Contrary to George’s expectations, Darian’s life did not become as complicated as his. Darian simply left the Lords in charge of the Territories to handle their business and went back to continue his training at Dragon Lake.
Remian immediately hired a whole army of prospectors and geologists over from the Deutero Company. Various mineral treasures were discovered within a week; small deposits of Misty Steel, Breezium, Earth Pulse Obsidian, a vein of Star Sardeinite, and heap loads of Celestial Salt. That last bit was somewhat controversial; Celestial Salt was considered a valuable cultivation resource in the Dragon Empire, a temporary magic-enhancement food in Ecclesia, an expensive ingredient in luxury restaurants in La Vive, but was outright banned as illegal in Ashdale and nineteen other countries. The reason for this was that while this salt was mildly beneficial to magic and martial cultivation, it was better known for its rather intoxicating effects and addictive trait
“Sandraaaaaa!” Mindy yelled as she went down faster and faster. “Sorry! You weren’t supposed to jump from here! There’s a clear spot farther down this branch…!” “Too late.” Gammie summarized with a grimace. Speaking of clear spaces, it really was somewhat clear now that she’d gotten past that patch of branches. There was nothing beneath her for the next few hundred feet, all the way to the ground. If there was a branch of something, Mindy might have tried to grab on, but lacking that, and seeing absolutely no human way to save herself from this predicament, Mindy gave up entirely. “Forget this!” Mindy growled, and shouted up. “Sorry, Sandra, I’m going to have to destroy your business tools!” “What?” Sandra herself was already in a panic and didn’t understand what Mindy was trying to say. Mindy didn’t explain further. In a flash, wings of fire erupted from her back, and flapped once, twice, easily bringing her back up to the bra
Filled with self-confidence in her newfound strength, Mindy returned ‘home’ and went to see George. But he wasn’t in his office. “George, where are you?” “I’m busy right now, Mindy. I’ll come find you later, okay?” George said. Something in his voice sounded suspiciously evasive. Mindy frowned. Did he really think he could keep secrets from her that easily? Tightening her lip, she closed her eyes and spread her senses. A flicker of flame drifted out from under one eyelid. There! At the airport, third dock. Mindy dashed up and burst onto the scene with a triumphant, “Surprise!!” There was George, with a bunch of people in weird robes. George’s face was red at first, but then he saw her arrive and then his face turned pale. “So this must be the girl.” A dry, cold chuckle sounded from a very wrinkled old man in a very polished white robe. “Misty, wasn’t it?” “Mindy, your excellency.” One of his people supplied.
“But… but what about lunch?!” Fel protested as Exel led his crew back on board their airship. They left George staring at their back on the docks with a sinking feeling in his heart. “I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t even protect her…” George muttered darkly. “George! I got them as soon as I could!” Alani came running up. “We have thirty-nine people now!” “Thirty-nine?” George’s face fell. “I asked for a hundred…” “But… but there aren’t many people who can channel magic!” Alani protested. “I tried my best! I really did!” “I know. I know you did.” George sighed, rubbing his forehead. “It’s not your fault. It’s just… without mana crystals, we need people to power the airship engines magically. Thirty-nine people are barely enough to move one Sky Fortress.” “Or nineteen Corvettes. Twenty, if you count yourself in.” “Twenty Corvettes.” George shook his head. “That’s not going to be enough to stop a military-grade Galleon an
Everything was black all of a sudden. “Uh… Phoebe? Someone? Hello?” Remian looked around. “Where am I?” “Tu belna rakeo, nosh vontai subane.” A clear feminine voice suddenly answered from nowhere. “What?” Remian blinked. “I don’t understand.” “Qiu zhen meishu li, mu tau.” “Uh… I still don’t understand.” Remian tried a different language. “Bahasa boleh, tak?” “Ginoskeis? Drak nakour raz faus?” Remian grimaced. Dumping language entirely, he tried to send out a Psionic broadcast in pure concept. [Who?] And pure concepts returned. [Aide. Helper. Assistant.] [Where?] Remian asked next. Another concept replied, and then he started to understand. This was a sort of illusion space meant for teaching. The ‘being’ that spoke to him wasn’t actually real, and only existed here. ‘Her’ job was to help the user of this illusion space. [So… you can teach me? You can tell me all about the Black Ruins?] Th
“They took Mindy?!” Remian woke up to the bad news the next morning before he could even start studying the spell. “I’m afraid so. I’ve been trying to talk to their reinforcements, but…” “Why are you trying to talk to their reinforcements?” Remian asked, puzzled. “You should be talking to ours.” “Ours?” George’s question came back over the comms crystal even more baffled. “You should be talking to Doom and Darian.” Remian told him. “You should be talking to Tor’na-dras and all the Kings of the Wilds. You need to prepare for battle! You should already be rushing to the rescue!” “War?! But… uh… I mean, I want to rescue Mindy too, but…” “What does Shadowflash say?” Remian cut in. “Shadowflash? What does he have to do with any of this?” George asked. “Technically, he’s the ruler of your region. As far as the Wilds are concerned… he’s your boss.” “He’s my boss?! I thought he was my pet or something!” Remian r
One bright-eyed maid came to fetch Mindy in the evening. “Dear guest, you have been invited to dinner with Lady Knight Fel.” “A dinner invitation?” Mindy blinked. “Oh, yes. We are not barbarians.” That was said with a giggle that left one somewhat in doubt. “Despite everything Sir Fate might claim.” “Really? I have to say I wasn’t expecting… dinner.” “No, you were expecting dungeons, chains and whipping, weren’t you?” Another giggle left one even more in doubt. “Uh… anyway! I’m hungry! Let’s go eat!” Having missed lunch, Mindy decided to go along with the dinner plan. Fel, it turned out, cleaned up rather nicely once she took off her armor. Under her helmet, she had a tanned, narrow face and a short ponytail. Tonight she wore a white ceremonial military uniform, complete with coat and pants. Rather than beautiful, one might be more accurate to call her handsome-looking. Actually, the roast chicken on the table looked better-loo
Hanging on to her chicken drumstick as if for dear life, Mindy followed Fel as they darted out to see what was happening. “W-why did they attack?” someone was screaming. “They never showed any interest in us before!” “Who are they? Who’s attacking?” Fel, lacking Mindy’s advantages, was completely in the dark. “Reporting to Sira Fel!” the bright-eyed maid stumbled across the corridor as the ship swerved and tilted. “A swarm of dragons are attacking us! It’s the one that we spotted this afternoon.” “We knew about them?” Fel stared. “Then why didn’t we evade or strike first?!” “But they didn’t seem to pay any attention to us! They were just flying past at low altitude, and we’ve been passing by Wilds like that everywhere, and none of them even came close…” It was like how a naval ship might ignore a school of sharks swimming past deep underwater. Mindy understood it. This was the Wildlands, and there were powerful Wilds in large numbers e
Out in the open, the battle was in full swing. With a roar, a red dragon nearly crashed directly into Fel’s yacht, but Fel whacked it with a greatsword about as big as herself, batting it aside long enough for her airship to slip past. She took one glance at the chaos ensuing all around them and shook her head. She called out to Sir Jared, still battling three dragons on deck. “Chief! We gotta go!” “No! I will not abandon ship! I will stand my ground to the bitter end!” Sir Jared proclaimed bravely in a voice like thunder. “To the very last!” “Okay, bye!” Fel replied cheerily, and her airship zipped away from the thick of the fighting. Sir Jared spluttered, but then a concerted charge by two dragons bowled him over and he went rolling right off the deck of his airship. Stubbornly, he pulled a little grappling hook from his belt and threw that over the deck railing. He tugged himself back onto the deck, dashed over to where he’d dropped
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