Darian was grilling fish for dinner at Dragon Lake when the sky screamed, [HELP!]
Darian jumped. [Sky…? No, wait. That voice… that’s… Mindy?!]
[Song Chen? Song Chen, is that you?!]
Darian’s face fell. [No. Sorry, wrong mind. Bye.]
[No, wait! Darian! It’s Darian, isn’t it? Help us!]
[Sorry, I’m busy right now, please try again later…]
[Talia’s in trouble! She needs help!] Mindy burst out. [She’s going to die!]
[Oh? Is she somewhere near Dragon Lake?] Darian blinked.
[She’s… she’s in the middle of the war, deep in the neutral zone between La Vive and Germat.]
Darian snorted. [Too far. Can’t get there in time. Please try someone else.]
[There is no one else! There has been no other response!]
[Of course not! How many people around here do you think has the kind of Psionic power to reach all the way to the Neutral Zone?! You’re lucky you even reached me! How DID you reach me? Not even the Lords of th
The skies above the clouds were in a state of perpetual tension. Over on the left, three Battle Galleons from Ashdale hovered surrounded by a formation of La Vive Strike Frigates in escort. Across untold miles of open space, angular Germat gunships completely covered in plates of iron armor roved by in patrol squads of four. Over on the other side was a massive mothership owned by the Ira Caliphate, a veritable island held up by clouds of golden silk balloons. Much closer by and a little behind them was a cluster of flying mountains, or at least what looked like such. “Flying Mountains Formation.” Phoebe recognized it. “That’s the trademark airship fleet of the Nine Mountains.” Only they would be nuts enough to fashion airships that looked like mountains on purpose. Mendev Zeppelins hovered in the distance. High above, a Libertaria Observation Balloon made a little speck against the backdrop of the endless blue sky. In the horizon were a pair of Sky Dragon airships from the Dragon
Three days of observation from the highlands plateau gave Phoebe and the others a rough idea of what was what. First of all, the closest combating forces to the plateau were the Bulrak and Bellas forces. The Bulraki had a huge lot of cavalry, a great many of which were heavy cavalry, including their famous Bull Riders. They trampled just about everything in their path. The Bellai, on the other hand, had fortified positions up and down the entire highland range where their plateau was at. Tall, sleek guard towers dotted the hills, armed with ballistas and crossbowmen. To be honest, Phoebe had expected the Bulraki to wipe out the Bellai in short order. The Bulraki were generally a physically strong people, if a bit coarse in culture. The Bellai, on the other hand, were people of a country that was basically founded by beauty. An old emperor was so enamored of a beauty that he offered her anything she wanted, even up to half his kingdom, in the similar fashion as an old legend. Who knew
Keeping an eye on the dust columns in the distance, Remian carefully made his way on the road, thinking to steer clear of Bulraki riders entirely. “Stop!” the voice calling him from the side was low and urgent. “Camp ahead!” “What?” Remian turned to see a young boy, very dirty and very worried waving at him from the bushes. “There is a Bulraki camp ahead! Don’t go that way!” he urged Remian. Survivors? “Who are you? Why are you out here on your own?” But the boy didn’t reply. He just turned around and ran. “Hey, wait…” Remian followed him. Meanwhile, he contacted Mindy. [Third checkpoint, hostiles suspected. Don’t come over yet.] [Understood. Shall we send backup?] [Stand by…] Remian huffled after the boy, carefully leaving a mark on a tree as he passed it. They went into the sparse woods, then around a hillock… “Freeze!” A long, rusted pike was suddenly pointed at him from the side. Remian turned to see a bigge
The second day, it was Sandra’s turn to scout ahead, and then later, Gammie’s. Mindy and Remian simply camped out and waited for their signals to move ahead, and then moved the Wasp farther along their route. In the meantime, he studied magic. Just before coming to the war zone, they had dropped off the families of the fallen magi from Ecclesia, Father Petrov, and Sir Ivan. Father Petrov started a recruitment desk at the academy for them with a slogan saying ‘Come to the Wildlands – We have Dragons!’. He also gave them access to the Church library, and pointed out the archaeological section pertaining to the Black Ruins… Remian brought back one particularly interesting little booklet from there entitled ‘The Black Ruins’ Different Magic System’. The first line on the first page was enough to convince him of the value of this booklet. It said, “According to the Black Ruins Civilization, the magic that we practice today only accounts for half of their system.”<
The next day, Remian once again took to the road. By now, they were already in the heart of the world war. All around them were thick columns of smoke; the sound of heavy artillery could be heard on every side. Remian avoided all the columns; each of them was clearly a military position, or else they wouldn’t have been fired upon. As long as he kept clear of any viable targets, he figured, he should avoid getting blasted by cannons. In any case, the fighting should have drifted farther to the west. Germat and Auria were pushing back the Ashdale and La Vive lines at a steady pace. Thinking back to the prices they offered for elemental metals just before the war, Remian wasn’t entirely surprised. It was clear that Germat had spent a premium in preparation for the conflict. In terms of combat ability, Ashdale boasted a lot of experience. Proven in the field over millennia against the likes of the Iron Legion, their military firing formations and drills were famo
She wasn’t far now. Remian could sense her getting closer and closer. Just over the next rise, he felt. Talia was coming to meet him partway on this dirt road. He glanced about. The area here was an open space, sparse brush and hard dirt on either side of the road heading north. Ahead was a crossroads with a signpost. On the right, Germat and Auria. On the left, Ashdale and La Vive. To the south, Itarim, and to the north, the sea known as the Dalish Channel. Talia was coming down this very road. Remian narrowed his eyes. Was that them? That little speck in the distance? [Talia?] Remian sent out a thought-burst. [Remian!] Talia lit up. Ahead, at the little speck, he saw movement. Someone was waving both arms frantically. [Over here!] [Talia!] Remian made a quick decision. [We need to find a place with more cover, enough for the Wasp. I don’t want to call the airship out here into the open.] [There’s no cover of that level on the north s
Remian and the others hunkered down in the pit and prayed for it all to be over soon so that they could go home quickly. To those prayers, God gave a clear and swift answer; it was a resounding ‘No!’ After an hour of waiting while the storm raged on, they began to hear hoofsteps. There was a lot of sploshing in the mud, and the sound of horses neighing in complaint, but somehow, despite the weather and the terrain, the Bulraki were pressing forward. There was a swish of leaves, and even more bushes were piled onto Remian’s position from above. With that, the hoofsteps began to clatter over the overturned cart, shoes upon wood… “They’re using the bushes to pave the way. That’s how they’re able to move in the mud.” Remian realized. “How long can the roof hold?” Talia asked, worriedly. “Earth.” Remian whispered, reinforcing the cart above with archways of hardened mud. “Stone.” He hardened the mud farther. “Extra hard!” Not satisfied with
“We’re going to be in trouble.” That was the conclusion Phoebe came up with upon hearing the scouts reports for the morning. Aurian forces were swarming all over the area. Surveyors were all over the highlands. Heavy construction machinery was starting to arrive one after the other at a new base site two hills away. Phoebe felt quite certain that Auria was intending to fortify these highlands, and the plateau where the Red Fang was sitting on was soon to be a building site. In a matter of hours, somebody, maybe one of those surveyors, was going to come up to the plateau and spot their airship. “What do we do? Do we fight or flee?” Alex asked. “We’re leaving.” Phoebe decided. “But not without our people. We’re going to pick them up.” “Is that even possible? They’re hours away even by airship, and there are soldiers all over the place.” Phoebe turned to a lynxmouse. “I need you guys to steal something.” “Squik?” [What is it?] “It
Somewhere along the line, he’d lost consciousness. George only realized it when he woke up to a splitting headache. “Ow.” He groaned. “What... where...?” “We’re on the way back to Sorrel.” Grace told him, appearing by his bedside. And it was a bedside, he realized. He seemed to be in the Kara’s Medical Bay. “I’m sorry. We had to retreat.” “Our... people?” George managed. “The HAC Troopers made it back. The Mechs... did not.” Grace paused. “We have the refugees though. And the Robotic Assembly Plant for Mining Drones. That’s all they managed to grab.” George slurred. “Mech pilots?” “Alive, if battered.” “Good. Alive is good.” George sighed. “This... didn’t go so well.” “Hey, at least we got the guys we were trying to save, and some machinery on top of that. You might say it was a success. A costly one, but a success.” “Casualties?” George asked. “Plenty of injuries to go around, but no deaths. So far.” Grace paused. “Some of the really badly injured might change that before lo
“Were these really the best you could do?” George asked, eyeing the six hulking figures in front of him hesitantly. “Mmm.” Juni grunted. In front of them were six brand new Mechs. 2nd Generation products, they were armored weapons platforms on legs, with jumpjets for the signature ‘jumps’ that earned their generation the nickname, ‘Jumpers’. Or were they? George wasn’t entirely sure. When he looked at them, they really looked more like 1st Generation Walker-types. Those Jump Jets seemed to be an afterthought, an added equipment haphazardly strapped to their backs. “Would they really work right?” Juni shrugged. Given the time and materials he had to work with, George supposed he couldn’t expect better. He had only just received 2nd Gen tech. Until now, he’d been working with 1st Gen expectations and schematics. One of these Mechs seemed a bit worn, evidence that it had been built quite some time ago, and only recently been modified for George’s requests. “Fusion Cell for power, Pu
It turned out that they also needed to acquire salvage rights to haul away ‘scrap metal’. Fortunately, that was a simple affair now that they had local currency. 50 USD and the matter was done. Grant, being the nearest specialist on matters of scrap to their location, graciously offered to transport their ‘scrap’ directly to their vessel out of sheer goodwill. Finally Benny and Sam went to try out the barbecued skewers. At Grant’s recommendation, though, they didn’t go to the Starport roadside stall. They ended up at another roadside stall run by a ‘foreign refugee’ someplace downtown not too far from Grant’s workshop. There, each skewer was loaded with rows of thick, juicy beef sausages, and only cost 20 USD for 10. Benny stretched. “Not bad for our first day. We’ve got three days here, don’t we? But we’ve already got half of what we wanted.” “What’s the other half?” Sam asked. “Technical manuals on engineering, power and propulsion. Tech, basically.” Benny yawned. However, whe
“Black Fang, you are cleared for docking. Follow the designated path and welcome to Trifer, colony of the Uber States.” Benny stood on the observation deck of the Black Fang below the bridge, listening to the conversation between the comms officer and the dock authorities. He eyed the massive sprawl of structures and smoke emitted below and wondered. “This is what they call a ‘small’ colony?” The colony was bigger than Craggy Falls, Kara-Goth and Nightshade City put together. “Just how many people live here?” Benny asked next. “According to our sensors, about half a million.” The bridge crew told him. Okay, that was less than the human population of the Sorrelian Migration, which, after including the Cumin survivors, was over 800,000. They shared the sensor feed with Benny, Sam and Foxy. Looking at the scope, Benny realized that most of the colony below consisted of machinery and robots. Furthermore, what he saw on the surface wasn’t even half the colony. The entire complex went
That evening, Benny and Sam left with Tim’s battle group, headed for the nearest Uber States outpost with medicine in the cargo holds. This left only one freight galleon to ferry materials and regretful space miners from the surface to Sky Haven. “It’s going too slow.” Remian decided. “I need to call Raven.” With Mindy busy trading across star systems, Raven had inherited (bought over) her airship fleet and company on the surface. They built more gunships and scout ships than freighters these days, mainly focused on providing recon and fire support to ground forces fighting Undead. But it was those freighters Remian needed now, the bigger the better. “We need them refitted for extreme high altitudes, as high as they can go.” Remian explained. “Also we need them spaceworthy, at least up to low orbit.” “You want our airship freighters to fly into space?!” Raven spluttered. “Yes, but not on their own. I want them to haul cargo and passengers as high up as they can. Around 30km woul
“Relax, I’m not asking you to build them from scratch. You’ll need to remodel a Galleon and a trio of our current Dropships. We do want proper Mech Carriers in the future, but for now, we need to deploy urgently, so we’ll just remodel what we have.” Ermine brought up some projections. “The Mechs in question are going to be Light Walkers, designed and built by J-Armory. Juni’s had a workable prototype for a long time, but it’s never been needed until now. Live testing is scheduled to start in three days. They’re powered by Fusion Cells, the kind that looks like dustbins, so you won’t need to worry about fuel lines, just cell-swapping. You won’t need to worry about replacing the He3 in the Fusion Cells either; spent cells will be sent back to J-Armory for recycling or refueling or whatever it is they do. Same goes for the weapons; Jamie’s J-Arsenal will handle maintenance and replacement and all that. The ship only needs to carry the Mechs, deploy them, and run basic maintenance. Repai
They met online the next day. Remian opted out, letting them handle it. Upon bringing up the subject of the Woofers’ request for more aid across different planets… Ermine snorted. “I refuse.” “What?” George stared. “I refuse to help them.” Ermine said stoutly. “I know that you guys all have some sort of savior syndrome, and it’s something that Remian seemed to have passed down from the very beginning, the sort of meddlesome hero complex that has you all trying to save the world at personal cost, but I’m no hero. I’m Tau, and we’re practical survivalists. We simply can’t afford to go around saving everybody. We need all our strength and resources to save ourselves. As for the Woofers, as a collective, they are a Class 5 Star Civilization, a whole class more advanced and stronger than us. They have their own governments and their own fleets. Let the Woofers help the Woofers.” Xiao Yan cut in. “As you say, they are a Class 5 Star Civilization. Since you’re talking about praticality, t
“Go, go, go!” green light flared in the bay of the Dropship as the floor fell away. George and twelve other figures were unceremoniously dumped on the ground nine feet below. They landed with heavy impacts. George staggered, realizing the gravity on this world was at least twice what he was accumstomed to back home. For a moment, he regretted leaving his Frame back on the ship, but they were here to clear the bandits out from a city center, meaning tight spaces, narrow access points, and needing to take care to avoid civilian casualties. Or at least, that was the plan. George and his squad had been deposited on the outskirts of the city, at the very border of a suburban district. “Incoming!” someone yelled. George crouched as something exploded; the ground shook and chunks of dirt flew through the air. “Get to cover! Return fire!” George called, even though he wasn’t entirely sure where the attackers were, exactly. The guys diving behind nearby garages and a public toilet clued hi
Quite predictably, the first of those calls to reach Sorrel II was from their dear friends, the Woofers. Three Paws explained it. [This is from Kelso III. It’s an agrarian world, roughly eighty hours’ flight from here for our fleet. Local gang bosses have titled themselves warlords and suppressed the citizenry with brute force. They take whatever they want, and demand whatever payment they like, on pain of death or torture. Local law enforcement has been completely overrun and even planetary militia couldn’t save the settlements under their control. The best our local paws could do is contain the situation and prevent it from getting worse.] Remian sipped hot coffee. Eighty hours flight for the Woofers Fleet should mean a bit less than seventy for the Tau fleet. “That’s rough. But what’s the point of calling us here to tell us this?” [We can help them. Just one division of your fleet could make a huge difference against these local gangs.] At the moment, the Sorrelian fleet consist