This post was inspired by the latest Invitational writing prompt in the Scholar and Scribe Community - S&S Invitational: Winter Edition
The prompt called for themes of winter and sci-fi - hopefully you'll like what I've done !
All images in this post created by AI in Nightcafe Studio
Three tracked war machines ground their way across the rust-red snow of the scree slope at the base of Mount Tuonela.
Their wide tracks prevented them from sinking into the powdery snow, but the jagged gravel-like rocks beneath shifted under their weight so that they moved crab-like and slowly across the mountainside.
Overhead, the brown dwarf star Tuonetar was a cold dot in the sky shining with a dim red, almost copper brown light and giving out little warmth. The faint crescents of Surma and Tursas, twin moons, cupped the star like a shackle.
~Unit GH6524d-C you are falling behind. Increase velocity. Increased track imprints and slippage are an acceptable consequence.~
The machines didn't talk to each other, of course. At this short range they used modulated low-power lasers. Avoiding use of the electromagnetic spectrum was second-nature to them, although the attempt to avoid detection was guaranteed to fail. Six scars laid by their tracks across the snow saw to that.
~ Unit GH6524d-B detectors indicate a non-functional captive lifeform. It fails to meet our objective. Reduce mass accordingly.~
The second machine didn't slow down as a hatch at the rear popped open. Some kind of articulated servo arm emerged. It was clutching a rigid form, which it dropped as soon as the body (for that is what it was) cleared the hull.
The body fell some twenty feet onto the snow. Frozen solid, it shattered as it hit the ground. There was no appreciable improvement in the speed of the machine as it slogged across the shifting terrain.
An hour later, a dozen speeding turbosleds came to the shattered icicle in the snow, coming to a sharp halt in a cloud of glittering frozen crystals.
"What's that ?" a man's voice, distorted behind a mask and goggles.
"It's Saira Kahlenna. What's left of her. Frozen."
From the rear of the group, a cut-off sob was heard. Ruri Kahlenna. Saira's husband.
"Go, Ruri. Take her home," the leader's voice was soft, sympathetic.
Ruri's response was harsh and bitter. "She'll still be here when we're done. I want to be there when we bring those soulless Einheriar down."
Another man chimed in, asking the leader, "They are three Einheriar war machines. We're two dozen men on turbosleds with hunting rifles. How can we possibly get our families back with those odds ?"
The leader's tone was one of determination. "I've got an idea. And an EMP Field Generator."
The inside of Unit GH6524d-B was a black, frigid box. Not that the dozen captives shivering inside knew that was the designation, only that they'd been kidnapped by some kind of machine, dragged from the safety of their shattered domes in the dead of night.
"Mommy..."
A whimper. A child's voice.
One of the women could be heard moving around, finding the child. "Sleep, Rita. Go to sleep."
Then she whispered to a neighbour. "They dragged Saira out of her dome without her heatsuit. Bastard machines."
Then the steady, crunching sound of the tracks and the regular buzz of the motor changed pitch. They became irregular. Still going forward, but lurching and straining.
Outside, Njarn Huivela looked down from the ridge at the three struggling machines below with a grim smile, tuning the dial on his EMP field generator to increase it's effect. The Einheriar slowly came to a reluctant halt.
Ruri Kahlenna yanked the cocking lever on his heavy sheller back savagely. "Ready when you are."
Shaking his head, Njarn spoke softly. "We're not going in. Not yet. They'd kill the hostages, and anyway I've disabled their motors and communication systems. I can't disable their guns. I told you I had a plan. I'm going to talk to them."
Even through the fogged up goggles and mask, Ruri's expression of utter incredulity was obvious. "You're mad. Everyone knows you can't talk to Einheriar. They're just machines, they'll kill you."
"No, Ruri. We're going to destroy them, but we have to try to get our people back. I fought these machines when I was in the fleet, and I think they have a weakness we can exploit. I'm going down. Here's a flare; fire it off if I fail."
Shouldering his hunting rifle, Njarn stuck a white handkerchief on the antenna of his currently useless long range communicator. He hoped that the machines would recognise the symbol that was so often used to signal a truce.
Njarn started trudging towards the disabled metal monsters. Two had heavy weapons fitted, the third was a box on tracks with only lighter armament. It was hard to make out, but he thought he could see all the weapons adjusting slightly, tracking his progress while faint flickering lasers flashed messages from machine to machine.
But they didn't open fire on him. He counted that as a victory of sorts. Finally, he was in shouting range.
"Einheriar machines, I want to negotiate."
Another flash of laser-light back and forth. Then the largest of the machines spoke. The voice was deep, artificial, and sounded like the machine behind it was unused to using voice communication. It was also broken by short bursts of fizzing static. The EMP generator was doing it's work well.
"Einheriar do not negotiate. You will put down your weapon and join other subjects in GH6524d-B"
"Then don't negotiate. I will talk with you instead." Njarn was cunning. He didn't tell them he wouldn't obey their order, for he knew defiance would lead to a swift death. He just ignored it.
He continued, shouting so that his voice overcame the distance and the ever-present howling of the freezing wind.
"Your mission is over. You have failed. We will destroy you. So I offer you a trade. Before you are destroyed, release your captives. In return I will drop the EMP field. Just for the few seconds needed to allow you to transmit a full mission report to your control. Only after will you be destroyed."
Amazingly, this shocked the battered war machine into a silence that lasted a full ten seconds.
Snowflakes fell, brown in the dim starlight, as the time stretched to eternity. Njarn waited for a reply, or for death.
"How do we know you mean this ? Organics are known to lie."
"Not this organic. We're Imperial colonists. We're tough and we keep our word. You can include that in your report. I know you're programmed to let your control know what happened to you, you'll do anything for that."
Finally the reply came. Two simple words, spoken by an artificial intelligence that had never communicated with a living creature before.
"We accept"
Without further warning, the hatch in the back of the box-like Einheriar popped open and the captives came tumbling out. He knew Saira was gone, but all the others were there and safely in their heatsuits. Most especially the four children. It was a miracle.
He gathered them up and led them off as fast as he could towards the ridge, signalling Ruri to drop the EMP field for the agreed few seconds.
From the lead machine, he could see a great antenna spring up. It flashed once, sending it's condensed report across space at an instantaneous pace. Then the machines all dropped their gun barrels, waiting for their fate as the EMP field came back online again.
Njarn reached into his pocket and pulled out a flare. On any other world it would be a bright cyan blue. Here on New Pohjola under the light of a dying star, it was a strange violet colour, lighting up the start of a growing blizzard.
High above, the Imperial light cruiser The Ashes of Bellagor saw the flare. Captain Mirian turned to his gunnery officer.
"It's the signal. Commence orbital bombardment, narrow spread. Kill those tanks."
The Einheriar machines melted in the plasma beams descending from the heavens, the fiery light illuminating a dozen reunions on the snow-clad mountainside nearby.
For once, the snow was white. The captives were safe. It was a winter miracle, although a bittersweet one.