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2024-10-29 19:42:56A few hours passed during which Tim’s job got harder and harder. Holding a few hundred meters of line against pursuing zombies was easy. Holding a few kilometers was not. As for holding a few hundred kilometers...? Even Tim was having trouble coping as the day went by.
He’d already received early reinforcements from Fal’Herim and deployed them on the ground, sending back shipload after shipload of his new servants and workers. His forces on the battle front already numbered in the thousands. But even so they were having a hard time keeping up as the front kept expanding along with the numbers of zombies randomly headed their way or in pursuit of fleeing refugees. They retreated every so often, trying to keep their combat arena within manageable bounds, but the zombies were just too many, and covered far too much territory, and the spread was just too quick.
This was the situation that Remian found Tim in by the time the main forces arrived at the scene. By that time,
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Kingdom of the Weak 452. The Siblings Su
The sister in question, previously Lieutenant Su Jing, and recently, Captain, was in fact on board Mindy’s airship along with Ling Yun (previously Corporal, but currently, Sergeant) and the rest of the Century under her command. Incidentally, Yang Feng (previously Captain, now Major) and the rest of the Cohort under his command were with Remian in the main fleet. (For reference: Cohort = around 1000 troops under command of a Major, Century = around 100 troops under command of a Captain, Company = 30-60 troops under a Lieutenant, Squad = 8-12 troops under a Sergeant.) The fact that Yang Feng was not on board the same ship made Su Jing somewhat moody, so all her troops and subordinates preferred to steer clear of her, leaving her all by herself on the prow of the airship. Feeling the distance somewhat, she’d contacted her brother and assured him help was on the way. Sure enough, Mindy’s airship and the rest of the advance forces from the Wildlands were making a
Kingdom of the Weak 453. What? Why?!
“Four positions, four airships... we can position ourselves like in the Wildlands. Alani to the North, Darian to the East, Mindy to the South. George stays with central command.” George raised a hand. “I object.” “What? Why?” Alani asked. “I’ll take the south.” George said. “What?! Why?” Mindy asked. “Because I can do most good there.” “What? Why?!” Darian asked. “It’s because we’re the Order of Steel.” George said softly. “In terms of fast advance and large scale logistics, do you think any of the other Orders can compare?” “What are you even talking about?” Mindy asked. “I’m talking about being able to set up big orderly camps very, very fast.” George explained. “That’s easy enough. Just put up whatever as fast as you can.” Mindy mentioned. Darian chuckled. “Mindy, you’re making his point for him. Okay, George, I’ll openly agree that Adventurer camps aren’t as neat or orderly as those from the
Kingdom of the Weak 454. Fifteen Lines
To be fair, a Banshee was an entire Tier stronger than an armored skeleton. While a skeleton was comparable to a Tier 6 Lord Challenger, a fully fledged Banshee was comparable to a Tier 7 King Challenger. This particular sample was highly developed, easily able to succeed as a Lord, and would eventually reach the level of a Death Knight, but based on the way Su Jing beat the stuffing out of it, this one wasn’t nearly there yet. As for Su Jing… based on what he could see and sense, Su Jin estimated his sister to be somewhere in the upper Innate Qi stages, very close to breaking through to Earth Qi. In Wildlands terms, upper Tier 6, almost but not quite Tier 7. An equivalent of a Lord of the Wilds, but not yet ready to be a King Challenger. In other words, not as strong as the Banshee. “Leave this one to me.” Su Jin sighed. Among everyone here, only he had the kind of power to handle this. Having had a little bit of rest and a good chuckle, Su Jin got to his fe
Kingdom of the Weak 455. Sixteen Days
The skies rained fire on either side of the exodus streaming into the temporary shelter city. George and Darian had their airships stationed to the left and right dropping Tau cluster bombs to cover the evacuees’ route to the city. These explosives tore apart every zombie or blood hound in their vicinity and carpeted the entire horizon in fire, incinerating all the bits and pieces left by the Undead. Within the city, two hundred members of the Order of Steel were scrambling around setting up emergency shelters and repairing whatever structures seemed most easily made habitable. Six thousand volunteers ran around with them helping them wherever they could or otherwise getting in the way in the attempt. They might not have the strength to fight Undead, but they were willing to pitch in for safer jobs like construction and repair. Already a million evacuees had made it into the city limits safely behind military lines, and almost fifteen million more were on the way. No
Kingdom of the Weak 456. Split
“What about those of us headed south? How long until we reach the coast?” Someone already had estimates. “Five days, at our current pace. We can follow the coast farther south-west until we come to the absolute tip of the continent, which would be another two days’ journey, but afterwards...” “Afterwards, we’ll have to follow the southern coast toward the west. We’ll follow it all the way to Ira, and cross Ira to get to Fal’Herim, or better yet, keep following the coast all the way to the Song Clan territory.” “That’s a really, really long trip over land. Twenty days’ journey, maybe.” “But we’ll be following the coast, with our backs guarded by the sea, and avoiding the worst of the Undead. We might even be able to rely on fishing for food.” Chuan said optimistically, though he himself didn’t feel so hopeful on the matter. “Estimates for the east-bound group?” “Nine days to the eastern coast. Fourteen if they head south-east and go all the way
Kingdom of the Weak 457. Refuge
With the vast majority of the Reserves in desperate need of rest, it fell to the Fifth Legion to protect Refuge City and the one million people who decided to stay with them. The first thing Su Jin did was to take charge of the populace. Everybody was immediately conscripted into their own Refuge City Militia, and set to work clearing debris, scavenging supplies, and building fortifications. In this city, there were no refugees, no non-combatants; everybody was expected to wield a weapon, and everybody was expected to pitch in on securing food, shelter, and fortifications. While not up to par with Imperial Army combat standards, such a Militia was at least as good as ten logistics units in military terms. In terms of scavenging and raising infrastructure, they performed quite admirably… or at least, quite desperately. On occasion a zombie or six might rise from corpses within the ruins and try to eat someone for dinner, but with everyone going around in armed groups,
Kingdom of the Weak 458. Westward
The South Team following Chuan didn’t have it easy either. They headed for the coast expecting to have an easier time finding food, but the truth was, food was even harder to find. Scavenging teams often returned empty handed or bearing non-edible goods. The reason for this soon became obvious; toward evening of the first day, they encountered a fortified settlement stubbornly hanging on despite the Undead hordes. It took only one glance to see that they had sent out their own scavenger teams, stocked up and turtled up behind increasingly reinforced walls. When Chuan first tried to contact them, they were cheered and thought the military had come to the rescue. Very soon they realized that wasn’t the case and just as quickly, the warmth of their welcomes faded to chilly suspicion. Out of twelve settlements they encountered, four offered to trade, three simply asked them to move on without causing trouble, two asked them for help, two demanded payment for pass
Kingdom of the Weak 459. Rogue
Remian’s first instinct was to charge in to the Capital and seal the Portal regardless, but then what? In depriving Zar’khan of the wealth he wanted, what would that Dragon Prince do? Seeing the way he attacked the north and the Midlands, an easy guess would be that he’d declare war as always. This would pit Remian’s people against the Dragons, and then he’d have to worry not only about the Dragon Empire, but the interstellar Dras Clan, whose big nest ship was coming in a matter of decades for the very Dragons he’d be at war against. Even if they could fend off Zar’khan and his forces for that long, what would happen to the Wildlands once the Dras Clan arrived? Were they to go to war against the full might of the Draconian Dominion then? Maybe it wouldn’t come to that. Maybe Zor’khan could put in a good word for Remian. Or he could just as easily sell them out and have them for dinner. At this point, Remian wasn’t sure any more. [All right, don’t quarrel. Remian stil
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523. Comms
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
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522. Second Aid Mission
“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
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521. Next Step
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
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520. Uber States Colony
“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
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519. Scoop
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
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518. We should call Remian
“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
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517. Objectives and Objections
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
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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
- Kingdom of the Weak
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
