The Industrial Corps stood in their grid formation, a grey block of discipline amidst the chaos of the battlefield. The front line of Huscarls knelt, bracing the butts of their twelve-foot ash pikes against the earth. Behind them, the "Range Department" composed of Tech-Thralls and Broken Men worked the levers of their machines.
Fifty Torsion Spikes fired in unison. The "Broom" canisters disintegrated mid-air, turning into a cloud of shrapnel that shredded the oncoming Danish wedge.
The Danish armor was designed to stop a swinging sword. It was useless against high-velocity scrap metal moving at terminal velocity.
"Reload!" Leif the Lesser screamed, his voice cracking with the strain. "Maintain the cycle! Ten seconds!"
As the Tech-Thralls furiously cranked the winches, the Huscarls in the front row tightened their grip on the pikes. They were the "Aegis." Their job was to ensure the machine kept running.
