Battle tactics

Baan stepped down to the table, and worked the controls. The majority of the mechanical cityscape retracted into the table, leaving only the regions surrounding the Aether Hub. The renegade barricades, marked by dark pins, cast an ominous, irregular bulge across the smoothly curving lines of roads, railways, canals, and aethertubes of his city. At the hub itself sat a cluster of pins and six mechanical figurines of glittering brass, each marked with a color-coded banner.

Baan pointed to the renegade deployments around the Hub. "They have positioned the majority of their forces at the Hub. A direct assault would be...calamitous. The criminal Renegade Prime commands the position personally."

The Grand Consul's elongated metal claws clacked into something vaguely like a fist. "Pia Nalaar."

"Yes," Baan acknowledged. Pia Nalaar, partner of Kiran, mother of Chandra. All three had been issued death certificates twelve years and seven months previous. He'd been disturbed to find two of the three alive and delved into the archives. But there they were, exactly as he recalled. Place of death: Bunarat. Cause of death: arson. Witnessed by: Captain Dhiren Baral.

Baan worked the controls, and a spotlight fell on a section of the renegade positions: the thin neck connecting the Aether Hub to the wards they controlled. "This focus on defending the Hub leaves their connection to their comrades under-defended. Sufficient pressure from both sides will allow us to complete an encirclement of the Hub."

Tezzeret loomed over the table on uneven fists, glaring at the black pins representing renegade defenders. "No siege, Baan. Every minute, automatons and vehicles run out of aether. Just keeping the Gearhulks powered—"

"I predict they will withdraw defenders from the Hub to keep this corridor open. The architect of their defensive strategy exhibits a certain...two-dimensional thinking. I think it likely to be the—to be our guest, Mr. Jura." Tezzeret lifted a brow at his dissembling, and glanced around at the command crew. If any had noted Baan's tilt to the word, they did not look up.

"He was an infantry commander, according to my research. It is doubtful he has significant experience opposing forces enjoying aerial mobility." He twisted a knob, and a series of black pins at road intersections rose higher. "These are defended barricades of overgrown plants. Almost certainly created by their elven accomplice, Nissa."

Baan's long fingers worked the controls like a concert sitarist, setting legions into motion. "Their defenses are primarily along that outer perimeter, with a reserve at the Hub. Our pincer attack," the ticking figurines pressed the black pins back along the neck of the renegade position, "will draw off that reserve." The pins clustered around the Hub trickled away, bolstering their retreating comrades. "And now..."

A flight of miniature thopters whirred to life on the deck of the model Skysovereign. They wobbled across the table, and delicately alighted atop the model Aether Hub.

Baan nodded and stepped back from the dials and control sticks. "Transports loaded with Inspectors. I am reasonably confident that aerial deployment behind Mr. Jura's forward positions would take him unprepared. We land on the upper decks and press downward. If nonlethal glimmersnap and aetherpulse charges fail to dislodge the defenders, canister explosives would be most effective. Few renegades wear full armor, and there would be little risk of shrapnel damaging the Hub itself."

Tezzeret turned to him, a slight tilt to his neck, an appraising look in his eyes. "Why, Baan. What an uncommonly bloodthirsty suggestion. For you."

"This proposal depends upon timing and inertia," he replied, coolly. "If the renegades decline to retreat or surrender, they must be swept aside, lest delay allow them to concentrate fire upon our inspectors. Deaths are inevitable at this juncture. Better they be militants than our civil servants."

The Grand Consul smiled approval. "Can you assure me this will work?"

Baan frowned. "Of course not. I can only make projections based on what knowledge I am privy to. I estimate an 85-percent chance of success."

***

Burn