“L-leaving? No! You can’t! You can’t just give up and die like this!” George protested.
Remian blinked. “Who said anything about dying? I’m just going south.”
“What does that mean, exactly?” George demanded.
“More time with Phoebe, mainly. We’re going to investigate the Black Ruins all over the Wildlands.” Remian paused. “Don’t worry. We’ll have the Eagle Lord for support.”
“Isn’t that… beneath him?” George asked, weakly.
“Actually, it’s more like his wife supporting us.”
“Ah. That’ll work.” George suddenly thought of something. “This sudden retirement to the south… it wouldn’t have anything to do with Mandy arriving tonight, would it?”
Remian froze.
“You’re running away!?” George blurted.
“I’m not running! It’s just… I’m going south. That’s it. That’s all.”
“Who are you trying to kid? You decided to drop everything and run the minute you heard she was coming to town! What are you afraid of? Your girlfri
“The target is the Flaming Salamander Lord. He is based in Rocky Thorns, just east of Craggy Falls.” Darian told his brother. “His physical abilities are low for a Class 6, but his psionic abilities are far beyond what most Lords can manage.” “So… I need to defend against Illusions?” Remian asked. “No, you need to watch out for fire. Salamanders have an innate pyrokinetic ability. Or at least that’s what Doom says. Me, I’m not even sure if it’s Psionic or magical, like Draconian bloodlines. Whatever the case, be prepared to face a lot of fire.” “Great. A fire-wielding giant lizard. Why am I fighting him again?” “To challenge a King, you must first qualify as a Lord the proper way, by defeating a Lord. Compared to all the flying types, the heavy hulking types, and basically everything else out there, I felt the Salamander Lord was the easiest target for you to pick on.” Darian shrugged. “Considering that your magic is your strongest point, you should b
Remian met him at the airship docks of Fal’Herim. “Hey, Tim. Sorry for asking for help so suddenly.” “It’s fine.” Tim waved it off dismissively. “So, you’re really going to challenge the Flaming Salamander Lord to a duel?” “Yeah, we can’t afford to offend the Wood Emperor. Kor’ag-dras was quite clear on his demands.” Remian winced. “At least he gave us a fighting chance.” “Literally.” Tim rolled his eyes. “Well, if it’s books you want, I’ve got you covered. I have the best collection of magic books in all of Fal’Herim. In fact, it’s safe to say I have THE collection of Fal’Herim.” “What did you do?” Remian asked, eyes wide. “Tim, did you steal everyone’s magic books?!” “No, I bought the national library.” Tim answered. “It was going for cheap.” “You BOUGHT the library?! Is that even legal?!” “Apparently Asda needed to raise disaster funds.” Tim shrugged. “She’s started selling off a lot of public property. The national library, the airport, half the schools, the entire sewage sy
Two days before his duel with the Flaming Salamander Lord, Phoebe found Remian pondering over a book. “What’s on your mind?” she rubbed his back slowly. “I was wondering about how scientific magic could be.” Phoebe stared at him blankly. “Isn’t magic itself unscientific? Aren’t they in complete contradiction?” “Well… not exactly. A lot of magic has to do with imagery and knowledge. What if you used magic in conjunction with scientific knowledge? Would that work?” Remian asked. “What are you talking about?” Phoebe asked, completely baffled. “No, no, it was just an idea. I was looking at three different elemental systems and thinking about how all of them work according to the understanding of different Magi’s understanding. One system supports four elements; earth, fire, air, water. Another says there’s five, from wood, metal, earth, water and fire. The other says there’s about ten, including light, sound, lightning, and ice being separ
Meanwhile, the Flaming Salamander Lord snorted. [A humaaan…? A humaaaan wants to challenge meeeee?] The word had reached him three days ago. But he didn’t care. Snoozing in the sun, the Flaming Salamander thought for a moment of how roasted human might taste. [Hmm. Maybe better not use too much fire. I might burn the meat.] The Flaming Salamander Lord thought. [I think… medium-rare would be best. Yeessssss… medium-rare.] *** The day before the duel, Phoebe brought Remian to her quarters and said, “Take off your clothes.” “What?” Remian blinked. Wordlessly, Phoebe handed him a thick and padded package. “What is this?” Remian opened it. Inside was a suit of leather armor. “Fire Wyvern leather, reinforced with dragon scales. Had to ask Darian for help to get the materials.” Phoebe said shortly. “Might itch a bit. Try it on.” “Dragon scales… did some dragon die for this?” Remian eyed it dubiously. “A
[Foolish human! You will soon fill my belly…] The Flaming Salamander Lord started a long-winded rant proclaiming his superiority and the general inferiority of humans.It really was long-winded. Remian was on the ground while the FSL was still going on about the flabby, tiny bodies of humans. He waited a few minutes while the FSL went on to boast about his powers, his body, his handsome, ruggish features compared to Remian’s pale, wan skin…Five minutes afterward, Remian yawned while the FSL threatened Remian’s family, friends, town, and generally everyone he ever met…[Look, are we fighting or not?] Remian grew tired of waiting at last and asked directly.[HAH! Speaking so audaciously! How bold! Strike the first blow, if you dare…!]Remian had had it. Raising one hand, pointed to the FSL and said, “Null Oxygen.”That was the thing about magic and science. While magic seemed to bend the rul
Markus leapt to one side as the paw came crashing down again. The ground shook as it landed where he’d stood a moment ago, causing him to stumble as the Golden Lion Lord tried to paw him once more.Half-panicked, Markus dropped his sword and his shield, giving up on blocking entirely and focused on running. He dodged the paw, leapt aside as the ground shook from the impact, rolled as far and as fast as he could, only to fail to escape the next slam. Pieces of Frame went scattering across the field.Astonishingly, though the veteran legionnaire had the wind knocked clear out of him, as far as injuries went, Markus wasn’t all that hurt. Was his armor really that good? Markus had a moment of doubt before he glanced at the Golden Lion Lord and saw the big cat actually yawn.Looking at it from the lion’s point of view, Markus suddenly had a burst of insight and felt all the more miserable for it.The Golden Lion Lord was just toying with him!
“You want ME to go fight the Lords of the Wilds?” Mindy stared blankly at George. “But I’ve got airships to build! I have a 60 million lir contract to fulfill! Do you know how busy I am these days?!”“She really has been busy.” Tim mentioned by the side. “She’s practically taken over four Industrial Districts already.”“How many Industrial Districts do you have under your command?” George asked, in a daze.“As of this morning… fourteen.”“You’re really taking over all of Fal’Herim?”“Really.”“Ahem!” Mindy cleared her throat. “I have to ask… why me? Isn’t Song Chen and Markus and all those strong guys there with you?”“They already tried. Suffice to say… it didn’t go well.”“And you somehow think little old me would survive any better?&
“Target spotted!” “Ready all ballistae!” Song Chen ordered. “Range?” “Three kilometers!” “Keep me updated!” Song Chen studied the Cyan Python Lord through his spyglass. “Load explosive bolts!” “Explosive bolts!” the order was echoed from ship to ship. FDF personnel set bolts inscribed with explosive runes into the ballistae. This was going to be an expensive affair. Explosive bolts, unlike those fitted with runes like Penetration or Impact, were one-use items. Once they hit their targets, they would explode and the bolts themselves would be shattered into countless shards. Song Chen hesitated for a moment, wondering if all this was going to be worth the cost, but George had been quite clear; spare no expense to take down the Cyan Python Lord. “Fire at five hundred meters!” Song Chen barked. “That close, sir? But the range of our ballistae can easily hit it from thrice the distance!” “That close! Those scales on that sna
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