Coast on Fire

by Tao Wong

  “Lord Bima or Lord Uwa?” I send to Ali, unsure of how to answer him.

  “Neither. Just Uwa. That’s not a noble name, just a title.”

  “Well, I’m sure you’ve all read the offer,” Donna says now that the initial pleasantries are over. Among the earlier correspondence passed was our one-page ceasefire offer.

  “Yes. I believe you Americans prefer a blunt answer?” Before we can correct him, Uwa’s already continuing. “A peace settlement on your terms is unacceptable. The City Core we hold has already cost us a significant amount of resources.”

  “But that cost is a sunk cost,” Donna says, leaning forward on the lounging chair. “Continued war will increase such cost, with little return.”

  “But the cost to you is high as well. In addition, control of a City Core provides significant non-Credit advantages,” Uwa retorts.

  I watch the pair spar, arguing for a few more minutes about what, to me, seems an obvious conclusion. They’re willing to do this, or else there’s no point in dragging us out here. Irritated, I fiddle with my inventory, pulling out some chocolate. I pop a piece into my mouth, only to get a slight smile from Rikard.

  “Did our food not suit your needs?” Rikard asks, drawing the attention of the other three.

  I swallow the chocolate, refusing to look at Donna’s glare. “Nothing like that. Call it a bad habit for when I get bored.”

  “Bored?” Quatta breathes, her voice high and pitchy.

  “Yeah. I’m not a big fan of arguing over what seems to be a given. You guys are willing to sue for peace. The question is, what do you want? Just tell us, rather than talking in circles.”

  “But we are negotiating…” Uwa pauses, eyes focused a few feet in front of him. “Ah. I see. You are even more blunt than expected. I shall have to update our protocols.”

  Donna hisses, waving her hands slightly while shooting me a glare. “Please, Mr. Uwa, don’t base your protocols on John. He is unusual even for us humans.”

  I grunt, refusing to apologize or back down from my initial question. “So?”

  “Very well. We are willing to stop aggressive actions against you. The corporation is not willing to expand hostilities with the Kingdom, and as such, we do not agree to aid you in attacking them. We will give up the City Core, giving you majority control of the city, but require adequate compensation. That includes land in your settlements, Redeemer,” Uwa says.

  “How much land?”

  “Well, that is a matter to be negotiated.” Uwa seems to straighten in his chair, frills and hair tucking closer to his body.

  “Arse,” I mutter but don’t protest any further, gesturing for Donna to take over. Even I’m not dumb enough to think that we won’t have to talk about this a bit. Still, being the dumb, impatient hick means that this entire conversation had sped up more than I could have reasonably expected.

  The negotiation continues between Uwa and Donna, the pair starting with the number of settlements then switching to specific settlements, lot sizes, building types, addresses, and more. Even I can tell that there are details that will need more time, more research to be completed. The fact that a good portion of this discussion includes my settlements also means that my people will need to get involved.

  The conversation takes hours, and in the meantime, I’m giving Rickard and Quatta a lesson in proper meeting foods. Cheese, crackers, a wide variety of chocolates, and pork rinds appear as we talk.

  Uwa and Donna call it as the day gets closer to the end. There are too many details to finish by themselves, but at least for now, a broad agreement has reached. As such, the trio leads us to the exit.

  That’s when I grab my chance to ask a question that has been bugging me. “Why did you agree?”

  “A simple calculation about the return on investment across the options provided. With your current settlements, especially Vancouver with its dungeon, we expect to see a significant return in the future for much lower on-going expenses if we can reach an agreement. If this agreement is successful, upper management has indicated that we might be willing to negotiate for additional locations,” Uwa says. “Obviously, that would depend on your continue expansion and success.”

  “Of course.”

  “Careful there, boy-o. That’s how the Yerrick lost. They kept giving out land, and they eventually found themselves bought out of their own cities.”

  “I remember,” I say while smiling and saying goodbye. After all, there’s no guarantee that that is what the Uvrik corporation is actually considering. And pigs may fly.

  Chapter 8

  You’d think that something already agreed upon in principal would be fast to negotiate. Even with everyone’s earnest desire to get this done, the final peace treaty took weeks to complete. And that’s with significant cribbing by Kim and Ali from other Galactic agreements and Donna’s 24/7 work ethic. The woman even Leveled twice during the entire process. But in the end, we had a signed and vetted agreement that covered timing, penalties, land trades, Credit payments, tax exemptions, and more. Frankly, if we hadn’t used the Shop to get the entire thing vetted by a third-party Galactic Barrister, I’d have been afraid to sign it.

  During this entire time, the Kingdom refused to talk to us. In fact, the little goblin-asses picked up the tempo of their attacks, forcing us to deploy even more people to their border. Since the damn halflings are refusing to talk to us and the Uvrik already know about me, there’s little reason for me to stay hidden any further. It’s even likely they’ve bought enough information from the Shop that they know I’m here. Finally, the council lets me loose. That, of course, brought its own problems, including a couple of targeted ambushes. All those attacks were beginning to feel a little personal, but at the same time, it’s kind of hard to get really angry at people who are, like, three and a half feet tall. But trust me, they sure do try.

  Which of course leads us to today and the attack we’ve planned. Now that we have a peace agreement in place with the Uvrik and no contact with the Kingdom, it’s time for us to finish this. Which leaves me on this blasted street, fighting off another damn swarm of halflings.

  “Get. Off. Me,” I snarl, kicking and punting the halfling through the air.

  I send a burst of projectile fire after the spinning body, and the impacts of the explosive projectiles throw the body on a new, bloody trajectory. Even as my attacker falls away, another little bastard charges me with a tiny serrated knife and plunges it into Sabre’s beleaguered thigh armor.

  “Chain Fireball,” a voice intones behind me, all the warning I get before a sphere twice the size of a basketball flashes past me and splits into five smaller spheres which head off in different directions and explode. The explosion throws me and the swarm of halflings apart, making Sabre’s damage board flash red all over.

  “Arse,” I snap, dragging the poor mecha back into my inventory with a thought.

  Two hours into our attack on the Kingdom and my trusty mecha has seen better days. A part of me notes that it’ll likely come back with additional resistances against edged and fire damage, while another points out that there’s a reason why the previous version of the PAV had easily replaceable armor parts. It’s going to be weeks before Sabre is back in action.

  “You good?” Chetan says, his Indian accent coming through even more clearly under stress, his fingers shifting as he hand-casts a healing spell on me.

  Dealing with the Mages from Seattle is frustrating, since none of us is coordinated in our actions or decisions. I hate fighting with new people, but they’ve been assigned to me since they’re a decent stopgap while my team provides heavier firepower.

  “Warning first, damn it!” I snarl.

  When Chetan taps his ear, I realize the helmet is too damaged to transmit and I do a quick swap with another copy before repeating my angry answer.

  Chetan Patel (Level 8 Life Mage)

  HP: 301/340

  MP: 1733/2830

  Conditions: Gaia’s Embrace, Anaerobic Surplu
s, Mana Drip

  “Sorry about that,” Daniel says as he walks up.

  I glance back at the Vietnamese-born mage who—thanks to the gene editing purchase—stands shoulder-to-shoulder with me. Swirling around him are small fire elementals. I’ve seen those fire elementals flash forward and intercept beam attacks and rubble, absorbing attacks and leaving Daniel untouched.

  “We needed them clear,” Daniel says. “The colonel has new orders for us. We’re needed at 45 St and 8th Ave. Southwest for both.”

  Daniel Nguyen (Level 11 Fire Conjurer)

  HP: 237/280

  MP: 2803/3400

  Conditions: Embrace of the Sun, Mana Drip, Roving Flames

  “That’s right across the city!” I grumble, my map updating with the new directions. Our scouts, who’ve backtracked since we got held up by this ambush, wave us forward, and we comply. “Which idiot decided to name everything using numbers and compass directions?”

  I get a shrug from the two Mages who match my pace. Thankfully for them, we’re forced to keep to a slower pace as our scouts try to get us around the fiercest of the fights. That, according to the damn colonel, isn’t my job. No, I’m just a giant transportation machine. Pulling a beam rifle from my inventory after a thought, I keep my eyes swivelling left and right in search of threats the scouts might have missed—or who, like the ambush party, moved in our direction since they left.

  “We getting reinforcement for our team?” Chetan pants, his Stamina obviously not up to snuff. Running and fighting as much as we have done has obviously taught him to sink more points into Constitution the next time he Levels.

  “No idea. Why don’t you ask?” Daniel suggests sweetly.

  Chetan grimaces, knowing that he’d get another “we’re working on it” answer. “We’re Mages damn it, not tanks. We’re DPS at best, long-range support. They could have at least given us Mike.”

  I grin, recalling the overweight programmer who had classed in as a Druid. The first time we released him, Mike had been in his dire bear form, a minibus-sized transformation that smashed its way through the Kingdom’s hardest strong point via brute strength.

  “How’s your Mana?” Lancer 3’s voice cackles in my ear.

  I admit, I had to giggle a little internally when he was first introduced to me as my point of contact. I’ll admit it’s juvenile, but calling the soldiers by Lancer 6 or Lancer 3 or the like just made me smile. “Okay.”

  “Numbers.”

  “Five eighty-seven and increasing.”

  “Get it up to at 750 at least. We need you to open the Portal at 14 and 33rd, then we’ll need another Portal to the Saddledome from Westbrook Mall once the teams have done mop-up there. Coordinates are being updated on your map.”

  I nod, reaching to my Mana Bracer and pulling out another fifty or so Mana. That should easily put me in the range they need before we reach them. Unfortunately, I’m realizing just how little an additional three hundred Mana is in such a long battle. “Do we join the mop-up?”

  “If it’s not complete yet, yes. We need those troops over at the Saddledome.”

  “And me?”

  The Saddledome is where nearly half of our imported forces are. The high Level Basics and any Advanced fighters we brought are locked into a battle to free the dome and the City Core from the Kingdom. Unfortunately, the Kingdom seems to have dumped a ton of money into defenses on those buildings—never mind how big they are naturally—and our people have been bogged down.

  “We’ll let you know. Over,” Lancer 3 says curtly.

  “That—” I begin, then realize he’s already left. If he was talking to me directly, things must be urgent. A quick mental switch and I’m on the team’s frequency. “Let’s pick up the pace.”

  We come in on 13th Ave to see Westbrook Mall wreathed in flames, the northern half crushed and mostly rubble. Explosions, gouts of flame, and a cyclone of debris greet us, the roar of spells, Skills, and explosives drowning out most of the screams as we hit 37th St. Most.

  “Where’s the team?” Chetan asks, panting a little as we come to a stop.

  “Get your asses under cover.” Wride fades in from the shadows near the corner, his crossbow held loosely in his arms, green army fatigues somehow blending in even in the grey concrete. We scramble to take cover, reminded to do so now that we aren’t running headlong, as he says, “Our targets are inside. The damn halfies are fighting inside the mall and blowing it up as our people push them back.”

  Elliot Wride (Level 44 Apprentice Ranger)

  HP: 1788/2300

  MP: 450/450

  Conditions: Urban Spirit, System Shadow, Eagle Eye

  I crane my neck around, getting a hiss from Wride, but I ignore him. Anyone who wants to take a potshot at me will have to get through my restored Soul Shield. Still, I don’t hang my head out too long.

  “We’ve got to get to them,” I say.

  “Jess is scouting it now,” Wride says. A moment later, our maps update, new route markers appearing. I frown, staring at them, which makes Wride stop from moving off. “What?”

  “We’re going around,” I say.

  “Yes. We’re going to flank the halfies,” Wride says as he tilts his head to stare directly at me. “Is that a problem?”

  Dots move on my minimap, red and blue, enemies and friendlies. I can see the force concentrations, the numbers. Hell, I can even see where the damn halflings are on the map. A few explosives into the wall, Lightning Strike, Chain Fireballs, and then a Blink Step in would finish this, with less of our people down. I could finish this fight in a minute. But then I’d have blown half of my remaining Mana and probably lose my Soul Shield, which would require me to refresh it, which would put me well below what Wier needs me for.

  “Nothing.” I grit my teeth, shaking my head.

  It pisses me off, not being able to help more. I feel helplessness as I condemn some of the fighters within to death just so that we can throw the survivors into the grinder again a few seconds later.

  Miners nods then pops up, checking out the surroundings before he takes off, slipping from cover to cover in full view of us. I know he’s doing it to let us know where to move, annoying as it might be to be schooled like this. But he’s the expert. I just kill things.

  By the time we get to the mall’s southern entrance, Jess has disarmed the traps laid across the entrance, dealt with the pair of watchers they kept out, and found us an entrance. Even as we slip in, I have to admire the Advanced Level Ranger and his effectiveness. The man might not be as tough in a stand-up fight as I am, but damn is he good at his job.

  Together, Miners and Jess move ahead of us even as the sound of battle approaches. Within seconds, we’re in our ambush spots, the pair highlighting our positions in our maps. Not a moment too soon since the first of the halflings appear a moment later. Jess has us hold our fire even as the halflings take position a bare twenty meters ahead of us.

  Absently, I twist the beam rifle in my hand, debating which spells I could use as I eye my designated zone of fire. The journey took just over three minutes, returning another three hundred or so Mana to me. That’s good enough for a Blink Step in close and then Blade Strikes. Or an Inferno Beam into the biggest cluster. They’re too spread out for Lightning Strike to be particularly cost effective. I could Mud Wall them, but that’d be hard to move through later, so I nix that idea.

  My thoughts are interrupted as the halflings lay down covering fire, another group rushing toward their prepared positions. I grin, knowing that Chetan’s spell and Kelly’s Skill are still hiding us from their own sensors.

  “Now!” Jess snaps over the comms.

  There’s just over fifteen halflings in front of us, most having barely gotten themselves under cover before we let loose. A beam of white-hot fire flies from my hands as Wride holds down the trigger on his crossbow, bolts slamming through the bodies of the halflings and piercing their defenses. Jess uses a more traditional assault rifle, System-registered bullets tearing
into their backs. In his corner, Daniel goes for something a little more cinematic, an elemental fire wyrm that comes to life and whips around to lay waste to the halflings.

  The initial shock sees us add a few of the injured to our kill count, but the halflings react well. They spin about, taking cover and returning fire, only to find that their initial attackers are charging them. After a moment, I realize that Jess probably warned the other team too, letting them coordinate with us. Rather than stand and fight, the halflings break, charging us in a mad scramble that our combined firepower is insufficient to stem. A few harried minutes later, with me resorting to my blade as the last couple manage to get into melee distance, we’re done.

  The rescued team has barely caught their breath before I’ve got the Portal open to send them to their next fight. Ten seconds after that, we’re on the road again, feet slapping asphalt as we head to our next objective.

  It’s not the kind of fight I like. But as I glance at the ground we’ve gained and the kill count Ali has been quietly updating, I realize it might be the kind of fight we need.

  “All right, Redeemer,” Lancer 3’s voice comes an hour and a half later as I get ready to open another Portal for a group of weary fighters. I’d have done it already, but they needed a moment to sort themselves out. “You’re cleared to follow the squad.”

  “To the Saddledome?” I say slightly incredulously. Finally!

  “Yes. There’s an obstacle your particular Skills are needed for,” Lancer 3 says. I make a mental note to look at his Status and get his name next time. “You will be briefed when you arrive.”

  “Got it,” I say, waving to the group around me.

  A quick briefing and a shuddering passage through the Portal later, we’re a block and a half away from the Saddledome. The other team starts down a side street with their own orders while we follow the updated map details on ours.