A dreadful hush had fallen over Ashdale as Mandy boarded Charlie’s Sky Galleon bound for Kara-Goth. A great many people murmured in corners, or in rushed whispers at private tables and side benches.
“W-what’s going on?” Mandy asked Charlie, as the airship took on six different families and roughly thirty other people.
“They’re headed to the Wildlands. Remian and George put up some paid ads with Deutero inviting skilled farmers, food processors and machinists to join them.” Charlie shrugged. “There’s so many of them going south now, my airship alone can’t manage. That’s why we’re bringing three airships in a convoy. We had to borrow magi from the company to handle all three, what with mana dwindling everywhere.”
“Oh.” Mandy turned around and frowned. “Actually, I was talking about the mood in the city. Everything seems to be very hush-hush.”
“That?” Charlie hesitated. “I think people are just getting tense. This morning, some of the lower quality magic
“Yip.” Alani groaned, slowly becoming aware of sunlight and a furry paw nudging her in the shoulder. “Is it morning already?” Not just morning. Based on the heat and she brightness of the sun, Alani realized she’d overslept, but that everyone had simply let her sleep in today. After all, yesterday had a long, hard day. “I’m up.” Alani groggily sat up and patted the wolfcat at her side. This time it was Flare who had woken her. Two weeks had passed since they first landed on this island in the Midlands Sea. True to his word, Darian had put them through a mix of Psionics, martial arts, and weapons training. Juni and Jamie even trained with armor. Despite their earlier expectations, however, they had little part in constructing anything or evacuating any refugees. The Order of Light did that, and they did so in growing numbers. Two hundred knights at the beginning had swelled to more than twice as many by now, with more still on the way. Them, and Alani. Unlike the others, Alani’s tr
At the time, Tim was sneaking through the Dragon Empire. Having reached the capital, he took over an entire warehouse in the name of the Abundant Cheese Company, whose sole proprieter was himself. Using the warehouse as a base, nine clans of lynxmice scouted and stalked the military base from which the red mana crystals emerged. Renovations were ongoing at that base. The structure on top of the red mana site had turned into a fortress. Based on the food supplies entering it every day, at least five thousand soldiers had to be staying there on a constant basis. Furthermore, they weren’t just any normal soldiers. Based on what Tim observed and what the lynxmice reported, only Adept-level Draconians were permitted to enter, and all of them appeared to be part of the First Draconian Royal Legion, the honor guard of the First Prince himself! Tim was scratching his head over how to infiltrate the compound when news arrived from the latest shift of lynxmice.
(Note: Bonus Chapter (?))The Mitigok were coming.In the Coslora Star Cluster, the Draconian Dominion and the Galactic South Quarin Coalition had the biggest headaches with that fact. The swarm in question had migrated over from the neighboring star cluster and arrived smack dab in the border zones between their territories.Over the course of a hundred years, they devoured the star systems they first arrived at and began to spread. First three, then nine different star systems were engulfed in war, then finally evacuated as the celestial bodies were devoured. Following their progress, another fifteen would fall prey to these world devourers within the next hundred years.As for the next hundred years beyond that, the estimates reached twenty-six. This included a somewhat less well known star system known as Sorrel, whose second planet was currently home to one rather busy Remian Vin.Three Gate jumps away from Sorrel, a Quarin Celestial Defense F
“How much does a red mana crystal sell for, these days?” “Um… the last one was auctioned off went for 540,000,000 lir.” Mindy reported with a gulp. “That was three days ago. Now…” “We might have to set aside 600 million lir to get Tim back.” Remian shut his eyes tight. The Dragon Empire auctioned off ten crystals a week, all of them red. Each red was worth 100,000 mana, which meant that at the last exchange rate, each point of mana was currently worth 5,400 lir. That was insane! At this exchange rate, an average Quarin salaryman with a single month’s pay would be a multi-millionaire here! Exchanging his mana crystals for lir, any Quarin noble would easily match the entire world’s wealth all by himself! What did Zor’khan-dras need so much money for? Was hoarding wealth really so important to the Great Dragon of Lightning? Not to mention that he was selling mana for lir. In other words, if there was indeed something he wanted to buy, it
While Remian was preparing to take up a job that involved taking out garbage, Tim was in a palace, seated at a banquet, dressed in a white coat frilled with gold lace. Seated across from him were the Dragon Empire’s Chief of Police, the Minister of Finance, and the Empire’s most prominent industrialist. Seated next to him was a gorgeous noble girl who also owned every hospital in the Empire privately. She kept blushing every time she sneaked a glance at him. At the head of the table was seated a man with a dominating presence. While everyone else was dressed in high formal attire, mess dress uniform or equivalent, this man wore only a comfortable silk shirt and slacks. But of course, he could wear whatever he wanted. This was a man in his own home, at his own dining table. It didn’t matter what he wore, every servant treated him with absolute respect and very often, awe. In short, Tim was having dinner with the Emperor and his children. “Shoul
While Remian, Mindy and Darian were sneaking through the Dragon Empire, Taj, who had somehow ended up supervisoing Mindy’s shipyards, called Mindy urgently. “It’s Xiao Yan. She wants something.” Taj told her. Xiao Yan? What could the little girl want? Color pencils and some drawing paper? “Give her whatever she wants.” “But…!” “I’m busy! Just handle it!” Mindy barked and hung up. At that, Taj gulped, looking at the drawings in Xiao Yan’s hands. It turned out Xiao Yan had already done her drawing, and she wasn’t asking for materials to draw more. In fact, what she wanted was… “This is my latest designs for the Frigate-class Scorpion Gunboat.” Xiao Yan said proudly. “Build it.” “B-but… we don’t even know if it’ll work! Maybe we should wait until Mindy gets back!” “Mindy?” Xiao Yan snorted. “I’ve seen her designs. She doesn’t seem to understand how propellers work. She keeps putting the engines at the back. That’s
Meanwhile, in the capital of the Dragon Empire, an epic concert was beginning. As dusk fell over the great city, little flashlights- err… spotlights came to life, shining upon the central square before the mana fortress, where a lynxmouse stood on stage with one paw behind his back and the other high in the air. By the hundreds, his audience gathered, and together, they began to chant his name. “Mikiik! Mikiik! Mikiik! Mikiik! Mikiik!” Softly a breeze blew through the square where they gathered, and from the side of the stage, a lynxmouse beat upon a pair of tanned skin drums. BOOM! BOOM! “Mikiik! Squiikiki… kiik!” One extremely zealous fanmouse squeaked about bearing baby lynxmice enthusiastically, before all but falling over backward in an overexcited faint. To the other side, a skilled musician lynxmouse pulled and played a strange string instrument, filling the air with music… yes, that’s a rubber band. No, we shouldn’t laugh. “Squ
Zor’khan-dras tapped his lips as he sat on his chair. “Greetings, Remian. I have to confess, when I said I wanted to meet you THIS was not how I envisioned it happening.” Across from him, Remian stood still in his Silhouette, with a collar around its neck led by a chain held in the hands of a very proud-looking Nai’khan-dras. “Grandpa! See what I caught!” “About that… it wasn’t what I planned either, but…” With a grimace, Remian let his Silhouette fade away. Nai’khan-dras stared as the ‘ghost wolf’ disappeared into nothing. “D-doggie? Doggie…?!” Tears welled up in her eyes, and then began to flow down uncontrollably. “Doggie…!!!” She began to sob, and her sobbing rapidly increased in intensity. Abruptly Death re-appeared, looming over Remian, practically on top of him. Under the shadow of Death, Remian hurriedly recalled his Silhouette and had it nose Nai’khan-dras playfully, tail wagging as if its disappearance was just some sort of g
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