In Kara-Goth eight year-old children like Benny were all gathered inside the hill fortress itself. In the large cavern next to the wolfcat den, math class was in session and hundreds of younger children were gathered in groups of 30 or so with teachers and workbooks.
Since the Tier 3 Undead began to appear, all families with young children were moved into the hill fortress. Kindergarten children were gathered in the circular creches where they played and learned all day. Creches in the outer city were closed.
When the Tier 4 Undead came up, schools in the outer city were closed too. Nobody below the age of 12 was permitted outside the Fortress. Even the teenagers only went out in armed groups no smaller than five-man squads. Very few youngsters were allowed outside in groups smaller than that.
Xue Mengli was one of the exceptions. As a Mid Innate Qi stage martialist, she was already considered strong enough to handle zombie hounds on her own. Heck, an 8t
In a certain treehouse on the southernmost of the Three Pines, an elder woman entered her home. Within was her adopted daughter, who greeted her with interest. “How did it go?” “Not good.” Ruth sat down on a rattan couch and rubbed her sore feet. “The Eagle Lord refuses to allow us to expand the treetop settlement any more.” “But… but it’s so little! And there’s so much tree…” Sandra trailed off, seeing the dark look on Ruth’s face. Ruth added grimly. “He’s actually asking us to move out.” Sandra gaped. “M-move out?! But… but the Undead…!” “The Undead is precisely why he doesn’t want us here.” Ruth grimaced. “He says it’s our fault.” “But… but it’s the Dragon Empire… and that Crown Prince…” Sandra spluttered. “Humans.” Ruth summarized. “He blames humans. Also, he says Aeyrie has been spending too much time away from home lately. He blames humans for that, too.” “But… won’t the birds be safer is we’re here to defend the
In the end, the request for construction materials landed up in Mindy’s lap. One glance with Chirpy received a decisive answer. “I don’t care if he’s the eldest cousin of whatever Xue, they’re not building a town in Nine Kings Range!” Mindy snorted. “The Flame Emperor refuses their prolonged presence on her lands! Get out of her territory in one week, or so help us, she will destroy them herself.” This response was passed along. Eventually it led to a sit down between Remian and the Xue and Zhao Patriarchs. The Xue Patriarch actually looked apologetic. “I had no idea it came to this. We’ve been busy preparing to fight off the Undead, I haven’t heard from the rest stop in quite some time…” [Numbers?] Remian sent out a psionic query. [56,200 Xue, 19,600 Zhao!] a lynxmouse reported. [How in creation…?!] Remian gaped. “How did you guys sneak 75,000 people through the Portal?!” To be honest, he’d thought those few tens of th
“Two hundred thousand Undead are coming?! Under the command of an Elder Lich?!” Remian burst out loud. “Before you panic, this one seems different. Rather than being hostile, he seems almost polite. He said he’s come to greet and worship the Great Dragon of Death, Ra’oul-dras.” “Oh, for crying out loud!” Just to keep things in perspective, an Elder Lich was classified as a being two Tiers higher than regular Liches. That is, the Conglomerate rated them at Tier 8.5, which was the same rating they gave to the Emperors of the Wilds such as the Deep Emperor, the Flame Emperor and the Wind Emperor. Heck, it was the same rating Kor’ag, Mal’thor, Zor’khan and almost all the other Great Dragons of Sorrel II were rated at. The sole exceptions to that were Nil’rak-dras and Ra’oul-dras, both of whom might well be rated at Tier 9. [Blast it, Zar’khan-dras, look at what your greed let through the Portal!] Remian fumed to himself. [Just how powerful were the beings
There was a thud and a whoosh of gas on what appeared to be an empty landing pad. It wasn’t until the air shimmered that a sleek Frigate appeared, its rear bay doors already opening and hovering floater carts streamed out in an efficient manner. “Are you Remian Vin?” a voice from the left called. Remian turned to see a guy in work overalls and a baseball cap holding a clipboard. His face fell. “You’re… a projection?” “Yep. I’m not really in your world. I’m working from home.” The guy shrugged. “Apply a Psionic mark to confirm delivery, please…” Remian glanced over at the hovering carts, scanning them with a quick Psionic search. “Delivery confirmed. Say, is there any way I could borrow your comms? I still want to order more.” “I’m afraid not. The Dropship only carries necessary goods and my comms are at home with me. Isn’t this in Draconian space? I’m afraid we’re entire Star Regions away from each other.” “Don’t you have a Psionic rel
As it turned out, the Song Clan favored cold weapons over firearms or even crossbows. They especially liked cheap mass-produced synthmetal javelins, precisely balanced and weighed for throwing. Carbyne-edged swords and axes did very well too, and a few asked for polearms tipped with Carbyne. Generally, these weapons could be classified as Tier 5 or 6 types, except for one particular pure Carbyne broadsword, which might just slip into Tier 7. Ermine’s autofactories had churned out so many of those exact sort of weapons that her warehouses didn’t just have them stocked, they had them stacked. It was no issue for her to sell the Song Clan roughly a fifth of her stockpile. With that, Ermine not only got her pick of the meat and hides the Song Clan had preserved from the battlefield, she even came away with 450,000 Lir in coin. While the Migration no longer used Lir to trade (since they all used Clira), the New Dragon Empire and the Midlands warlords still did. If nothing
“How’s it going?” Remian asked the following day when he checked in on Alani and the others of Class 2 who were studying online with the Tau Nuts and Bolts Academy. Actually, no Alani wasn’t there. She was probably busy at Seven Lakes with the new Mankri Kelp and Flereo Mint. Given what else she had to handle, it would be surprising if she had time to properly study any more. Still, Remian wasn’t expecting top scores from her, only that she had a handle on what was what. Looking at the faces around him, Remian noted that Jamie looked like she was dying and Juni seemed to be sleeping. Gary was frowning, but relieved to see a distraction while Isabella actually seemed annoyed to be disturbed. As for Siti… she didn’t even seem to notice Remian arrive, she was so fixated on her screen. “Oh, come on, surely it can’t be that bad.” Remian eyed Jamie who looked ready to slump onto the floor. “It’s just elementary language and math, right? That’s kid stuff.” “
Three days later, Remian began his choosing process at Craggy Falls. “These are the candidates?” he asked Phoebe. There were twenty of them, lined up and looking polite and hopeful. All of them were below 13 years of age, supposedly had both interest and potential in electronics, and lived at Craggy Falls. Some of them were trailer park kids, others were the children of Adventurers, or members of the Church of Light, two were Sea People who knew Alani and one was even the bone fide youngest member of the original Circling Ravens gang. “There were more, but they couldn’t prove they had any knowhow with electronics. Some of them couldn’t even turn on a light switch.” Phoebe grimaced. “Their parents were most hopeful, but I couldn’t in good conscience count them in.” “Well, maybe next time. We can do another intake half a year from now, and again in a year. We’re going to need lots and lots of technicians, mechanics and engineers.” “I’ll let them
By then, there were reports of a Tier 5 Zombie Rising not far from Three Pines. Tier 4.5 Blood Hounds attacked perimeter defenses every day, and there were often Tier 4 Zombie Hounds running around in the open outside city limits. The Undead Infestation had gotten serious, and the warlords of the Midlands had practically hunkered down for a siege. While the Midlands were treating it as doomsday, Zar’khan-dras was conscripting every able-bodied man in the New Dragon Empire to become Undead Hunters. While little more than glorified militia with a different name, they were armed, and they were well-rewarded for every mana crystal they turned in. Droves of them pounced on every Undead Rising behind the barricaded borders of the previous Paleres and usually didn’t let a single zombie remain standing past a few hours after Rising. Fal’herim wasn’t much different. They too, had fortified all defenses and armed all the civilians. Every man, woman and child was at least armed
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