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2024-10-29 19:42:56The Eagle Lord and his kin were happy to see the Sky Trees. The main reason for that was the nourishing fog in their upper branches. The birds loved those, and used it in various ways from healing sicknesses and injuries to strengthening younglings. Phoebe said it should later be used to form special herb gardens known as Cloud Gardens, but until the Voices were ready for that, the Eagle Lord was happy to take advantage of it.
Of course, the prospect of these annoying humans finally getting off their nesting trees and onto their Sanctuaries was something he looked forward to as well. His daughter wasn’t quite so happy about it, and her mother gave him an earful about their daughter’s happiness, but the Eagle Lord permitted himself to be delighted about it behind their backs.
“Well, fine!” Sandra sniffed. “He wants us off his nesting trees, and we want a safe home when the Undead Infestation starts spawning Tier 5 and Tier 6 monsters. Let him have what he wants and th
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Kingdom of the Weak 489. Estuarte Arrival
As the hot sun blazed overhead, a black citadel descended from the skies. Six towers ringed the half-kilometer structure, sturdy metallic structures sporting tinted glass that extended down several floors. Even as it approached for a landing, smaller craft streamed out from an upper floor. Dozens of men in black leather and sunglasses rode heavy flying bikes equipped with magic jet engines that roared like thunder and spewed fire and smoke in their wake. “Why do our visitors always like to make an entrance?” Sior’khan-dras rolled his eyes. Remian shook his head wordlessly. Maybe there was some sophisticated reasoning about esteem and involved gains and benefits in some way? Or maybe they just wanted to have fun. Who knew? Just in case, he glanced over his shoulder at Death, noting that he was still a few steps away. Well, then, the arrival of these guys didn’t seem to be all that dangerous. The stream of flying bikes came to a landing and the
Kingdom of the Weak 490. Conference Call
That evening, Remian held a meeting. No, he wasn’t about to tell them about the Elves or his thoughts about leaving to save his life. What he told them was… “The Quarin are going to Unseal the Portal?!” Mindy was outraged. “How could they! If they do that, then… then…!” “We’re all gonna die.” Gammie said gloomily. Sandra whacked him over the head. They weren’t actually physically present. Sior had helped Remian set up a conference call. Thankfully, it used electricity, not mana. George coughed. “We have ways to survive, but we can’t say the same for everyone else.” “Can we stop them?” Darian queried. “Prevent them from reaching the Portal or undoing the Seal?” “Remember Ay’eni?” Remian grimaced. “There’s thousands like him in the Estuarte family, plus the Citadel they landed at the Starport is fully functional. There’s more of those in orbit, by the way, and maybe even bigger ships nearby.” Darian paused. “I’ll
Kingdom of the Weak 491. With Tau in mind
If the elves won’t come to him in time, then he would have to go to them himself! Remian began to plan a trip to Elenath Edhellen. Not for the hundreds of thousands he’d been trying to save all this time, but just for himself and Phoebe, maybe a few others at most. He called Ermine. “Can your cousin take passengers back to Tau space?” “What? Not without proper procedures, and a whole lot of legal paperwork! How many people are we talking about?” “Two. Phoebe and myself. Maybe three if you want to come along. I’m hoping to pass through to visit Elenath Edhellen.” “Just you two, huh?” Ermine considered. “Even if it’s just passing through, you’d need full decon and health screening, plus a travel pass. It’s going to cost, but it can be arranged. Mink’s next visit will be in a month. It will be tight, but I think we can get it all ready by then if we hurry. How long do you plan to stay and when would your return trip be?” “Uh… we really do
Kingdom of the Weak 492. Unexpected Passenger
Which was why, the next day, efforts on the Meorin Star Galleon skyrocketed. Nine different Woofer vessels and several support craft from Kanasu’s Mothership scurried about as easily a hundred Woofer experts got on the job adapting the Meorin ship for wolfcat use. “How long before it’s ready?” Remian asked JAD. “Since we don’t need a full overhaul, as long as the Tuskans keep helping, getting it to ‘just enough’ for your round trip should take about a week.” JAD assured him. “I’m rather surprised you’re willing to fork out the cash to rush the job, though.” “Everything is worth what the buyer is willing to pay for it.” Remian grimaced. It was a very popular slogan in the Conglomerate, from an ancient economist known as Adam Smith. Since the days of Original Terra, economists and businessmen across the galaxy learned the same principle, often to the detriment of many a penny-pinching customer. Along with replacing control systems, internal security, an
Kingdom of the Weak 493. Day after tomorrow
Over the next few days, demand for Woofer services went through the roof and then some. Woofer ships were hired at elevated prices for practically all the space logistics needs of Sorrel II. “Is there a reason why you’re paying double to rush ahead?” Three Paws had to ask. “It’s not like you’re ready to start putting up orbital infrastructure.” “Even so, we have to get as many contacts as we can.” Remian explained. “Before…” “Before what?” “Before we bring that Lich up to see Raoul’khan-dras.” Because as soon as that happened, they would have to declare an Interstellar Hazard and close the doors to all new traders. “Any idea when that’s going to happen?” “Day after tomorrow.” “Why so soon?” “The Lich is already chafing at the delays. That day is when the Meorin Galleon is ready for launch.” Remian cleared his throat. “Also, chances are that’s when Mink arrives.” Which, in turn, was also the day he
Kingdom of the Weak 494. Dark truths
In the blackness, Remian heard a voice like a cold rasp of steel. “You’re lying.” “What?” Remian blinked. “I’m not. It really wasn’t our fault!” “Not that. But you… are full of lies.” The metallic rasp said. “What are you talking about?” Remian had to ask. Before him floated a glimmer of a vision, a memory in the recent past. Shockingly it was a scene that had never been seen by anyone alive, could not possibly be known beyond the ones who were involved. It was a memory from when he died, and was talking to Death about his purpose in the Wildlands. Death had asked. “That’s why you started reading and learning? That’s why you went out to the Wildlands? To do your job?” “That... that was just testing my theory.” Remian had said. “If managing the world is truly our mandate…” He went on to talk about his noble purposes fulfilling his duties as a human before God. In the current blackness, Remian was gaping.
Kingdom of the Weak 495. In Hand
When Remian first died, it was God who returned him to life. At that point he understood that it was God who had the power to decide his life and death. Therefore he sought to do what God wanted of him, of mankind. That way, maybe, just maybe… God would permit him to live longer. It seemed to work. The next time or two that he died, God actually restored his life. Each time it happened, Remian clung ever tighter to his cause. “I just want to live.” There! It was a simple truth; all his efforts had been for nothing more than his own survival. That was why, when the chance came to save his life and leave his world, cause and people behind, he planned to leave even if it was possible he might never return. Because it was never about them or his vaunted duty. It was always about saving his own life. He had excuses, of course. Reasonable, honorable excuses like having successors to carry on his mission, or even better, leaving in order to give the next generation room to grow… endless
Kingdom of the Weak 496. First Time in a Mech
From the outside, the Acrobat might very well just have been a statue made of metal. There was nothing to indicate that it was anything else or could be anything else than that. But once inside the cockpit, Remian turned it on and the Acrobat seemed to come to life. Senses from sensors and the options of equipment and motion were immediately offered up to Remian. “Well… this is a surprise.” Remian blinked. The control method of the Acrobat wasn’t a panel of buttons or a wheel or stick. It was a Control Sphere. That meant Remian was somewhat suspended in mid-air in a heavily wired suit meant to relay all his movements to the Acrobat to imitate. It had taken two Wolfcat technicians some ten minutes to properly set him up (user registration and identification included) followed by another few minutes to run diagnostics before Remian braved the inevitable and vocally instructed the Acrobat to activate. “All green. Good to go!” the techs scrambled to get o
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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
- Kingdom of the Weak
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
- Kingdom of the Weak
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
- Kingdom of the Weak
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
