Building a Viking Empire with Modern Industry-Chapter 140: Welcome to the Iron Gear!

Rain poured down upon the industrial tracks of the West Coast Line, turning the gravel embankments into grey sludge.

At the moment, an army of West Saxons was on the march.. or rather, trudging unhappily through the mud.

At the head of the military was an Ealdorman named Aethelred, who was quite upset about his current task.

For the most part, he and the men of his army were practical men who appreciated good tools, and King Aethelwulf had tasked them to invade the heartland of the Industrial Revolution.

Not only was City Titan an important source of cheap wool and clean water for the common folk, but it also housed the Tomb of the Unknown Contractor.

As such, very few men in the army were eager to fulfill this task.

On more than one occasion, Ealdorman Aethelred had considered outright insubordination.

Yet, here he was at the borders between Wessex and the Directorate, debating whether or not he should go through with his orders.

However, the closer his troops approached the border town of Crewe, the more they were able to notice that a fortress was constructed in the area, one whose design was unlike anything Aethelred had ever seen before.

It wasn’t a castle with high stone walls. It was a low, squat complex of reinforced concrete and earthworks, shaped like a pentagon, flying the Iron Gear flag. It was a "Station Fortress" constructed by Ragnar to protect the logistical routes into his lands.

Aethelred decided to halt his advance when faced with such a mighty obstacle, which was visibly defended by relatively massive Steam Cannons and hundreds of men armed with what he perceived to be repeating crossbows.

He was no fool, and he could tell by the geometric perfection of the kill zones that if he were to attempt to take it over, it would be a long and expensive battle.

When faced with such a challenge, Aethelred only had three options.

First, he could withdraw and find another route.. perhaps through the marshes, which nobody wanted.

Second, he could disregard his losses and attack the fortress in an attempt to force his way to the coal mines.

His third and final option was to give up on the idea of attacking, set up camp on the edge of the rail line, and act like he was doing something, hoping that King Aethelwulf would not realize he had sat still and done nothing.

After all, neither he nor his men were too keen on the idea of attacking the people who sold them their plowshares.

Ealdorman Aethelred took a few moments to contemplate his options when one of his Thanes approached him.

"My Lord, the path forward is blocked by the... thing. I fear it will be a difficult task to audit their defenses."

Aethelred immediately felt a headache looking at the situation before him. If he did not advance, he would be labeled a coward. If he did, he would be dead. As such, he mustered his courage and ordered the Army to advance on the fortress.

"Prepare to lay siege! We have our orders!"

While giving out the command to his army, Aethelred told himself in the back of his mind: May the Saints protect my pension.

As such, a siege camp was prepared, and within a few hours of preparations, the West Saxon army began to attack the Station Fortress.

Men-at-arms rushed towards the concrete curtains, hoping that the solid portion of the wall would provide a steady platform to raise their ladders.

However, the moment they came within engagement distance, the several hundred "Iron Gear" contractors garrisoned at the fort unleashed the "Spicy Mix" Mortars.

The explosive shells tore the besiegers asunder long before they made it to the wall section.

Limbs were hewn from the victims of the blast, and mud splattered across the railway tracks. Yet this did not stop the repeating crossbows mounted on the fortress walls from firing in the direction of the invaders.

Though the defenders only numbered in the hundreds, the fortress was so well designed that even with their standard-issue gear, they were capable of causing massive depreciation to the enemy assets.

By the time the third volley of mortar fire went off, the besiegers had fled back to their siege camp, which was well within the range of the heavier artillery.

However, the defenders did not attack the encampment. Instead, they halted their fire and allowed the enemy to retreat.

The goal was not to annihilate the enemy force as quickly as possible; if they did such a thing, King Aethelwulf would take one of two actions: he would either abandon the Midlands altogether until he had successfully taken the rest of England, or he would send a massive invasion far more significant than the current force in retaliation.

Neither of which was appealing to Ragnar.

As such, the young Director had tasked his Regional Managers to wage a war of attrition.

If Ragnar’s forces could keep these tens of thousands of men bogged down outside their borders indefinitely, King Aethelwulf would surely continue to send reinforcements and supplies to ensure the offensive continued.

This would significantly weaken his treasury and divide his armies, allowing the other kingdoms a decent chance to fight back.

However, Ealdorman Aethelred had no way of knowing Ragnar’s business plan and was simply in awe of the weapons that his opponents fielded.

Thus he stood with his mouth agape after watching his army collapse so quickly against the mighty Station Fortress.

The man was so shocked by the disastrous result of the brief engagement that he accidentally voiced his thoughts aloud for all the nearby men to hear.

"The Devil is on their side, for how can man build such efficient machines without infernal blueprints?"

These words weakened the already low morale of the troops, many of whom secretly owned Directorate-made tools and had no desire to attack the factory.

After saying these words, one of the Thanes under Aethelred voiced his concerns.

"If the Devil is on their side, my Lord... then how do we fulfill our quota?"

It was only at this moment that Aethelred realized he had spoken his thoughts aloud, and as such, quickly came up with a scheme to avoid further conflict while making it seem like he was actively participating in the hostile takeover.

"Write to King Aethelwulf. Tell him the tracks are blocked by... ’sorcerous fortifications.’ Tell him we need heavier equipment if we are to achieve our objective.

He will either send us aid, which will give us a period of reprieve, or he will ignore our pleas, and we will have our justification to sit back and do nothing."

Hearing their liege’s orders, the Thanes all agreed that it was the best course of action and immediately set to task.

As for the defenders in the fortress, not a single contractor was wounded in the conflict, and as such, they were sitting back and relaxing in the heated breakroom; after all, they had access to plenty of canned rations and fresh coffee.

Theoretically, they could stay and guard the border indefinitely.

While the besiegers lived in an exposed and muddy siege camp, the defenders stayed in concrete bunkers to shelter them from the elements, which allowed them a sense of comfort as they guarded the assets of the Directorate.

...

Meanwhile, in City Titan

Ragnar sat in his office, reading the telegraph strip from the Crewe Station Fortress. Gyda was organizing the files for the new Naval Department.

"The West Saxons are stalled," Ragnar noted, taking a sip from his skull mug. "They are sending letters home instead of storming the walls."

"Just as predicted," Gyda replied, not looking up. "The attrition rate will bankrupt their logistics within three months."

Ragnar stood up and walked to the large map on the wall. He placed a black pin on Crewe.

"The border holds. Now, we turn our attention to the sea."

Ragnar tapped the pin marking Edinburgh.

"Are you going personally?" Gyda asked.

"I have to," Ragnar said, grabbing his silver cane. "The King of Scots is a stubborn man. He won’t sign the coal rights over to a subordinate."

Ragnar walked to the door, pausing to look back at his wife.

"Hold the fort, Gyda. If the Pope sends another letter... send it back with a bill for the paper."

Gyda smirked. "Understood, Director. Travel safely."