The first Lynx Mice reports started trickling in that evening.
Remian summarized it in his head, then glumly sat down at the far corner of the Guild Hall mumbling to himself for ten minutes straight. Mindy, George and Tim tried to give him privacy and space to think at first, but after a bit, Mindy’s concern and curiosity got the better of her and she went over to ask, “What happened?”
“It’s like this.” Remian squared off and spoke to her frankly. “The Lynxmice have thoroughly covered the entire East Side and divided it into four regions. The first region is the safest, where they need only worry about cats. There’s not much there, they say, just a lot of flour and old rations.”
“Uhuh.” Mindy nodded, still a bit blur.
“The second region is a little farther in to the East Side. There, they say that the humans drink more burning water than eat. There are a lot of humans in that area, and they like to chase Lynxmice around for no reason, or sometimes try
Meanwhile, Charlie brought Mandy and the kids home. After the relief airships dropped them and the casualties of Remian’s crew off at Fal’Herim, Charlie brought these few farther north, across the Midlands Sea, past the peninsula where the Iron Legion first rose up, to a particular city in the southern regions of Ashdale Kingdom. With the help of Deutero services, they were bundled into carriages and delivered safely to his family’s front door. “Charlie… this is the fifth girl you’ve brought home, but I’ve never seen one so badly beaten up before…” his mom noted as the servants wheeled Mandy in. “What did you do to her?” “It wasn’t me!” Charlie protested. “The town was attacked by Wilds. These are just some of the survivors.” Charlie’s family lived in a hilltop villa. Among their neighbors, theirs was the very highest on the hill. It wasn’t overly large, or anything; it was simply where Charlie, his parents, siblings, grandfather, and his brother’s wi
“Heave!” Markus called. “HO!” Ten trainees and forty workers chorused and tugged at several long ropes. With a crashing sound, boulders were dragged away from the mine entrance and two trainees with prospecting experience clambered into the re-opened tunnel. Remian watched them from where he sat atop Carrie. She and the wolfcats were running guard duty around the site of the nearer mine they had targeted earlier. Early scouts had reported that both mines had been sealed up, but could easily be re-opened. One mine was a Fire Copper lode; the other contained small deposits of jade. Both had previously been mined by the Kara-Goth family, who then sealed them up upon leaving the Frontier. They never came back. More than five years (more like fifty!) had passed since they left, thus all claims to these mines had long been forfeited. There were other mines, other claims, all over the Wildlands. Many of those mines had been claimed by different natio
“For your own safety, nobody is permitted south of the Mines of Kara-Goth!” a poster read in front of the Iron Legion camp. Below it was another poster; “Workers wanted, good pay, food and shelter provided, please contact Quarter-master Max at the Iron Legion camp.” A third poster next to that said, “Defense demonstration; the invincible airship gunboat ‘Foresight’ debuts Starday evening! Wilds cannot bite what they cannot reach!” followed by a few bullet points saying; ‘High-powered XL-ballista’, ‘Ammunition for 100 rounds’, ‘Tier 3-4 Wilds leather envelope’, ‘Ironwood deck’, ‘Frontier Town’s first custom-made ground-support battle airship!’. Remian considered that third poster which also sported a rough sketch of a ballista on it. One hundred rounds of ammunition was a bit of an exaggeration; that much ammo was only possible if they were leaving out all the other shooters and their weapons. If they wanted to put a squad of crossbowmen on the airship along with thei
Charlie brought the Roving Albatross in for a landing at the Frontier Town temporary airport. Ropes were dropped; workers began to tug his airship down from the sky and maneuvered down next to a long platform. Boarding ramps were extended and attached as the ship was tied down. “Nice ship!” Remian complimented, looking over it. Charlie grimaced. “Not as nice as I would have liked, but it’s all ours. You have a 40% share.” Now Remian grimaced. “How much do I owe?” “Eight million.” Charlie didn’t pull any punches. He showed Remian the bill and the loan receipt. “Bank interest rates are 10% per year.” Remian felt the blood drain from his face. 800,000 Lir in interest payments every year…! He suddenly felt like throwing up. “Relax. You’ve already made hundreds of thousands in a couple of weeks. At the rate we’ve been going…” Remian handed him a wooden box. Charlie sneaked a glance inside. “More mana potions? How many of these thing
They ended up agreeing to bring the families of the workers over as worker perks. They would not be paid, but they could live together. That ‘family’ would extend to the entire clan was an issue everybody was simply going to overlook. This also set a precedent for future workers, but Remian was fine with that. Frontier Town was severely underpopulated at the moment. Before the dust could settle, however, there was yet another surprise on the airship. This was the last passenger who got off the ship, a man dressed like one of the sea-people in a colorful short sleeve shirt sporting pictures of tropical fruit and khaki cargo shorts… “Kekoa! Who has seen Kekoa? Has anyone seen my brother?” the Sea Nation person went around asking everyone, showing them a picture. Remian frowned. He recognized that picture. That was the Sea Nation guy who didn’t quite make it here. “Have you seen Kekoa?!” this new Sea Nation person asked, shoving the picture at hi
The demonstration went well, with an abundance of cheers and applause. Mindy, Candice and Denise showed off the performance of the Foresight in motion, the XL Ballista, and the height advantages of a crossbowman on an airship. The important thing was, the Foresight could fly and could shoot. There were a few unexpected wobbles, but the XL Ballista proved capable of accurately spearing wooden targets from 300 meters away. The shots not only hit the targets, they struck with enough force to tear right through them. At 400, the accuracy dropped and the targets were hit off-center, but still tore through the wood like nothing. At 500, half the shots were glancing blows, but even they managed to knock the targets over sideways. At 600, Candice began to miss, hitting three out of five, and there the demonstration shifted over to Denise. Shooting one of Candice’s high-powered crossbows from 100 meters in the air, Denise actually managed to hit a target 500 meters away. She
First of all, one had to know that Tim was already at the East Side when the alarm drums sounded. No, wait, before that, it should be made known that Tim actually wasn’t supposed to be on the East Side. Remian had quite specifically told him that this would be his day off and to take it easy and go someplace safe or join the defenses as he liked. But to Tim, the safest place there was from an enemy attack would be the enemy’s own base; he wouldn’t attack himself, right? More importantly, there was still a lot of money in the money pool that he hadn’t stole- ahem! Appropriated for the Espionage Department yet. Since these gangsters were really their enemies, taking their resources and using them for your own side was simply sound military strategy; like Markus taught all the trainees, strategy was an important part of war that they had to learn. The amount of coins in the pool could flood the Lynxmice with cheese for generations to come. Already, Tim h
The wise and brave self-proclaimed ‘king of the Wildlands’ peeked his head out of his private den to witness a scene of absolute chaos. People, his people, were running around everywhere. “Aiiieeee!!” There in front of him was Abdul, garbed in only his underwear, running down the street yelling at the top of his lungs, being followed most earnestly by a Darkbok Antelope with its head humbly down and the pointy ends of its horns targeted most faithfully upon Abdul’s hinter areas. “Auuuu!!!” Beyond Abdul, the captain of today’s guard shift ran the other way, shrieking as he was similarly followed by a ‘faithful’ manticore. One ran left; one ran right – the pair of them crossed each others’ paths and did not so much as greet each other in passing. At least their pursuers were polite enough to pause and greet each other before pouncing upon their prey and… CHOMP. RIP. The ‘king of the Wildlands’ turned away, grimacing. The following scenes of nature in action were a little too natura
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