The number of Wilds killed by humans or human activity in the Wildlands hit 10,000. With furious roars, the hordes under the command of the Dark Fang King, the Storm Pegasus King and the Bone King erupted into action. A massive flood from the left headed toward the western settlements, a wave that would hit the La Vive, Ashdale, and Itarim colonies simultaneously. A throng from the Five Lakes streamed north-east, found the river created by the Deep Emperor, and followed it north toward the lands of man. A third horde moved out from the far south, heading toward the eastern colonies of Bellas, Kara-Goth, and the Nine Mountains. By the way, just in case anyone was wondering… Asda was still on board the Ira mothership, having lost her entire fleet to mutiny. At this point, she was served and surrounded by Ira’s slaves, and none of the people or airships who had gone there with her from Fal’Herim remained. A good many of them joined Ira’s air fleet. Was that the plot of someone’s doing?
BANG! The aide shot the advisor. “Was it him who said it?” Sir Stout Senior asked. “Yes, sir.” The aide answered. “Wasn’t it you?” “No, sir.” The aide said with a perfectly straight face. Still, Sir Stout looked at him sideways suspiciously. A trio of Wood Cougars had reached the outer perimeter. Furless and seemingly made of bark and branch, these feline forms could very well be mistaken for wooden carvings if they only kept still. Sir Stout wished they would; instead, they were darting all around at frenzied speeds, tearing into the spike barriers. Just these three alone were able to break through whole meters of the outermost perimeter, clearing the way for faster, furrier creatures to charge through. “Fire!” the disciplined lines of Ashdale regulars triggered their rifles and gunfire rang in loud chorus. Blood and bone splattered across the outermost perimeter, but where five fell, fifteen swarmed through, and where none fell, twenty surged. The outermost perimeter was comp
In case anyone was wondering, Sir Stout had no idea his father died, or how, or even why. It would be a long time before he even thought to check. It wasn’t that he was unfilial or anything. It was just that this day would be very, very chaotic. *** At the time, the Itarim commander was laughing. His head was tilted to the sky as he roared his laughter madly. The Itarim colony had already fallen. In fact, their vaunted siege engines and artillery barely got off a single volley before they had fallen silent entirely. “What happened?” he had asked. “Sir, they’re already overrun!” his aide reported. “What? How? The Wilds haven’t even breached our perimeter yet!” “Sir… they came from the lake.” “From the lake?!” at that time, his voice was filled with disbelief. “Yes, sir… they can swim.” They can SWIM! Wilds from the water had struck out on land, amphibious types, poisonous frogs, blindingly fast newts, reptiles the names of which he didn’t even know… the Itarim colony had count
Days since the Beast Wave Began: 1. Current Kill Count: 374. In the north, the world war raged. Germat and Auria invaded La Vive with impunity, but as they ventured deeper into La Vive territory, their supply lines began to report having odd, unexpected problems. At that time, the Midlands Sea People began to evacuate La Vive refugees en masse. Bulrak tried to catch up and rushed into Bellas territory, actually bypassing the fortifications and defense towers trying to stop them. Three Bellas towns were overrun, plundered and reduced to rubble in a day, but the Bellas fortifications made them pay for each one dearly. Otta and Ira meanwhile were in a standoff with the Nine Mountains, having overwhelmed their ground forces in the Neutral Zone, but unable to advance into their highland territories. The brave Red Mountain clan held them at bay, utterly denying them the gains of even an inch of their mountain. Kuasa Besar attempted to help them, but simply couldn’t squeeze their forces t
Directly south of Itarim, south-east of La Vive, east of Hispanol and west of Ceres, were a stretch of islands bearing small towns of short, white structures. These were the islands of the Midlands Sea People, who were currently allied with Ashdale and La Vive in the world war and presently filling up rapidly with refugees from La Vive. At nine forty-eight in the morning the day after the Beast Tide officially began, lookouts on the southernmost island reported seeing something most unusual; there appeared to be a new island to the south, and it had appeared practically out of nowhere. An hour later, a panicked report came in; never mind the island, there was a huge flock of Wilds on the horizon, and they did not look friendly. Red eyes, slavering at the fang, and all that. The hour after that, someone remarked that the new island that appeared seemed to be getting bigger, or perhaps, closer. But by then, everyone was too busy preparing defenses and screaming for help to really list
“They’ve closed the airport! Once we get our passengers, we’ll have to set course to Fal’Herim!” Izak ordered on board the last Kara-Goth Sky Barge attempting to evacuate refugees from the Bellas colony. “Fal’Herim? But the Beast Tide is already almost upon us!” Izhan protested. “Then we’ll just have to go up, above the clouds!” Izak barked. “Now, keep an eye down there! The moment they call for help, we’re going in!” But Bellas wasn’t calling for help. They were already swarmed, their entire tower formation was already overrun with Wilds, their walls were broken, and just about all their people were barricaded inside their main fortified keep, but the defense towers were still standing, the tower guards were still shooting, and while the town itself was completely trampled, the people appeared to have taken few casualties. At least, until the first towers started to fall. A Tier 5 Bear swiped it with both claws and left gaping holes in the lower walls that the soldiers inside coul
“Fire! Shoot the Ballista!” TWHOOSH! A runic bolt slammed into the Skeletal Serpent at point blank range, causing it to roar and fall back, but where one withdrew, two more rushed in, and charged at the defenders’ formations. A chorus of gunshots rang out at the same time, but they barely made dents in the Skeletal Serpents’ carapaces. The creatures hissed, then charged. “Not good!” Max raised his shield as the tail of an attacking Skeletal Serpent rammed into him. The impact threw him backwards, squashing him against the formation of Legionnaires trying to hold their position against the smallest Tier 5 they’d ever seen. It did not go well. “OOMPFH!” Markus received a similar blow on his shield and likewise was hammered into their own formation, which itself was beginning to look rather shaky. Even with their trained muscles, even with heavy armor, their combined might flailed against the Skeletal Serpents’ overwhelming physical strength. A couple more hits like that and everyone
In Fal’Herim, there was a silent gloom brooding over the city. Hurried footsteps scurried hastily across the unusually clear roads. Fearful voices spoke in hushed whispers. Doors were shut and windows battered on every street. They hadn’t exactly been keeping the Tide a secret. Word got around pretty fast. By now, the entire city knew there was a mass of Wilds headed their way. A great many decided simply to hunker down and hide under their beds. Tim’s people had gone around urging evacuation, but only about a tenth of the people in the city actually decided to leave. As for the Industrial District associated with Remian, it was all but emptied out. Everyone had gone underground with as much of the equipment as they could squeeze into storage without making things uncomfortable. They had plenty of supplies, and they had sixteen tunnels branching out to exits far from Fal’Herim’s underground. One of them even went out past the desert and into Paleres. “The Tide’s advance party has p
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