“Ay’eni.”
“Remian.”
“We have a way to send you back to Quarin space. It could take a day or so, but you would get there immediately.”
“Really? How?”
“We bring you through the Portal to Xiao Yan’s world, and there, we use the ancient formation near Scorched Earth City to send you to the place marked ‘home’. That’s how I left that world the last time and I ended up in Quarin space. You can do the same.”
“Why, that sounds awfully convenient! But right now, we’re in the middle of something, and we don’t abandon our commitments easily.”
“Oh? Are you really not going to take the quickest way back?”
“Well... it’s tempting, but no. We’ll finish what we started here first, and by the time we’re done, there will be other ways to go home.”
“That’s too bad. I was hoping I could ask you for support from Quarin space once you returned.”
“Eh... that’s... really too bad. I’m sorry, but I have to go. Your brother’s still fightin
Darian looked at Remian as if he had gone mad, but Remian just chuckled to himself softly. "The children are playing with fire, unaware that they're already being watched by many adults." He called up Zor'khan-dras. "What do you intend to do with all these nations attacking you?" Zor'khan-dras just shrugged. "What do you do when you're swarmed by ants? Bring out the ant spray. At the end of the day, despite them thinking highly of themselves, this world belongs to the Dras Clan. It might just be time to remind them of that." Remian saw the glint in his eyes and winced. "Is it possible to protect my people?" "You'll have to do that yourself." Zor'khan said, seemingly uncaring. "I'll handle the world, but I won't babysit." "Great." Remian sighed, giving up on securing the Dras Clan's protection. If they went all-out on the world, the chances of Kara-Goth, Craggy Falls, and Three Pines all suffering as collateral damage were just too high
Absolute night had covered the land. The sun, the moon, the stars... it was like everything in the sky had disappeared entirely. Against the sudden dark, all that the humans of Sorrel II could do was to turn to their artificial lighting, and huddle in their homes in horror. To them, it was the ultimate terror, that all the world had been swallowed by something so vast, their entire planet had been cut off from normal space... but how could they know that the terror of the sudden darkness was merely a tool in the hands of a child of the Dras Clan, a toy to help him sleep at night better? After all, the Draconian Dominion was a Class 6 star civilization, true members of the interstellar community who looked up to only the Big Three among human civilizations. Sorrel II was a world that had long gained control of in every sense of the term. They proved it now, even though the vast majority of the paltry humans stuck on the planet had no idea what was going on or
Day turned to night, and the night turned starless in an instant. Nature itself seemed to rise up and rage against itself. The seas rose, the sky struck down, and the earth seemed to be to join in. “Typhoon!!” The island nations screamed. “Earthquake!” The Midland nations roared. “Sandstorm!” shouts rose in Paleres, Ira and Kuasa Besar. “Tidal Wave!” Yells rose up in Embris Erie and the Saudara Nation. “Turn off everything!” There were screams in Libertaria and Ashdale, but it was too late. Lightning already struck down from the skies all across their industrial areas. Fires ignited all across their cities. “The trees! The TREES!” Horrified yelps sounded across the Rainforest Commonwealth. “The trees are attacking!” There was the sounds of dragons roaring across the entire world, and great shadows could be seen flickering across the clouds. Where they passed, storms and tornadoes arose as violent winds came into being.<
There were eight Great Dragons sent to Sorrel II, but only seven of them were Awakened for this little festive occasion. From oldest to youngest, they were; Nil’rak-dras of the Night, Ti’ela-dras of the Tides, Se’lea-dras of the Waves, Zor’khan-dras of Thunder, Mal’thor-dras of Stone, Kor’ag-dras of the Grass (since, in losing a bet, he lost the entitlement of the ‘Trees’), and Khar’al-dras of the Sands. All eight of them went raging about in their true dragon forms. Khar’al-dras showed up at the Ira Caliphate. [Hello.] “AAAIIIEEEE!!” screams exploded all across the capital. It wasn’t enough that sandstorms were tearing all their camps apart; now even this Great Dragon had come and towering creatures made of sand were rampaging through the streets. Like a child playing with toys, Khar’al-dras had some fun with sand-creatures. The cities of Ira fell apart like sand-castles. It all happened very quickly and Khar’al-dras wasn’t quite satisfied, but that
In Remian’s original expectations, upon being told of the attacks, Zor’khan-dras would gather the Draconians, maybe the dragons, and fly off to war. He’d strike the incoming fleets first, because they were nearer, then soar away back to the Dragon Empire to deal with the armies attacking there. Instead, Zor’khan mentioned the Dras Clan. That was when Remian had a hunch things were going to get bad. He called up the Woofers for help and insurance. But even then, Remian only thought Zor’khan would awaken a couple of his younger siblings, probably just Mal’thor and Kor’ag, maybe even Khar’al, since they were nearby. Never once did the thought cross his mind that the third eldest of the Great Dragons would swoop across the entire world awakening almost all of the others, including the terrifying Nil’rak-dras. Zor’khan! Wasn’t this precisely what you didn’t want?! Weren’t you trying to avoid getting your elder brothers involved? Why... why did you...? When
During those few hours, the population of Kara-Goth had gone underground. Literally. Ruth found herself leading a hastily and quite accidentally assembled ‘squad’ of young children into the tunnels. When they were grouped up according to location, she had just happened to be passing by a residential playground when every child in the park suddenly became her squad members. These were children between the ages of six to eight, too young for Adventurer Missions beyond weeding gardens or sweeping yards. The playground was the center of a square residential area of recent-refugees, and just about all of the children at there had both parents working. In short, Ruth had been the only adult in the vicinity and landed up babysitting the little ones. Up ahead, she spotted another crowd of children and two familiar faces. “Sandra! Gammie!” “Mom?” Sandra beamed when she saw her adopted mother. “Great! Kids, go follow my mom! She’ll take care of you!” “W
On the other hand, not every youngster was huddling in a cavern creche with Ruth. There was a difference, a huge difference, between the children who grew up in the Wildlands and the refugees who arrived from the Midlands. For example, 6-8 year-old ordinary, refugee ex-Midlander children were barely brave enough to do household-chore type Adventurer Guild missions after school for some ‘pocket money’. 9-10 year olds might take missions on the farms, or help paint someone’s wall or any number of deliveries and message bearing. Even the 11-12 year olds seldom ventured far from town, only a rare few ex-refugees going out to the outlying villages, and even then mainly sticking to the roads. Only teenagers would venture off-road and take on ‘real’ adventures. But the children who grew up at Fort Troas or those of the Sea People like Alani who migrated here long ago were not like that. These were more adventurous sorts who ran around the forests armed and armored o
In front of Kara-Goth, a huge figure emerged in the darkness. White stripes in the vague outline of an absolutely colossal tiger became visible. The Wind Emperor had arrived. “Here they come!” George shouted. “Darian!” “Wind Emperor!” Darian shouted, forming a six-feet Psi-blade. “Back off or else!” To that, the Wind Emperor merely roared and charged. Darian likewise charged straight for the gigantic tiger. A huge claw slammed down; Darian zipped to one side, then fired off the Psi-Blade like a lance of light stabbing out at the feline face. The other forepaw knocked the energy blade aside, and then towering teeth snapped at Darian, who dodged. The snapping teeth caused a shockwave that stirred his hair as he swung around and formed another Psi-Blade thrice his size. Meanwhile the citizens of Kara-Goth hunkered down in the tunnels. The winds were so strong, the lightning so indiscriminate, George outright forbade anyone other than Darian to step out f
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