Home / Sci-Fi / Kingdom of the Weak / 395. All hell breaks loose
395. All hell breaks loose
Author: VicL
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

“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

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    519. Scoop

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    518. We should call Remian

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    517. Objectives and Objections

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    516. Changing Gear

    “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

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    514. Out there

    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