the elation at the accuracy of the opening salvos, all had turned into chaos and blood. A few triplets had moved forward enthusiastically. Four of the twelve had been hit. In theory, it had been a fine idea that when one of the three was injured, the other two would help him or her. But this led to the embarrassing situation that the 1st century was reduced to sixty or so effective fighters soon because at least twenty helped their wounded mates or friends to safety. She wondered if anybody would return. Also, there was at least one deadly marksman opposite her, who had killed or wounded at least three of the Bandits, making good use of his rifle with a good scope attached. She was about to aim at someone she thought was the marksman when a strange sound filled the air. An explosion, and then another behind her in the woods. Smoke marked that location. And more explosions, coming closer. One threw Earth and stones up in the air, less than one hundred meters behind her. Did the Spirits throw bolts of anger at them?
Two mortars had discharged and overshot. The gunners were anxious not to hit their own infantry, and they carefully reduced the distance. So it was not easily remedied, but after the gunners had recognized they were just about right, they had a number of grenades left to fire for effect.
Jordan was apprehensive now. He knew the cause of the havoc was the mortars. He knew they could not stay, but behind them were the explosions. A bold move would have been to charge. The mortars were hitting just behind them. Shortening the distance by another seventy-five meters would bring the bombardment on top of them. Another fifty meters were needed to get the crossbows into effective range. But going forward into the open had never been part of the plan. He decided on a third option, then. "Spread out! Spread further out!" He tried to reach Maddie via commlink, but she did not answer.
Amanda tried desperately to re-organize her command and rose to get attention. And attention she got! About one hundred meters away, the trigger of a rifle was pulled back gently. The .577 bullet struck, shattered her collarbone, and threw her back, twirling. Sheilah screamed, and so did Tommie, as they saw their mother going down. Angela saw it, too. She had just administered crucial first aid to a young Bandit and rushed to Amanda’s side.
Maddie heard Jordan, but she was busy. She knew a deadly marksman was opposing her. While Maddie searched for him, she had brought down one of his mates. Instinctively she knew he was looking out for her, too. Then she saw a new candidate in her sights. Maddie observed a muzzle turning towards her with its attached scope pointing straight at her. They had found each other.
The mortars corrected the distance again. This time their solution would be correct.
Last edited by GreyLord1 year ago, edited 1 time in total.
[mention]Nainur[/mention] and [mention]GreyLord[/mention] that was quite the epic battle you came up with - excellent. The colonists almost careless approach remind of General Custer at Little Big Horn. But the chapter ends with a perfect cliffhanger. I also liked the Shakespeare quote! I can hardly wait for the conclusion!
Caesar73 wrote: ↑1 year ago
@Nainur and @GreyLord that was quite the epic battle you came up with - excellent. The colonists almost careless approach remind of General Custer at Little Big Horn. But the chapter ends with a perfect cliffhanger. I also liked the Shakespeare quote! I can hardly wait for the conclusion!
That was, as Caesar73 already mentioned, an epic battle, and indeed it is not over yet.
> They had found each other.
Can we really lose Maddie (again)? Yes, it is a cliffhanger, but like so often in TV series, you can't kill the main character (again), can you?
Well done [mention]GreyLord[/mention] and [mention]Nainur[/mention]. This is a truly epic tale.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
Well, as they say, no plan survives contact with the enemy. Although the Colonists had practically no plan to begin with, and allowing themselves to be ambushed and defeated in detail like that was a complete failure of leadership and advance scouting, even if it was expected given the motivations and who was in charge of the whole debacle.
The tension of the eve of battle is described well. The proverbial calm before the storm.
GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
She stared aghast at what remained of a woman's head right at her side, struck by a .577 bullet.
I think people often forget how devastating a rifle round is against a human body due to the physics involved, despite the bullet being small. Kind of why the whole notion of shooting for the head is a thing only for movies, there is simply no need, a round to the chest will probably completely destroy at least one vital organ. Some of those wounds can be quite gruesome.
Plus of course the other practical reason of 'it is already hard to hit anything in battle conditions to begin with'. Statistics on combat accuracy are pretty woeful across the board in real life, to the point where while people joke about 'stormtrooper aim' in Starwars, they actually have much better accuracy in the movie then real life soldiers do, from what I remember. But enough silly trivia.
Both of those realities are captured well here, both the complete chaos that the battle quickly devolves into, and at least some of the devastating effect of even the weaker weapons involved (without devolving into excessive descriptions of gore).
GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
A third lay still. Maddie knew him. Some years ago, he thought pulling at her hair at every opportunity was funny. She had been mad at him then. Now she wished he would do it again.
I think this is the moment Maddie truly realizes the gap between daydreaming about being a great warrior, and the harsh realities of being a soldier. Fighting to protect your home sounds very heroic and noble, but it is better to not have to do it in the first place. Of course that is a lesson that is constantly forgotten and relearned when it is already too late...
GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
In theory, it had been a fine idea that when one of the three was injured, the other two would help him or her. But this led to the embarrassing situation that the 1st century was reduced to sixty or so effective fighters soon because at least twenty helped their wounded mates or friends to safety.
Reminds me of a very chilling bit of information I once heard about why land mines are made the way they are; killing a man takes one enemy off the battlefield, but blowing a man's leg off takes three; the injured man, and the two carrying him away. I do not know how literally accurate that statement is/was, but the basic, cruel, logic, makes sense, and has stuck with me till this day...
And now I will make a (probably wrong, but speculation is fun) prediction:
Maddie will loose before the enemy marksman, killing him, but due to the travel time of the bolt, he will get a shot off as well, and she will probably be severely injured, maybe even unconscious (ie waking up after the battle, probably needing emergency surgery).
slackywacky wrote: ↑1 year ago
That was, as Caesar73 already mentioned, an epic battle, and indeed it is not over yet.
> They had found each other.
Can we really lose Maddie (again)? Yes, it is a cliffhanger, but like so often in TV series, you can't kill the main character (again), can you?
Well done @GreyLord and @Nainur. This is a truly epic tale.
BlissfulMisery wrote: ↑1 year ago
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I think people often forget how devastating a rifle round is against a human body due to the physics involved, despite the bullet being small. Kind of why the whole notion of shooting for the head is a thing only for movies, there is simply no need, a round to the chest will probably completely destroy at least one vital organ. Some of those wounds can be quite gruesome.
...
Both of those realities are captured well here, both the complete chaos that the battle quickly devolves into, and at least some of the devastating effect of even the weaker weapons involved (without devolving into excessive descriptions of gore).
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Thank you, having no objections - it is very true. This is no place discussing such things in detail, the phrase 'gruesome' is very fitting. Indeed combat shooting is difficult and less accurate than in exercises. Readers will notice that even Maddie, by know a notorious shooter amongst the Bandits, does not hit everytime and many bolts will fly wildly, f.e.. However, head-wounds do happen, and when lying in prone position head or should wounds are pretty much the only wounds that do happen if low-trajectory weapons are used.
However, we tried to hit a margin of a fair description what we thought how it might happen hoping not to cross the limits to gare. Seams we have been succesful and that's making me happy.
BlissfulMisery wrote: ↑1 year ago
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And now I will make a (probably wrong, but speculation is fun) prediction:
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You have posted comments on one of my stories. That is appreciated very much. Please tell me what you think about the Tale of an Archer. If you would like your tag added or removed from this list, send me a PM or a post with that request.
And now, we will wrap up the Tale of an Archer. We hope that readers have enjoyed our story. Let us know. It is always nice to be certain.
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Chapter 38
By @GreyLord and @Nainur
Aftermath
Maddie knew she had to aim small to hit small. But she had to be quick also. Earlier she had cunningly changed her position after each hit, but she had forgotten to do it again. Which was why he had marked her.
She exhaled slowly, and her touch at the trigger was gentle. The bolt was off and in the air as she started to duck. Maddie pressed herself into the ground. Something whizzed over her head, but she had not been hit. She exhaled, relieved and wondering if her bolt had hit her target. Maddie spanned her crossbow in that prone position by rolling on her back. But then, two mortar grenades exploded behind her.
Hunter had been thrown off his horse and knocked unconscious sometime earlier, quite early after the start of the fighting. Now he came to senses again. A nasty war drum was booming in his head, but he found himself unharmed, just a bit shaken. His horse, however, had been pierced by a laser rifle beam and killed instantly. Probably the heavy fall had saved him, for it happened not much over twenty meters away from the enemy. He would have drawn unwelcome attention if he had been rolling around. The Spirits were with him. Now that infantry had retreated, he was entirely alone. He saw corpses and squirming wounded, both Colonists and Bandits. He crawled to a spot offering a slightly better view.
He still heard sounds of the fight where the aggressor's van fought it out in the woods. This was almost behind him. Hunter also heard and partly saw some skirmishing here and there. He could join such a fight but would not make much difference there. He also noticed a few laser cannons and the big guns silent and nobody living there. Some laser cannons were, however, still operating. Also, there were two or more fire-spitting things, which obviously caused explosions and destruction. And this destruction occurred where the crossbow centuries had been. And the crest was under attack by men on foot. The Creek were still there, and Sheilah was still there! He cried out loud in anger. He jumped up and ran, but not towards the affray.
Even without knowledge of highly sophisticated strategies and tactics written down in books and regulations to be merrily discussed by writers, experts, and students, Bandits knew some of the practical parts of it. They knew a force held in reserve could come in very handy at times. This role fell to the Bucks. Over one hundred of them, well-armed and mounted, had obviously still not been called up. He would fetch them to relieve the Creek. To rescue Sheilah. He found a stray horse, mounted it, and went off to search for his chief.
One grenade exploded not far from the crest but did no harm other than striking terror into the Creeks in that area. But the other hit the ground just a few meters from where Angela had cared for Amanda's wound. Amanda was thrown to the ground and screamed because of the pain. She had not been hit, but Tommie, her strapping son, had fallen heavily on her. She could hardly breathe.
Tommie did not make a move, nor did he make a sound. Amanda, face down, was in pain to win free. She had not understood what was happening, and her ears were ringing.
Angela had been hit by three splinters. One had cut a calf. The second one had severed the thigh of the same leg, causing a wound that bled considerably. The third had hit her stomach and caused pain so terribly that she almost fainted, screaming at first and then only able to gasp and pant.
Maddie looked around and became aware of what had happened. A few Creeks ran to help, and Sheilah was there, too. So, she was not needed there. Maybe she was too terrified to go there.
So, she crawled forward. Her crossbow was ready again. Carefully and slowly, she lifted her head a few meters away from her previous spot. She did not see her enemy, but a rifle was lying at his position, and a motionless arm she beheld, too. She had hit! But there were still some Colonists left, and she saw others moving in her direction. She looked around.
She was under the impression that the 1st century had simply melted away, even if she saw only six or seven motionless bodies. Where was everybody? She could see only a few triplets left, still engaging the enemy. A thicker laser beam cut the trunk of a tree, and the upper third of the tree crashed down. One of the remaining laser cannons had joined the occasion. What was there for a voice in her head, she wondered. The Spirits? And suddenly, Sheilah was back again, tears in her eyes and losing bolts blindly at the enemy.
"Sheilah! What are you doing? Get down!" Maddie pulled her to the ground. "What is with your mother? How's Angela?"
"My mother? She cannot fight, but... she is well." Sheilah gasped while she reloaded frantically. "Angela is wounded terribly. She might die."
Angela! Impossible.
"And Tommie?"
Sheilah just shot again, hitting nothing but grass. Sheilah sobbed. Maddie's eyes widened. It could mean only one thing. Tommie! Tommie gone?
Maddie, when researching and getting intrigued by it all, had learned about the crisis of a battle when a bitterly fought combat hung in the balance. She had imagined a sweeping victory, but now she knew that such a crisis had come.
She looked around and saw the fleet-footed Lizzy, the only runner nearby.
"Lizzy! Help Sheilah, then run to Medico Angus and tell him he is needed here! Sheilah! Listen! You have done enough. Take some help and get Angela and your mother out of here!"
"But!
"There’s no time for that! Move!" Maddie glared at her, and her stare could be very menacing at times. Sheilah had shivers and left. Lizzy was already on her way. Good.
And finally, Maddie remembered the com-link. The voice in her head! She saw Jordan jumping and dashing from cover to cover, searching for her. This was dangerous! This was folly! That called her into the present, finally.
"Jordan! Keep down! I am fine!" she messaged. She shot at a very adventurous, shouting Colonist, and he went down, screaming while trying to crawl back. She slipped into cover again and reloaded. She had not many bolts left. But they were discarded quivers left and right of her…
"Maddie! What happened? I was scared to death!" He was panting. He had been worried beyond belief. "What is going on? Where are you?"
"At the crest in hiding. We've been hard-pressed. But there seems to be a lull momentarily, but that won't last long, I imagine. Amanda is wounded and must leave the field. Angela seems to be severely wounded. Tommie is dead, I believe! Two division commanders are down, and I do not know where the third is. The century is as good as gone. More infantry is coming in my direction. We need to combine!"
"Maddie! That's terrible news! I try to contact Angus. We have beaten the infantry before us! But we should re-form and, yes, combine. Fall back. Tell everybody to fall back into the woods, skirmishing. Tell them to move in our direction, and we shall assemble in the wood again!"
"Yes. See you!" She loosed again, causing at least a shout of anger.
The bots exchanged messages of relief. Maddie being offline had been the final drop to tip the balance. They had monitored messages and satellite coverage but had no clear picture of the events. But they concluded it was severe. They messaged the Headmaster, who had transports and more medical personnel in attendance. Within four minutes, the first started towards Little Big Bend.
Maddie, now acting warband chief, gave the order to anyone she saw and screamed at them to pass it on. She watched and noticed that the call to fall back was well responded to. 1st century was a spent force. She gave another look at the enemy. The last, she thought, before retreating. But then, finally, she saw someone she had been searching for the whole day. Had reserved her best bolts for. No, she would not retreat now.
Magnus Johansson knew the day was lost. It remained to save as many as possible and to try again another day. Attacking and taking the Creek village had become impossible, and while he wondered how that had happened, he knew he could not dwell on it. However, he had found his calmness, even when his horse had been hit. His best troops fought it out in the woods. But a goodly part of his 1st and 2nd infantry was still in some order and falling back. The infantrymen of the 2nd were retreating along the line of march and picking up some wounded and stragglers. But he thought the 3rd had bested the savages at that crest. However, these men conceded some losses in achieving it, and their panache had dwindled. He could take the rest of the 1st infantry, combine it with what remained of the 3rd, and break through the enemy lines there! Attack and breakthrough, maybe he could even rout the savages!
He rose and started spreading the word as he was thrown down, feeling a terrible pain in his abdomen.
Maddie had aimed for the heart. She knew she would have hit even if her husband's mortal foe was over one hundred meters away. She had found her shooting mojo once more. But while the bolt darted out, her target stood up. Therefore he was hit lower in his body as she had aimed for, but he was at least severely wounded. He went to the ground, and she saw him squirming. She thought it had been a good shot, not perfect, but good. She reloaded, watching a few of that man Johansson's mates trying to assist the fallen. Then they ran away without him. She did not loose again but ran towards the woods. There were still grenades exploding and the cannon over-shooting.
Johansson's last scheme was beginning to fail already. The 2nd company had only caught the word retreat, not more. So they started doing so, which turned into a rout, for the other orders were never given, and confusion wrecked their nerves. The men and women of the 2nd thought they were almost surrounded because of the triumphant hullabaloo from the riverside.
The Comanche that had started the fight almost two hours earlier retreated to the river after successfully distracting the Colonists and swam a distance to avoid contact. Now they were back almost in the rear of the Colonists. Though relatively small in number, they caused terror and panic. They killed only a few but took many prisoners. The crews of the mortars and the cannon surrendered to them. The Comanche showed them what ropes could do.
About One hundred and twenty Bucks rode out of the woods, led by their Chief and guided by Hunter. It was not done in a full gallop, for the terrain was unsuited, but more in a trot. Anyway, it seemed like an avalanche to weary and footsore people. The last resistance crumbled. The Bucks put some enemies down and took many prisoners. The Creek and the other Comanche finally cleared the woods, and the Colonists' vanguard was annihilated: nobody escaped there, and those who were not killed had to surrender. All who did were more or less wounded.
The Battle for Creek Village, or Johansson's Stand, or the Battle of Little Big Bend was over.
A few days later, fifty-three horrified Colonists arrived at Kennedy to tell the tale, claiming to be ambushed by thousands of savages who knew no mercy. It was a tale of horror, mayhem, and bloodshed. Many had lost their weapons. Panic spread in the remainder of the Colony. The Colony only calmed down when the Bandits released many wounded, and Unihold's word gained credit again. An airlift evacuated many wounded. The Bandits had no intention of retaining the severely wounded. The information sank in slowly that the only reason this had been possible was that the Bandits behaved rather generously and by no means cruelly.
The Bandits would not attack but defend themselves. The other prisoners were released after a few negations, but one hundred and thirteen, over a third of the force, would only return dead. Magnus Johansson was amongst them.
Jordan had walked the field after a long embrace with Maddie and accompanied her while parties were still searching for wounded. Then he looked down at a corpse, the face of the dead still a grimace of pain. Maddie's face was blank, and she finally said simply:
“He was an enemy. He is dead now. You can forget him.”
Maddie shouldered her crossbow thinking she had shot at a human being for the last time. She never asked if Jordan had recognized her bolt. She did not retrieve that bolt or any other. While daydreaming and studying and planning the battle, it appeared heroic and easy. It had inspired her fancy. Now she had tasted combat and found she did not like it. Not at all. Her life would change again. She would take care of her family now. She would see that Jordan would become chief someday and to hell with the rest of it. She embraced Jordan and said, "Jordan, I am not sure, but I believe I am already bearing a child!"
"Oh, Maddie!" Jordan was delighted but also bewildered. "Didn't you tell me you planned to drink some medicine to avoid it?"
"I did. And took it. But it was never a guaranteed thing. Are you angry?"
"Of course I am not!"
She sighed. "Oh, and Jordan?"
"Yes, love?"
"Tommie is a fine name, I believe."
"It is. It is indeed."
The losses amongst Bucks, Comanche, and Creek were far less severe than those of the attacking Colonists, yet everyone who had joined the ranks of the Spirits prematurely would be missed very much. Actually, even the losses of the 1st century were far less dramatic than they had seemed during the fight. Besides Tommie, eight men and women in this unit died that day. Seventeen had been more or less severely wounded. But many injured had been helped and brought back by four, sometimes even more shocked mates, friends, or neighbors, which is why Maddie had been under the impression the unit had melted away, for it did indeed. They had been too inexperienced, and there were too few warrior-like people in the ranks. Many had dawdled. Some even failed to return. For a time, less than twenty Creeks were still with Maddie. The 2nd century faced similar difficulties but suffered less. Three had died, and eleven were wounded.
All in all, the Bandits grieved over the combined losses of forty-seven dead. They conceded no prisoners but counted over two hundred wounded. The Bandits respected the sanctuary of Doctor DeLille's ambulance, and the Colonists were never close to Medico Angus McTavrish's site, and both 'field hospitals' were very busy but saved many a life in danger. They welcomed the reinforcement by Unihold.
Angela's life hung in the balance for a precarious time, but Angus' skill and tekk-now-logged prevailed. In due time, she recovered. She would dance at her own wedding and mating three months later. This was the beginning of own long and most honorable ancestry of the McTavrish family.
Also, Amanda's healing went without complication, at least physically, but she grieved long. Chief Samuel needed to avoid bondage games for terribly long six weeks and be careful about it for the rest of her life. Much later, Shordan Archah succeeded him as Chief of the Creek. Mae’aed-dee danced long that day.
Creek Village was never removed. Because of the battle's outcome, a period of relative peace was to come, and the plans to evacuate and rebuild never came into effect. However, some families who preferred a greater distance to Kennedy founded a second one in the following years.
Sheilah was deeply saddened by the death of her twin, and she never really got over it, but she went with Hunter, joined the Bucks, and was a mother of fine children. Their tale will be told elsewhere, maybe, as will be revealed what happened to the bots. But now, the Tale of the Archer has been pretty much told.
Epilogue
About six hundred years later. (remark: thought to place it even past Bandit Scout, Newhome becoming an even more civilized place)
Professor Margaret Donahue-Archah looked sternly at the young men and women at Unihold's Lou Harriman Institute of Newhome History and Social Policy. They are barely beyond being boys and girls, and I shall miss them, she thought. But this was not the right time for sentimentality, as the final exams were approaching fast.
“Right, folks, I shall answer questions to help you on your way to the exam next week. But I will ask you some, too. Not all of them are relevant, for only three of the six topics will be selected, as you know. So, be prepared.
“The first one in consideration for the exam is 'Tale of an Archer.' Let's start. Date of the Battle of Little Big Bend and its significance to Newhome's History? Who… okay, Amy!"
“The exact date is unknown, but we know it happened around Thanksgiving, year 4 After Landing."
“Just a moment, Amy. – Norman, you are finding the clouds in the sky more interesting, as it seems. Why do we know the time of the year more or less exactly, Norman?”
Norman startled. “Erm… because… because… erm, well, the Creeks had not completed their harvest or only just completed, and therefore they had to make a stand.”
“Good for you, Norman, good for you! Pay attention, now! Amy, please, do continue.”
“Its significance lies chiefly in the success of the freshly founded Bandit Confederation, under War Chief Buzz Harriman, that rushed to assist the beleaguered Creek tribe. This assistance caused a defeat that maintained the independence of the so-called Bandit tribes, safeguarding their heritage as a vital part of Newhome's Society. In contrast, the Extremist Wing of Earth Supremacy, also known as the 'Earth Rules Movement,' suffered a serious setback. The loss of men and material could not be replaced."
“Thank you, Amy. Which other factors contributed to this outcome? Reece?”
“The famous 200 crossbows made by Jordan Archer and the training of the Creek to employ them.”
“Aaaaw, something is missing, or rather: someone… Reece? No? Who can help? Norma-Jean?”
“It is well supported by various sources that his wife, Mae'aed-dee or Maddie, was also the decisive strategist and vital in training the Creek. She was a sharpshooter and probably killed the "EWES"-leader, Magnus Johansson."
“The latter is unproven, it being folklore, but the rest is well confirmed." acknowledged the professor.
“She was much more important than he was!" interfered Clarisse, which caused an outcry from some classmates. The teacher called for silence.
“Now, each of you is entitled to have an opinion, but it should be fair and well-founded. Certainly, Jordan was no soldier, and it is probably fair to say he never expected to be one. Mae'aed-dee, whose origin remains unknown, was certainly of hotter blood, but what does this mean? So, let's talk again over Maddie and Jordan, or Mae'aed-dee and Zhordan…class: free discussion."
The professor leaned back, enjoying the discussion unfolding. It was an excellent academic atmosphere; her kids educated themselves by speaking and listening. A sudden outburst during the discussion mainly dedicated to the influence of The Final Courtship caused some release to a lingering tension between the different camps, as Pieter said: "I know, of what tradition you are speaking, Amy, and you shall be welcome!".
“Not even in your dreams Pieter VanVluyten, not even in your dreams!" Amy Gomez retorted. Amy Gomez was as proud of her Bandit heritage as anybody. Her ancestry was recorded way back longer than one Chief Diego Gomez. Everyone in the room – with the remarkable exemption of Amy and Pieter – knew they would marry someday and have wonderful children.
Pieter VanVlyuten, scion of one of the dwindling numbers of families almost purely Colonist, raised his hand in a soothing gesture.
“Oh, well. An ancestor of mine was with the expedition, being in the 3rd infantry. My great-grandfather got very old and told me some family stories. My family despised Jordan Archer then, but they hated his wife. While they called him a traitor that had defected to the – forgive me, folks: savages, and gave them crossbows which killed many an honest man - again: sorry – at least my family always thought Maddie established the crossbow infantry. They thought it was she who killed my ancestor, who was a famous hunter and marksman. His brother, my ancestor, claimed to be shot by her as well but survived. With all respect, professor, it is not folklore to me but history. We will never know the full truth. But there must be a reason why my family, who never called it Little Big Bend but Johansson's Stand and held a celebration every year for two or three generations in memory, shunned him and hated her. It is sad that my great-great and so on grand-father was wounded and his brother died that day, but many died, and some who just wanted to be left alone died, too. Johansson is still a hero to some people, but not to me. I think our Home would be a darker place if the Bandits had been subdued and surely enslaved. That is what I wanted to say." He looked down and couldn't see Amy's look.
“How-how-how-how-how…” muttered many in the room.
Margaret smiled and sighed, too. Yes, it was hard to lose them, and she would restart with a new class four years younger, strange people, and hopefully eager as well. She nodded as the class started to write arguments and characteristics on a whiteboard and finally came to a conclusion. Yes, this class was ready to spread out its wings.
Frederic Cain finally summarized, "…so, all in all, Jordan was most probably a gentle person, sensible and sometimes awkward socially, but he stood up when the time came. He took office but never really aspired to it, but answered the call. Jordan did not find much pleasure in producing weapons but continued to produce crossbows later in his life – his crossbows model 23 and the lighter 24 became standard for a long time. He found more joy in farming and being an artisan. In this, he was just the stuff a Colony would need, and if all had been more like him, the Creek war would never have happened. The phrase 'this is jordanstyle' has become a description for well-designed, high-quality products or 'solidly built' in the best of senses. His personality was vital in the reconciliation, building bridges for those willing to cross, But he never ever went to Kennedy again. Billie?"
William 'Billie' Clayton added, "It is well known that Bandit women are anything but shy and silent when affairs need to be discussed. We can well assume that Maddie was very much into Jordan's counsel. She was stubborn, however, to stay behind the curtain. So, her later life is a bit of a mystery, but it seemed that Fred Kennedy disbanded the idea to name a certain brain capacity after her when he saw her staring at him, thought better of it, and called it 'Newhome Memory Syndrome.' We know of at least five children she gave birth to, who are:
"Tommie, artisan and elder of the Creek, married to Theresa McTavrish. Their descendants were among the elders of the Creek and several times called to be chiefs as well.
"Louisa, married to Miguel, Chief Diego Gomez's grandson, a warrior whose descendants are still playing an important role amongst the Comanche. Louisa called herself Gomez-Archah, though, founding a tradition.
"Jordana married Doctor William Donahue and became a Professor of Botany at Unihold. Her book is still a standard for readers not only by those studying the ecology system of Newhome if written on and newly edited every five years or so by a council of Unihold Members, and professor Donahue-Archah, is, of course, an ancestor of you, professor.
"Matthew, killed in a skirmish in his mid-thirties, was a father of two after being married to Daisy Waters of the Creek.
"Erin Madeline Archer seemed to have never married and stayed with her parents. She became a master artisan of wood carving and pottery. Some of her art is part of the Unihold Museum of Arts. She was famous and much asked for Guardian in Bandit Courtship ceremonies."
Professor Donahue-Archah nodded. One final question about this possible exam topic: "Why did the crossbow warbands or centuries disappear? Free discussion, guys!"
"To keep it simple and short: it was a unique occasion!" said Norman.
"Well, it is certainly short and maybe insufficient." commented the teacher dryly. "Well?"
Pieter responded: "No matter if it was Jordan's creation, or Mae'aed-dee deserves the most credit, or if the credit should be given to each of them evenly, it stopped because the Archers did not continue to work on it. They never engaged in combat again but concentrated on the carpentry shop and family life. Even their production of crossbows turned almost into a hobby."
Amy added: "And, to be frank, the whole thing was not very Bandit style. The strict discipline, constantly working hard on it, and keeping up the level would require regular professional troops. The Bandits did not do this. They do not do it in our times.
"At least in that area, relative peace began, and the need for it diminished quickly."
"Okay, that will suffice, I believe. Let's leave this. The next topic is the Failing of Technology."
That is all that really needs to be said. But, if I listened to my own advice, I would not have written the rest. What a great tale, and what a nice way to end the story, having the look back from later in time. Congrats [mention]GreyLord[/mention] and [mention]Nainur[/mention] you created a fine piece of work.
So... The failing of technology next?
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
I will keep it short: A grandiose tale with a beftting final part you have told us [mention]GreyLord[/mention] and [mention]Nainur[/mention]. As [mention]slackywacky[/mention] already mentioned: The Epilogue at the end is a nice touch. Magnus Johansson met his doom and rightly so. Maddie proved herself a courageous fighter and a leader. Who would have thought that at the beginning of this tale. I am already looking forward to the next tale you two will tell!
Well, all things come to an end, in more ways then one...
GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
The third had hit her stomach and caused pain so terribly that she almost fainted, screaming at first and then only able to gasp and pant.
The type of pain where you can only take the shallowest of breaths, for any deeper is excruciating. You have to stay focused on breathing, constantly feeling on the verge of running out of air, while you simply lay there and suffer, hoping for relief. Not a pleasant experience. Not at all.
GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
He went to the ground, and she saw him squirming.
Poetic that he experienced a similar fate to what he had wished to bring upon others, dying alone and suffering in the mud.
GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
“He was an enemy. He is dead now. You can forget him.”
I really like this line, specifically the emotion and sentiment expressed (a combination of tired exhaustion and apathy after what she has just witnessed).
I like it when there are 'historical' sections in fiction, and this one is handled well, having a decent mix of truth and fiction. History is a far more complex subject then people often give it credit for; rarely is the story told an accurate one and trying to piece together something as close as possible to the truth is often a near impossible task, even when discussing relatively recent events.
First hand accounts are also often unreliable, as people misremember things, or delude themselves into recalling an entirely different version of events. The mind has a great ability to 'fill in the details', even if those details are usually entirely made up, which is also probably why dreams often tend to have so much detail.
Regardless of all of that, a good send-off to the story, with the epilogues for various characters.
Dear readers all! Thank you for your support and comments, this naturally includes the helpful, constructive critics, too. A special thanks to
[mention]Caesar73[/mention] , [mention]slackywacky[/mention] and [mention]BlissfulMisery[/mention] .
When I made contact to [mention]GreyLord[/mention] quite earlier this your suggesting a story in the wonderful creation of Newhome I had had only small hope to get a positive respond. But I did.
So I was able to outline a story to be called ‘Tale of an Archer’, which would happen well before Bandit Scout, but not much after the end of the Argonaut-arc focussing on the beginning of the Colony’s transition.
Heartbroken Colonist Jordan Archer, widower, would turn his back to the Colony and met a Bandit girl by the infamous name of ‘Muddy’. Both main-characters should certainly not perfect and have their struggles and quarrels, but finally turn to each other and save each other. We explored this in a role-play.
While Greylord set the frame and concentrated on the Colony-side including Jordan, I was happy to take care of ‘Mae’aed-dee’ and the Creek, their views and believes, The Spirits and The Balance, their attitude to their home. In the end it fell on me to describe Little Big Bend and the epilogue. It was a great pleasure and privilege telling a bit of the tale. Thanks for your patience!
With permission by Greylord, maybe I shall write another one to happen on Newhome, again in their early stages of the Colony and it’s demise due to the loss of contact to Earth.
Greetings to the friends and readers of this story. Much of the story depends upon the existence of fusion power, as yet unobtainable. On December 14, 2022, Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory announced that they had achieved a fusion trigger. That means that they got more energy out of a reaction than they put in to start it. They caution that a commercial application is still a long way off. None-the-less, this is a major achievement. See
GreyLord wrote: ↑1 year ago
Greetings to the friends and readers of this story. Much of the story depends upon the existence of fusion power, as yet unobtainable. On December 14, 2022, Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory announced that they had achieved a fusion trigger. That means that they got more energy out of a reaction than they put in to start it. They caution that a commercial application is still a long way off. None-the-less, this is a major achievement.
Interesting enough, although as the joke goes commercial fusion is always just 'a few decades away', and has been for over 50 years.
The reality is, even if there was a perfectly viable commercial design today, it would be at least a decade before anything was actually built (power plants take a long time to build), and would likely suffer the usual teething problems any new technology has at first. Plus, there are a lot of vested interests in the energy sector that would fight tooth and nail to delay such a thing (as they have already done with fission and other alternatives).
But of course it would be an understatement to say that such a thing also holds great promise. In theory, commercial fusion power could drastically cut the cost of producing electricity (I mean 10 fold or even more), and obviously massively clean up our existing energy grids. Cheap power like this could revolutionize society on a massive scale; one simple example might be continuing to use hydrocarbon fuels (gas/oil) where it is convenient (as any design for a fusion reactor is likely to be something massive* and therefore limited to large power plants rather then portable), but then recapturing the CO2 from the air later using cheap fusion power (this can already be done, it is just obviously a net loss of energy so it is pointless without a cheap alternative source of power).
*To not go too deep into the details, it is much MUCH easier to achieve fusion if building big, part of the reason it happens naturally in the Sun.
Actually, that sort of proposed 'carbon recapture' (not exactly the same thing as what people usually mean when they use that term today) might even be used to produce graphene or diamond (for construction purposes), out of effectively thin air (leveraging all the carbon we have collectively dumped into the atmosphere so far). But of course such a thing would again, require relatively efficient fusion power, which I suspect would take multiple technological generations to achieve.
Other applications for large amounts of cheap power include: long range space travel; fusion power is bad for getting out of the atmosphere as it tends to be consistent like fission once you get it going, but after you are out of the atmosphere it is almost an ideal power source as space travel is all about accelerating and decelerating over time. Also, water desalination (a very energy intensive process) would suddenly become far more affordable, which would have obvious benefits. Hydroponic farming would also become far more viable, and pretty much all forms of recycling as well, as they tend to suffer from being energy inefficient compared to simply digging up more stuff. Even producing fertilizer could be done in a more sustainable way, given cheap, relatively clean* electricity. And all this is just the tip of the iceberg for potential benefits.
*Fusion is not an entirely clean power source, as most proposed methods do create a massive amount of radiation, and often some amount of radioactive waste, although it is usually shorter lived and easier to dispose of then fission byproducts, and certainly it is still worlds better then what we are currently doing to generate power.
Anyways, I will cut it off there, as even this abridged version is probably more then anyone wanted to read in regards to such a thing on a board like this.
Anyways, I will cut it off there, as even this abridged version is probably more then anyone wanted to read in regards to such a thing on a board like this.
But I enjoyed it very much. Well said and cogent analysis.
It has been a long and difficult road to achieve the trigger. Some years ago, I had a long sit down visit with Edward Teller, the father of the hydrogen bomb. He was interested in commercial uses of tritium and at several points in the conversation, he would comment that a certain development was not just an engineering problem. I can hear his saying that about this recent trigger event.
[mention]Argentum[/mention], I am so pleased that you read this story and commented. It is always a pleasure to see this tale show up on page 1 again. And it will give you much better context as you continue to read about the Bandit Scout.
I must tell you that this idea of this story came from its coauthor, [mention]Nainur[/mention]. He was very much the coauthor in fact and not just in name.
Thanks @Nainur for pointing me to this story and thanks to you both @GreyLord and @Nainur for this story! I love futuristic settings. I've only read the first two chapters so far, but like all other multi-part stories on here that enjoy, I've bookmarked as I'm hooked (and trying to break a bad habit of only commenting once I'm caught up on the whole story far). Glad to find another great story that is promising after only the first two chapters, and looking forward to catching up on the remaining 36!
And also glad to find a nice story that is not in my preferred F/M and f/m category.
I do have a question, that may have been already answered by some of the commentators, so I may stumble upon it eventually, but just in case it was not asked, I can't help but wonder if you did the GR calculations yourselves for the trip to Newhome or if you used an online calculator like omni?
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Love to be tied-up