Welcome to 2024! Finally the 2024 rewrite is completed, pretty much everything from ch500 to here has been rewritten. At this point, I've got no idea how far this story is going to go, but clearly it's not stopping at 500 as planned.
When Remian Vin died and faced his Creator, he wept. “God, not like this!” One of the nearby celestial beings spoke. “It is given for man to live and to die. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. It is the natural order.” “But not now! Not like this! I haven’t done anything worthwhile with my life! I’ve been weak from young, always a burden to my family! People have been kind to me yet I’ve done nothing to pay them back! I can’t die like this! I need to do something for them!” “What worth could your life have, if you remained? What would be the point of returning you to such a weak, frail body? Move on, and leave the past behind.” “I’ll… I’ll make it worth something. I don’t know how long I can last, but I want to make it worth something!” “When?” “Today!” Remian gasped, waking up with cold sweat. His heart thumped painfully in his chest, pain wracking his body as he sat up in bed. Was it real? Was it just a drea
Fort Spoas was a town overlooking a steep cliff over a river. With a steep hill on the west side and the desert to the north, all it really needed was a good wall to the south to form a formidably defensible position. As they were coming in for a landing on the desert side of the fort, the passengers gathered near the exit ramp, and one Iron Legionnaire spoke. “Tan, are you a settler?” The archer from the Empire spoke. “No. I am an adventurer.” “But you are planning to stay here, on the Frontier, are you not?” Tan coughed. “I have nowhere else to go. I cannot return.” “Whatever the reasons for you to be here, the Iron Legion would like to hire you as an informant. We need agents to be our eyes and ears here on the Frontier.” “What interest does the Iron Legion have in this place?” Tan asked. “Opportunity. Just like you.” “I’ll do it.” Remian offered. “I’ll be your informant. It is a paid job, isn’t it?” “It is.”
“You’re in luck.” Max grunted as Remian arrived at the Iron Legion camp at the north side of town bordering the desert with only the token and the shirt on his back. “We just happen to have some extra clothes you could use.” He brought out an oddly familiar looking package. Some leathers and furs, a worn-out bow and a quiver half-filled with arrows, and a broken axe… “That… isn’t that Tan’s…?” Remian pointed. “It was.” Max nodded agreeably. “He’s dead. Got into a fight with a local gang boss in the first tavern he came across. We got there in time to get him away, but he died of his injuries. Didn’t last an hour.” Max eyed him. “What happened to you?” “Got robbed.” Remian grimaced. “At least you survived. There’s something to be said for being weak.” Max grunted. “How did you get the shirt?” “Made a new friend.” Remian shrugged. “Even made friends? Huh. You might last quite a while yet.” Max scratched his head. “
“Remian… is that... a Wild on your shoulder?” Max rubbed his eyes as if doubting them.“Uh… long story.” Remian said sheepishly.Max and the cub exchanged glances. The cub grinned cheekily.“Is that… the barbecue thief?!” Max guessed.“Yeah. Animals would die for food.” Remian shrugged.“Well, you’re not giving it any of my food.” Max grouched. “You can do your own trapping from now on, I’ll loan you some traps and you can feed it whatever you catch on your own.”Remian sighed, turned to the cub that was sitting on his left shoulder. “Now look what you’ve done. I officially have to become a trapper.”The cub let out a small, apologetic whine.“Also, you better explain to Markus before he kills your little furball.” Max went on. “We’re actually preparing to kill a lot of Wilds tonight
Remian turned to the dark figure laying down on the ‘empty’ bed next to him as Kairos went off to find him some food. “What are you doing here?” “Taking a break.” Death answered. “I’ve was rather busy last night.” Remian’s face fell. “How many? How many died because of me?” Death paused, counting. “Three.” “Three? Who were they?” Remian regretted losing control to such an extent. “Irontusk, Third Boar Alpha of the Iron Bristle Boar tribe. He was fighting Markus and Max when you burned a foot-wide hole in him with your light bolt.” Death began. “Ssi-ruuvi, two-headed Acid/Venom Serpent of Forktwig Marsh. They were trying to provide Irontusk some support. A bit more and they could have killed Markus.” “Wait. They were Wilds? Are you saying my Light spell killed Wilds?!” Remian stared. “Not humans?” “No humans were harmed by your magic.” Death said. “Although a lot of them couldn’t see for a few minutes. Some of them were in
“It is ridiculous!” Markus roared at someone in the Iron Legion command tent the next day. “The town wall is in no shape to defend the town! How many lives could have been saved if we could have relied on it? How many more lives will be sacrificed before somebody does something about that useless wall?” “The town wall is not our responsibility.” Someone replied defensively. “Neither is the protection of the town! We were good enough to offer manpower to help out last night and what happened? Half our crew were killed, the other half were all injured! Yet you want us to pay for a new wall, now?” “Or at least spare the manpower to help us build it ourselves!” “We can’t spare any more manpower!” “You mean, you’re too afraid of the other gangs to spare anyone!” “Exactly! The moment we let down our guard, the moment our defenses weaken, we are done for!” Remian scratched his head as he approached Max. “That sounds like a big argument.”
There were five gangs in Frontier Town; Burning Steel, Cruel Rose, Blood Claw, Circling Raven and Secret Waves. Cruel Rose and Circling Raven were based in the north, Secret Waves to the East, with Burning Steel and Blood Claw to the west. It was generally agreed that of the five, Burning Steel was the strongest, simply because they had four Slayers. Cruel Rose and Blood Claw had three each; Circling Raven and Secret Waves only had two. In the minds of many, this meant that Circling Raven and Secret Waves were the weakest gangs, even though Circling Raven supposedly had the largest numbers. As for Secret Waves… they had the least numbers, and the least Slayers. Remian was curious as to how they survived the hostility of the other gangs for so long. That was why, when he set out to meet the bosses, he started on the East side. The East Side of Frontier Town was a jagged row of houses and shoplots on a sheer cliff extending over a river. It could be pretty, if
“Remian! Are you all right?” Max found him panting on the road in the middle of the north side, wheezing for breath with his face completely red. “Just… tired…” Remian managed. “And stupid.” “What do you mean, ‘stupid’?” Max was baffled. “I went and… implicated a Wild… without asking it.” Remian huffed. “She was just… too pretty.” “Huh. Well, you won’t be the first guy around town who had is brains scrambled by a girl. Just tell me that she wasn’t Cruel Rose.” “What?” Remian blinked. “That girl. Her name wasn’t Rose, was it?” “No, it was Mandy.” “Good.” Max sighed with relief. “If it was Rose, we’d all be done for, one way or the other. “Who’s Rose and why is she so dangerous?” Remian asked. “Rose is the boss of the Cruel Rose gang. They deal with… people.” Max said vaguely. “Doesn’t everyone?” Remian frowned. “That’s what trade is, right?” “Not if the goods are the people themsel
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