Conna stood with Astra at the main door, each holding their rifles by their sides with the butts on the floor and gripping the barrels by the bayonet mount. In their new uniforms, they kept an eye out on the docks. They could hear the work crews on the other side of the ship getting to work repairing the damage. Inky was watching over them herself, with Laurel and Tara at her side. The rest of the girls were installing permanent mounts for the machine guns on the ship's rails and discreet storage for the weapons so they could be hidden from guests.

“No clients at all today,” Conna muttered again in frustration.

“After what the captain did, I doubt anyone of status in this city is going to be getting on the ship,” Astra replied.

“How's she holding up?”

“Somewhere on the line between regretting her alienation of the upper class and ordering us to kill the lot of them.”

“They caved in, though, right?” Conna asked, a touch of concern in her tone.

“Yeah, somewhat. Enough to get us fixed up, but not enough to let us sit here not working. Or rather, the other girls not working.”

“I doubt some of them can work right now. I know Inky was close with her, but she's soldiering on and doesn't need to fuck anyone. Mari and Ving wouldn't be able to see clients right now -- if there were any to be seen.”

“Easy isn't doing much better. She was on deck and saw it all.” Astra shook her head, still surprised by how lucky the fairy was.

“Face it, it's killed the mood of everyone on board.”

“What about the mermaid or that noble girl?”

“Mermaid got quiet. She's not stupid. She could tell her attitude wouldn't be right, but doesn't seem to know any other way of talking. The classy bitch is kind of the same. Knows not to try and say anything to ‘make it better’ but neither of them really knew her well enough to be personally bothered a whole lot.”

“What do you think will happen?”

“Once the ship's fixed, we’re gonna leave. That's for sure. Then dock wherever and open for business. We will prolly be picking up the slack until the others get their grief worked out.” Conna couldn't conceal her interest in the prospect of seeing clients herself.

“I admit, I am looking forward to getting some action.”

“Same, Juno took me under the ship last night so nobody would hear us.”

“That's how I spent my morning.” Astra grinned, then nodded towards a group of men coming onto the docks.

“Those aren't nobles.”

“Nope, they are our class.”

“Ewww, soldiers? They don't have any money,” Conna joked with a smile.

“Hey, we got piles of it. Though they don't look private sector.”

“Nope, ocean blue of the local uniform. At least they aren't armed.” Conna knocked on the door behind her to signal the arrival of potential clients.

The seven men were approaching in a group around a young man blushing as his friends patted him on the back. Jovial in their attitude as they stepped onto the gangplank leading up to the door Conna and Astra were guarding. The moment they did so, the girls tapped the buts of their rifles on the deck, then in perfect sync, readied them in their arms. Now holding them, still aimed away, but with one hand on the grip and one finger extended on the trigger guard while the other hand held the foregrip. The arriving soldiers recognised the crisp reaction and understood the beautiful women at the door were not mere window dressing.

The leading soldier adopted a straighter posture and squared his shoulders before offering a salute. Keeping their hands on their rifles, the girls offered a nod in return. He let down his salute and nodded back.

“Pardon me. I was told this fine vessel was open for the kind of business that might see my younger brother, and newest squadmate, be made into a man. I hope I was not misinformed.”

“Not at all. Just that the last time a group of soldiers attempted that, they did so by force,” Conna explained.

“Oh, no.” The man seemed genuinely concerned.

“They failed and suffered their deserved fate.” Astra left no room for misinterpretation in her tone.

“I see. Well, I can assure you we have no ill intent. Though I can certainly respect your caution.”

“We appreciate that. You are also woefully unprepared if that were untrue.” Conna cocked a smile to ease the tension.

The man returned the smile, “Indeed, and I can imagine a few of the choice words certain officers would use to explain that to me. Though hopefully, money should suffice as adequate preparation for our actual intent.”

“That would be most preferred.” Astra smiled as she opened the door. “Follow me with your brother.”

He gestured for his brother to come along and followed Astra inside, “I had heard your ship had left port already. What brought you… Oh.” He stopped to notice the gaping hole on the opposite side of the ship. “Nevermind.”

They walked into the lounge to see Liddy sitting at her table reading a letter that had arrived earlier. She looked up to see the young men, the youngest of whom was wide-eyed and blushing as his eyes checked every woman in the room. Inky had moved to check out the arrivals and keep an eye on the repairs while Catherine had been sitting with Liddy. Easy was staring out the window, but turned to smile at the arrivals. Emma entered with Foxy and Leira, having fetched them.

“Welcome.” Liddy greeted, standing up. “I’m afraid our ship is a little less than presentable but happy to be having your business.”

“Seems like we arrived at a bad time.” The older brother observed, noticing the struggled smiles of some of the women who managed one.

“Yes." Liddy nodded at the damage. “We lost one of our own. So it is a very bad time. But she would be the first person to throw a fit if we let it stop us from working.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. You have my condolences.” He offered a small bow that Liddy returned with a smile. “I wouldn't want to impose my little brother on anyone grieving.”

“I appreciate that. Lady Catherine Bell here seems to have caught his eye and would most appreciate the distraction.”

He turned to see his little brother bashfully smiling at Catherine, trying to avert his gaze without actually doing it. Turning back to Liddy, he nodded with a smile. Catherine stood up and offered her hand to the young man, and after an elbow to his ribs from his older brother, he took it and was led into one of the work rooms.

Catherine locked the door once they were inside and turned to face the young man -- who seemed to be lost in thought, wondering if he should sit in the bed yet.

“What's your name?” she asked softly.

Brought back to focus, he nervously replied, “Sams... Miss... Lady… Sorry, I'm…”

Catherine silenced him with a smile, “Hush, don't worry Sams, just call me Cat. I lost my ladyship, so I have no title for you to get right or wrong.”

“You were a real Lady?” he asked, surprised. “Well, I mean, of course you are a lady, I just mean…”

“Yes, I was. Long story. Don't fret.” Cat moved to sit him down on the bed and sit beside him. “You don't need to worry so much about decorum here. You are going to war. Can a woman really be more intimidating?”

“Well, yes. I was trained for war.” He cocked a smile.

Cat laughed. “Well said. As well as being so true. You have your wits when you relax, remember that. I like men who can make me laugh as well. Your squad seems to like you very much to arrange this all. How did that happen? I always thought the new guy had it rough?”

“Well, yeah. I mean my brother was there and that helped, but he wasn't going to coddle me. So I just knew I had to do something big. Our bunks had a surprise inspection. I was there alone while the rest were at chow. New guy has to mop up before breakfast. So I hear them tearing the bunks in the next barracks over and I just grabbed everyone's stuff. We all knew where it was hidden. I couldn't get rid of it so I put it all in my locker. They came in, found it, knew it wasn't all mine, but I told them it was. Told them I had gotten it in the mail and hadn't gotten around to sending it home. Got reamed and assigned latrine duty, but no flogging or official marks on my record. I've been one of them ever since... until I told them I’d never been with a woman. So they decided to fix that for me and make me a man.”

“I can't do that for you.” Cat smiled.

“I don't understand.” He looked disappointed and confused.

“Loyalty, taking one for the team, stuff like that makes you a man. You didn't need anyone else's help doing it either. This…” Cat moved to sit on his lap, facing him, legs on either side. “This is just a celebration.”

He smiled, looking up into her eyes.

“Two things you need to know about women first.”

“Yes?”

“First, we love it when men look into our eyes when we talk. You do it admirably.” Cat leant forward to push her cleavage closer. “Second, when she puts them this close to your face, she wants you to look at them.”

Sams grinned and kept eye contact a bit longer before looking down to marvel at the exposed soft flesh. His hands moved to rest on her knees, exposed by her position, and slowly move them up. Reaching her thighs under her dress, he glanced up with an ‘I can do this, right?’ look on his face before her smile told him yes. Leaning in, he kissed her neck and worked his lips lower while his hands moved higher. His fingers stopped as they reached the edge of the lace covering her womanhood and bum. Feeling the delicate material and squeezing tightly on her flesh. His breathing deepened as his lips parted to let his tongue run over her breasts at the edge of where they disappeared under her dress.

“First time getting your hands up a dress?” Cat asked, as she reached behind herself to unfasten her dress.

“First time doing it without getting slapped,” he replied, pulling her closer, looking up into her eyes with his mouth between her breasts.

Cat laughed loudly and kissed him on the forehead, “Glad that didn't spoil your desire. Though you may need them to help me pull this off.”

Undone, her dress loosened and her breasts exposed themselves more with each breath she took. He slowly peeled her dress away to bunch up at her waist and fully expose her chest. Taking each breast in a firm grip, he forced Cat to gasp sharply and smile as he moved to give each proper attention with his mouth in turn.

Cat loved the attention shown to her breasts. Since he was so inexperienced, he tried a bit of everything and it felt good. Moaning and gasping at the right times, mostly even involuntarily, let him know what she liked and he was quick enough to learn. Feeling her nipples pulled by his teeth and pushed with his tongue was her favourite. Slight bite marks on her breasts faded after the pleasure their placement provided. She let him enjoy the process of pleasing her for a while longer, before she craved too strongly between her legs. Feeling his hardness pressing against her wetness even through his trousers.

Sliding down off his lap, she left him confused for a moment, until her hands made it clear what she was planning. Unbinding his trousers and pulling his member free, she shuddered in anticipation at its pleasing size. Yet she couldn't rush things. Taking it in both hands, she slowly ran her tongue up the side and around the head before running it down the other side. Knowing he wasn't experienced enough to last long with such teasing she took it in her mouth and slowly swallowed it before slowly releasing it. She ran her hands up his side and fetched his when they moved to hold hers. Cat placed them on her head so he could control it. Holding her head, he moved her back and forth, getting harder and faster with the pace. Cat gagged and choked as he did but never stopped moaning from the pleasure of being used like that. With him focused on that, Cat was free to use her hands and remove her dress, leaving only her lace underwear on her body.

Pulling her head free, she looked up and started pushing him backwards, crawling onto the bed with him after pulling his trousers off completely. He yanked off his own shirt as she turned around to wiggle her bum in his face while on all fours. Taking the hint, he moved up behind her, letting his hard cock rest on her bum between the cheeks while he ran his hands up and down the naked back before him. Then sliding his fingers under the lace he slowly pulled it free. Reaching back with one hand, she took a hold of him as he tried to aim himself and, with her assistance, found where he needed to be.

Slowly, with her legs widening as they kneeled on the bed, she felt him pushing inside. No matter what experience Cat had in the past, she always felt as though each penetration was her first. Aside from any time a group of men had been pleasing her at once or taking turns of course. Holding her by the hips, he pulled as she rocked back and forth, making each thrust reach deep inside her. Feeling her breasts hanging free and bouncing with each sudden shift in direction, Catherine felt alive like she never did when doing anything else.

In an impressive display of flexibility, Cat lifted one leg to swing over his head as she turned about and pushed him down so that she could face him again, straddling him. He braced himself with one arm while the other was around her waist, to support her while she moved her hips against his thrusts. Now he could admire the movement of her breasts as they bounced and glistened with sweat. She leant in close to let him toy with them again, but instead, he pulled her in for a kiss. Feeling his tongue in her mouth while his manhood penetrated even deeper into her body as she screamed into his mouth the climax she couldn't hold back.

Surprised by her scream, he almost tried to pull away, but Cat wouldn't let him as she held him more tightly and ground her hips harder while she spasmed. Pushed over the edge by her sudden fervour, he burst inside her, grunting loudly. Feeling his hot fluid entering her kept her riding high until he finished, and they both came down together. Still straddling him, she slowly worked her hips as they caught their breath. Leaning back, Cat felt his attention return to her breasts even though he had started to soften inside her.

Downstairs in the room below, Mari wondered angrily how anyone could find it within them to enjoy anything. She stared venomously up at the ceiling.

In another room, Ving sat in Hannah's bed, crying again, her tears long since exhausted.

****

Hannah opened her eyes to see a figure hovering over her. Sitting on her bed holding her hand but facing away. She sighed in disappointment, wishing she had woken up with her legs spread and her body filled.

“You’re awake.” The soldier, one of the many who had had her when she arrived.

“And you are in my bed but not in me. What's wrong?” she said, then smiled.

“Oh, well a sleeping lady is off limits, isn't she?”

“Well, yes, I suppose. Though personally I don't mind as long as it's someone who’s already had the pleasure of permission.”

“Fair enough. But the medic was clear that the only touch we were allowed was your hand to make sure you had a pulse.”

“That bad? How long was I out?” Hannah asked, growing a bit concerned.

“Not really bad, just really close. You were out all night and it's almost lunch.”

“I feel like there is some bad news coming.”

“Well, a bit of something cut your head… and well, you can't stitch anything with hair in the way…”

Hannah opened her eyes wide with terror.

“Now don't get too scared. It was just around the cut, we didn't take it all. Just the one side.” He explained, passing her a little round mirror.

Hannah looked. Her whole right temple was shaved clean and a long stitched line ran across it. The stitches were neat and the scar would eventually be hidden by her hair. She sighed at how she would need to adjust her hair until it grew back a little.

“Help me up,” Hannah ordered

Getting to her feet with some help on her wobbly legs, she was relieved that there was minimal dizziness. She fixed her uniform and put her cap on, making sure to move some hair over the wound so it wouldn't rub.

“You said it was lunch time?”

“Almos… erm… yes. Lunch time.”

***

As they listened to Catherine working, Liddy spoke about the letter she had been reading. “It would appear there is a special job for you four.”

“Something to do with us being Emberborn no doubt.” Foxy verbalised her observation since Emma, Easy, and Leira were there with her.

“Yes. Some kind of work program fixing up an old estate. Throwing some kind of welcome party and they wanted entertainment. No sex involved, but since we really need anything we can get, you might as well go. Something about the whole thing being an effort to improve the perception of free Emberborn as hard workers.”

“That doesn't seem very normal. Most would want us in the gutter or back in chains,” Leira spoke, voicing her suspicion.

“True, but there are exceptions,” Emma stated, nodding towards Liddy.

“Yes, but just to hedge our bets, Foxy is going armed. Protective detail, not entertainment. Just in case. You get payment after the party. Since there is no sex contracted, you can accept it on site.”

“Will things be okay here?” Easy asked, obviously concerned about Mari.

“As well as they are now. If she needs you, you should be back tonight.”

Easy nodded and the rest of them had no further questions. Liddy handed Foxy the slip of paper with the address and directions on it. She gathered up her rifle and the four of them headed out. Liddy sighed, wishing the mood wasn't so dour. She looked over at Inky who was talking with the soldier waiting for his brother. Her expression was stone cold and detached. Liddy decided that now would be the best time to sneak off to her room and give herself time to cry, now that nobody on board could hear her.

Outside, the four Emberborn made their way across town, drawing all eyes on them. It wasn't often people saw Emberborn walking so openly, let alone one holding a rifle. Reaching the edge of town they spotted a waggon where several Emberborn were climbing aboard. Most dressed in poor cloth and a few only in rags. They all paused when the finely dressed women arrived.

“You all headed to that work project?” Easy asked politely.

“Yeah. What's that got to do with you? Doesn't exactly look like you need any help getting by.” A hound wearing rags spoke in a tone that hovered between insult and neutrality.

“Doesn't matter what we wear, things get tough for all of us,” Leira replied.

He shrugged and turned away while the others climbed on. The girls did the same, and soon enough the waggon started moving. Foxy was used to there being some resentment from other Emberborn over how much easier things appeared to be for her but Emma couldn't fathom it. To her, she was just a short while from being just as dirty and desperate as they were. To her, they were all as looked down and spat upon, but they saw her as privileged. Ashamed of her pretty dress, she looked away and met eyes with Easy, who gave her a soft smile. Not really feeling better, she took her hand and tried not to think about it.

***

The mood in the trenches was low. Most were injured, or at the very least suffering the grief of loss. They ate their food in silence and even the enemy seemed quiet. Hannah wondered if that was because so many of them were dead now. The men perked up when she had shown her face, relieved she hadn't died in the night. Yet nobody was in the mood for her normal morale boost, not even her. She sat down and sang instead.

I just wanted to thank you

Thank you not for the things you have done

For the things you have lost

From the past and from the future

For the friends not coming home

Lost time with those you love

Scars that will show forever

Long letters of nothing and everything

The fear of the march to war

The fear of the fire around you

The fear of returning home

The fear of leaving yourself behind

Memories that haunt your nights

Impossible choices you made

Shielding us from having to make them

The freedom your suffering gave me

Thank you for your sacrifice

Hannah knew it wasn't the most lyrically cohesive song in the world, but really a collection of things she had wished someone had said to her.

***

Getting off the waggon, the girls looked at the rundown estate. It clearly needed a lot of work, and several men sat with papers and books at a table appraising it. They turned to notice the group, and were of course distracted by the presence of the four women dressed in finery. Walking inside through thick wooden doors, they could tell work had already started. Scaffolding covered in sheets to disguise them were set up along the walls around the large entryway. It was almost a hall, given how much room there was to fill it, with seats and tables full of food.

The others from the waggon went right to eat while Easy found some handsome-looking men to flirt with. Everyone was an Emberborn except the waiters who dispensed drinks. In expensive uniforms that looked vaguely military, they smiled as they took drink orders and answered questions. Emma took Leira into the crowd to start their work while Foxy heard someone approach the balcony overlooking the party.

“Welcome, everyone! I hope you are enjoying the drinks and food. I know you aren't used to this and are eager to take advantage, but please, don't make yourselves sick.” He smiled in a friendly tone. “You may have noticed the state of this place, I hope that after tonight you agree to help me make something wonderful out of it. Not that you care about what status I gain, but people need to know you are capable of honest labour and deserving of honest wages. I will personally sign a writ of worthiness for any of you who complete their work here. With that, you will have an easier time finding work later in life. I know it's not much, but I believe you are worth the effort. Enjoy! Work begins tomorrow!”

Everyone returned to their feast. Foxy clicked off her rifle's safety.

“Lock the doors, hit them with the gas.” she heard the man say in a hushed tone to someone else as he walked away.

Not that she was the only one with ears so sensitive, but she was being paid to be paranoid and not to be distracted. She spun around to see two men standing at the doors waiting to receive orders to close them. Foxy shouldered her rifle as she took a knee and fired. The bullet took off a chunk of his upper skull and he dropped. His friend moved behind his door and started to push it closed. She fired again hoping to hit him through the door but the wood was too thick to penetrate. It slammed shut as she took off to the other door that someone else had gotten behind and started to close it. Kicking it at a run, it stalled its movement a moment, but a pistol reached in and fired at her. She ducked to avoid it but that gave the other door time to close. The iron bolt locked, and she could hear a bar being locked into place on the outside.

A sudden hiss of pressure started, and Foxy could see the sheets covering the scaffolding start to blow outwards. She fired at any windows she could find to help ventilate the room. People started falling over, and she fumbled with the magazine on her rifle. It was almost loaded when she doubled over and went to sleep.

***

Hannah didn't like the noise. It was loud and industrial. Whatever was going on in the enemy trench was not normal. They could see the bright light from welding tools shine, and sparks flying whenever a grinder was heard. Something was up.

“What are they building?” Grey asked.

“Nothing defensive. We haven't attacked their lines and can't shoot at them with the big guns,” Hannah replied.

“Best guess?”

Hannah pondered a moment, wondering what they could be up to. Her hand reached up to rub her stitches, and then she yanked it back down to avoid irritating it. The wound was frustrating her. Sudden movements still hurt, so getting laid the way she liked was off the table. She didn't like dealing with problems like a regular person.

“Whatever it is, it's big. Whatever it does, will be done right where it is or right in front of it. So we don't want to be here when it gets here.”

“True, but we can't fall back and we can't leave a gap in the line. Aside from being treasonous, it's just bad tactics. If you want to head off, you are the only one who can get away with it.”

“Ignoring that it would be just as dangerous to run as to stay, I am not leaving you here to fend for yourselves.” Hannah smiled her most confidence-inspiring smile.

“Appreciated. So then where else can we move?”

“Forward.”

“Attack their trenches? They got machine guns of their own. Sure the sun will be in their eyes, but we won't make it much beyond the craters their mortars made in the last few hours.”

“Then that's how far we go. They fired those things to find the range they needed. In the night, we get up and over, then crawl into them. No noise, nothing shines, and we wait. Gives us cover from their guns but gets us out of the trench where we know they will be firing. Keep the space directly in front of their construction clear in case it's some kind of weapon. Extra socks on the rifles to keep the mud out, and nobody moves till one of us blows the whistle. They use it, then once we know what it is, we decide if we go forward, back, or hold our ground.”

“Everyone should carry some demo charges and grenades. If we have to take their trench and blow up whatever they made, it's up to whoever survives the attempt.” Grey emphasised the grim assessment.

“Agreed. Let everyone know the plan and pick the holes they want to crawl into.” Hannah turned to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“To find someone hungry.”

Hannah never did get his name, but found his tongue to have much better uses than talking. Sitting in the chair of her quarters with her naked legs over the arms as she watched the head between them moving with purpose. Soft moans filled the air, with sudden gasps of surprise to punctuate the importance of what his tongue found. He was teasing her, not focusing on what she wanted, just little bits to drive her wild. Her head felt better. The Leftenant was still rocking back and forth on the floor now over by the bed, but kept glancing over at her.

She lost focus on him when finally feeling the release of orgasm, but knew full well it was just a prelude of pleasure. He was still frustrating her body slowly, starting to use a finger to help. Not wanting to wait, Hannah opened her jacket to expose her breasts and began to pull and yank at her own nipples. She was seldom as rough as Mari usually was, but still loved the pain and pleasure mixture. Both of their efforts yielded her desired result as she was able to finally get the climax that satisfied her. Keeping up his efforts while she endured the crashing wave of pleasure, he only broke off when she started to relax and catch her breath.

“Isn't that cheating?” he asked with a silly grin on his face.

“Maybe, we can have a rematch another time.”

“Count on it.”

Hannah redressed fully and got ready to spend the night in a muddy shell crater. Helmets were put in sacks to hide their shine and keep them from making noise from the movement. Nothing metal saw the night sky as they slithered, one at a time, over the lip. A few of the wounded who couldn't come with them stayed behind and talked loudly and often to make things seem casual and the trench occupied. Things, in order to maintain stealth, were slow and steady, but the construction noise from the enemy trenches was loud enough to have covered a marching brass band. Hannah took the left side of the gap they were leaving while Grey took the right side. While rain hadn't been a particular issue the last few days, the craters were cold, dark, and miserable.

Hannah gave a stern look at a soldier as he muttered a curse while tumbling into the crater with her. He got the message, and very quietly began positioning himself properly to make room for the next man. As the night went on, four men were with her, all huddled together for warmth. She smiled, watching one soldier facing away from her, feeling his hand up and down the leg of the man next to him. Tapping him on the shoulder, she shot him a quizzical look. Realising his mistake, he withdrew his hand quickly and silently lamented his embarrassing action. The other man turned around to look between the two of them and realised he wasn't next to her after all. Hannah smiled as the two men lay embarrassed in the dark.

The man behind her reached over and started grabbing her breast. Hannah looked to see a man concentrating hard before finally nodding at his conclusion that he was indeed fondling a woman. The fourth man behind him grabbed him by the chest and gave a disappointed head shake when he concluded it was a man. So the five of them sat in the dark trying to keep quiet as the silent jokes went on through the night.

It was an hour before dawn when the noise in the enemy trench died down to an eerie silence.

Something was coming and Hannah could feel it. She gave hand gestures to remove the socks from their rifles so they could use them, but it was lost on the soldiers who started to undo their trousers. Hannah smacked the closest man on the head and pointed at his rifle. He looked quizzically at it before reaching a sudden realisation, an act mimicked by the other men. She rolled her eyes at them and watched as they readied their weapons of war instead of their cocks.

As daylight crept over the battlefield, a whistle sounded in the distance. Yet it wasn't one like she had hanging around her neck. This was a steam whistle. Hannah moved up to where she had positioned the periscope, on an angle to make it look like battlefield debris, and peered through.

She didn't have to wait long before large metal pillars with joints rose up and out of the trench before its ends went back down. Six metal arches were all that was visible outside of the trench for a few moments, when suddenly they moved again. All six worked to lift something between them. A large metal section, looking like three metal boxes welded together, rose up with the metal pillars attached to the central section. It was obviously an ember steam engine in the middle section. In front of it was a smaller box that had vision slits on its forward-facing side. Behind it was a larger box with no visible features other than the rivets holding it together.

As the metal pillars started to lift again, Hannah realised the pillars were actually legs. That the construct was walking and doing so towards their trench. Just as it started to move, the sound of mortars falling came from the sky, and explosions detonated inside and around their trench. Dirt and debris rained down upon them in the craters, but they were far safer than they would have been in the trenches.

The metal spider trudged over the terrain and made its way through no man's land. Under its chin was a pair of long tubes - a flickering flame from one, and the other looking much like one of the machine guns Hannah had seen.

Terrified of what the spider could do, Hannah watched and waited, hoping it wouldn't notice any of them. The mortars stopped as it fired bullets from its chin. It stood in the middle of the gap Hannah had left in the line. It strafed the almost deserted trenches with lead, receiving a few shots in return that made sharp, high-pitched noises as they bounced off. Then it lowered itself close to the ground, and flame spewed out from the other nozzle as it turned its head back and forth to fill the trench with flame. Screams could be heard from the wounded who had remained to maintain their presence.

Then Hannah heard a whistle, but not from Grey as her first reaction was to assume. It came from the enemy trenches, and a wall of infantry rose up to come over the top. They charged over the mud, hollering in glee at the devastating effect their new weapon had. When Hannah was sure they had come too far to fall back quickly, she blew her own whistle, telling everyone to hold their ground. Then, the men next to her and the others down the line rose up to the edge of their craters and began to rain fire down upon their attackers. Soon, machine gunners, who had needed some time to deploy, joined in blunting the attack with a wall of lead.

Meanwhile, Hannah had turned her attention to the metal monster beside her. It was taking some tentative steps over the burning trenches when Hannah had blown the whistle, and it stopped at the sudden sound of battle going on behind it. As it manoeuvred backwards and started to turn around, Hannah dashed out of her cover leaving her rifle behind. She yanked a grenade from her belt, the explosive at the end of a stick to help throw it, and ran up to the rear compartment. There was a wheel on one side and a short ladder on the other. Grasping onto the ladder after a leap up, Hannah hung on with one hand as it rose up high. She rapped the grenade on the door as she pulled herself up and soon saw the wheel spinning. A pistol came out first, before it opened wide enough to reveal a man hunched over. By then Hannah had triggered the fuse and looked to see the pistol aimed at her head, but the eyes of the man holding it stared in surprise at her chest. Even covered, her breasts were distracting enough and she chucked the grenade at his face.

Clutching at his suddenly broken nose, he actually held onto the grenade as he moved away from the door. Hannah reached over and slammed the door shut. Then, swung herself to catch the wheel and turn it a bit to close. Not bothering to stick around and seal it all the way, Hannah let go and fell to the ground. Hard dirt would have hurt a lot more than the soft mud did, and Hannah hit it at the same time the grenade went off.

The deep ‘krump’ of the explosion contained in the metal box was followed soon after by a much larger bang as other explosives, carried by the soldiers in the rear compartment, blew the back door off.

As Hannah regained her footing and tried to move away, a few body parts fell out around her, charred and mangled, landing in the mud.

Unfortunately for her, the spider was still moving, though a bit off balance from the explosion. Turning to look at it, she could see it trying to move and face her as to spray the flamethrower at close range. Her own trench, still on fire, and the craters nearby offering no cover from such a weapon, Hannah knew her best bet was to stay under it and hope nobody with a gun tried to shoot her. That's when a flashing light caught her eye. Somewhere behind her trenches, someone was holding a mirror to the sunlight and as Hannah found them, she saw the mobile field gun he was next to. Three of them were being set up to fire upon the spider but anything less than a direct hit could kill her or her troops. She realised there was no safe place to be. Looking away she could see the blunted enemy attack retreating. Hannah blew the whistle. She gave the order to attack.

Running back to pick up her rifle, the whistle got the rest of the troops moving forward and focusing on the gap made by the spider. What wire and obstacles had been in the way were now crushed, destroyed, or simply made easier to avoid. No fire was directed at them from the enemy trenches. Ever since the conflict began, there were no offensive attacks made by the infantry who were ordered only to defend. Those who had fled thought they were safe once they got back to their trenches. Only once the spider had turned around and fired its machine gun did anyone fall. Hannah saw the man next to her run for seven more steps after three rounds went through his back. Others outside her vision also fell. A loud explosion behind her shook the ground, but she could still hear the metal spider, clanking around, but at least it had stopped firing.

Going over the lip of the trench, Hannah held her rifle aimed downwards and fired at the first figure she could see. He hadn't even been facing her. Unable to work the bolt action while running and jumping, she landed in the trench, burying her bayonet in the man who had been trying to light a smoke with shaky hands. More of her troops piled in behind her and quickly got organised enough to sweep forward.

Hannah paused to examine the weapon on the lap of the man she had stabbed. A squat barrel much wider than her rifle, with a round drum attached in front of the trigger. She had seen trench guns before, stubby guns that fired scattershot, but nothing so robust with a fat magazine like that. Picking it up she fired a test shot into the sandbag wall and found the deep boom to be pleasing. She snagged the two extra ammo drums he had been carrying as reloads and set off, handing her rifle to one of her troops who had lost his. Moving through the butcher's shop the trench had become. Hannah rounded corners carefully, to punch deeper into the trenchworks. Past the very front line was the area where the spider had risen from. Grey was already blowing the ‘rally’ whistle, having entered a moment sooner from another access trench.

Grey directed the troops to cover any approaches as Hannah examined the scene. Welding tools, rivets, hammers, and protective gear were everywhere, but Hannah was more interested in a doorway to a dugout. Trench Gun leading the way instead of a grenade because she expected something valuable to be inside. Two more loud explosions from her home trench preceded her entry, and she hoped that they had hit something. Inside was a rack of rolled-up papers, a desk with mechanical diagrams, a chair, and a middle-aged man trying to stuff himself in a steamer trunk too full of clothing to admit him. Hannah hauled him out and threw him into the arms of the two men who had followed her in.

“Convince me you are important enough to keep alive,” Hannah challenged the man.

“I… I am the genius that made the ultimate weapon. Spider bot!” His fake courage amused Hannah.

Another loud boom outside was followed soon by some cheering, and a soldier poked his head into the dugout, “Metal spider just got fucked up by some arty, Ma’am.” The head withdrew after giving the happy news.

An awkward pause followed as Hannah cocked an eyebrow at the man, who suddenly felt more confused than anything else.

“While you process that,” Hannah turned to the soldier on the right who was holding him. “Bring men in here one at a time. I got a plan.”

“Ma’am…” he hesitated. “Do we really want to spend that much time in here?”

Hannah saw his eyes moving over her body. “Not for that, you dunce. Everyone stuffs one of these papers into their jacket. That way not everything depends on one person getting back to the line.”

Bringing soldiers in one at a time, giving them a short rest from holding off the enemy trying to retake their trench, Hannah filled their jackets with the documents and papers. Once finished, she turned back to the slumped over man on the floor.

“Now, where is your personal journal? The thing you keep all your secrets and ideas. I know you have it. Point it out, or I start taking fingers until you can only point with stumps.”

“You wouldn’t d…”

Hannah grabbed his hand, forced a finger in the barrel of the Trench Gun, and fired. The loud blast amputated the finger and shocked his ears. Starting to put another finger in the barrel Hannah stopped when his screaming turned into directions to look under the steamer trunk. Kicking it over, a soldier retrieved the book. Hannah left the man and took the book, stuffing it into her jacket, and nodding for the soldier to dress his wound. Leaving the dugout with the prisoner in tow, Hannah nodded at the man holding a bag of explosives who seemed to be waiting for permission to rig the dugout. Other soldiers were planting bombs with the equipment and tools as they all prepared to leave.

“Our trenches are mostly 'not' burning now. Since the enemy finally figured out we were in here with them, they have been giving us a hard time,” Grey informed Hannah.

“Agreed. Let's move back to the firestep and get ready to run.”

Pulling back and setting fuses, they left the assembly pit behind and got to the fire step. The occasional burst of machine gun fire indicated their own guns were still in place, keeping the enemy from coming over the top to flank them. Not wanting any of her men to kill their own, Hannah took off her cap to let her hair blow in the wind as she crested the trench. Unsurprisingly, she was noticed immediately, as it was doubtful the enemy had their own red-haired firebrand. Soon after the rest of their surviving numbers came over, they began the dash back to their lines.

Not a moment after they had left did the eruption of the assembly pit shake the ground and kick up enough smoke and dirt to cover their retreat. Unable to fire, her own machine guns began to fall back, and went to set up their original positions in the trenches.

Hannah saw the wreckage of the metal spider, twisted and broken, lying in the mud. The arty gunners remained where they had been, from what she could see through the smoke. Turning to taunt the prisoner, she smiled at him in time for it to be the last thing he saw as bullets struck him from behind. Tumbling over dead, his soldier escort quickly decided to leave him before being shot themselves.

More fire erupted behind them as they finally reached their burnt-out trenches. Landing hard, Hannah rolled over to aim at the enemy she expected to be following her. Her own troops landed first but she remained, waiting. The rapid firing of her own guns resumed, and she knew whoever was going to make it had made it. Keeping her aim up, Hannah slowly got to her knees when she pulled the trigger on reflex and made sure the white figure landed dead when he jumped into the trench.

More and more came over, and she relished the automatic chambering of the next shell as she fired. Not having to manually work the action saved her life, as she fired both directions down the trench at the attacking troops as well as above her when she had to. Knowing she couldn't last long alone, she ran and fired to get farther back where some of her own troops would hopefully be. Getting to a corner, the gun clicked empty and she knew she wouldn't have time to reload. Though as the soldier aimed his rifle she knew she wouldn't have time to draw her pistol either. Too far to get to grips with him, she didn't have an option that would save her life. Suddenly his head cocked to the side as blood erupted from it.

A moment after he hit the ground, Hannah saw a man holding a pistol wearing the clean crisp blue of a leftenant's uniform. The shock and fear gone from his eyes. Now replaced with grief and determination to atone for his failures.

“With respects, my dear. I would like my command back if you would be so kind. It’s about time I actually did something with it,” he said, with the voice of a man finally finding his courage.

“I formally surrender command to you at this time,” Hannah replied, trying to learn how to reload her weapon with a new drum of ammo.

“Thank you.” Leaving pleasantries for later, he fired at enemies behind Hannah as she finally got her weapon ready.

They moved back through the trench that Hannah had been fleeing down, and with the stream of enemy reinforcements ending, those stuck in with them didn't last long at all. It became clear, soon enough, that the reason they had stopped was the presence of fresh allied troops moving in and sending them on their way. Hannah found Grey saluting one of the soldiers as he passed, and looked quite surprised to see who she was with.

“Sir,” Grey acknowledged. “Feeling better?”

“Yes. Thank you. I owe you both for keeping things together.” he replied.

“What happened?” Grey asked. “I mean, what changed or…” He couldn't quite find the right question to ask.

“Well, having someone tell me I wasn't in command anymore helped. And having to listen to a woman getting pleasured constantly did a lot to distract me.” He glanced at Hannah, who looked away in false modesty. “Then there was that song… and I just started putting the pieces back together. I'm not fixed. Won't ever be. But at least now I can try and make the most of what I have left and hope it's enough.”

Hannah spoke up. “Nobody is ever the same after anything like this. It’s the worst I have ever been through.”

“How will you deal with it?”

“Well, I did notice the large number of reinforcements we just got. I’m going to fuck them.” One of the passing soldiers stopped in his tracks to stare at her, and Hannah grabbed him by the jacket to bring him someplace private. “You two might need to find your own solutions.”