Outlanders

Chapter 34: The Clash

Fifty yards from the border of the factory town, the Inti army came to a halt, and a lone figure walked up to Zoltána and her forces, wearing an unmistakable orange dress.

Qasikay stopped ten feet away, her mournful face lit only by her torch, which cast twitching shadows across her skin. "Are you the leader of this city?" she asked, showing no sign that she recognized Zoltána.

"I represent the conglomerates that administer this town," said the boss, removing his slick black cap. "May I ask you to introduce yourself?"

"I am pries-" she stopped herself. "I am General Qasikay Ahuanarque of the Inti Empire, servant of the god of the sun. I must ask you to surrender."

"On what terms?"

Zoltána raised an eyebrow.

"Surrender," said Qasikay, "and submit to the imperial division system. Do it peaceably, and I can guarantee you a governorship."

"With chances of upward mobility, I assume?"

Qasikay demurred, then shifted her eyes restlessly. "There is an alternative," she said quickly. "I offer to purchase the services of your army."

Zoltána clenched her fists.

"If you will lend us your army," she continued, "you can rule any land you help to conquer. Your subjects can live by your customs."

"Will you put the agreement in writing?"

"Traitor!" snarled Zoltána.

"Yes. We can draw a contract, in the manner of your people."

"In that case, I think I can- AUGH!"

Before he could finish, Zoltána rammed her bayonet into his back all the way to the muzzle, then hoisted him up. Her face red with fury, she swung her musket and threw the dying boss to Qasikay's feet.

"I speak for the people!" bellowed Zoltána. "That's what we think of your alliance!"

Qasikay looked up to the Zoltána and calmly stepped back.

"Stop this now, Qasikay," Zoltána demanded, thrusting her finger at her. "You have nothing to gain and everything to lose by going through with this. Look around you! There are thousands of people here, and we all have lives to get back to-- even you. Just let them go, Qasikay. Go home and let everyone live for once."

"Do you think I care what I gain?" retorted Qasikay. "I'm not doing this for myself. I have my orders, and I will carry them out."

"No you won't. You're a leader, and if you know what's best for your troops, you'll turn your army around now."

Shaking her head, Qasikay turned and began back to her army. Leif scrambled for words, unsure whether to be heartbroken or furious.

"Open fire," ordered Zoltána. "Kill her."

As she said this, Qasikay swept her hand behind her, leaving a wobbling barrier of water hanging in the air. The first volley of gunshots broke out, raising a bank of thin grey smoke, and the musket balls carved streaks into Qasikay's suspended water, where they stopped, then sank. Qasikay broke into a run, dodging the few arrows that arced down from somewhere in the city.

A few musketeers chased her.

"Stop!" shouted Zoltána, "don't break formation!"

She looked back, and her pulse quickened. Two Kyojin staggered toward the fight, the angry red glare of their boilers rebelling against the darkness, their crooked plumes of smoke blotting out the stars.