by Tao Wong
In the northeast, there are no friendly dots left. All our scouts, all the men tasked with keeping that flank safe are gone. Even the dots that were there before have disappeared, some replaced with red and others gone as if they were never there. Now, the ridge is filled with Galactics shooting into the obscuring smoke, laying down suppressive fire as another group rushes in to engage us in melee combat. As Ali spins around, I spot the teams that haven’t been caught in the initial trap blocked off, walled away from the fight by a Skill that creates a towering, translucent wall that constantly shifts in size, sending out spikes to lash out at our men.
“Boy-o…” Ali highlights one particular figure on the cliff, flashing him in a rainbow outline repeatedly.
The distance is a bit too far to make out details beyond its raised hands that just look wrong and a tail. One thing I do note is that next to him is a team of spellcasters forming a ritual circle.
“Master Class?”
“Either that or he’s got one hell of a spell. That wall is his,” Ali states.
As he speaks, I watch a spike erupt from the wall, punching through the chest of the female melee fighter who’s been whaling on it with her mace. A moment later the spike enlarges, tearing the woman apart in a shower of gore, splattering all those around with her innards.
“Asshole,” I snarl. With a thought, Sabre transforms around me even as I traverse the smoke-filled terrain. “Jump lines, Blink, Portal,” I mentally command my helmet, the software over-layering cylindrical domes ahead of me to indicate the max distances for my Skills. It’s a minor adjustment that I came up with since Calgary, a little advantage to help my spells. Before I trigger either of my Skills, I check that both shields are fully activated.
Once ready, I use Ali’s viewpoint to Blink Step into the air above the smoke, giving me a moment to view the battle fully. As I fall, I thrust out a hand and launch a fireball into an approaching team of Galactics, Ali swooping past me as he attempts to close the distance to skip ahead again. Not that I need it—the Galactics are barely a few hundred meters away.
An icon flashes on my helmet—a lock and a figure stepping through a doorway. Before I can consciously understand what it means, I’ve triggered Blink Step to put me close to the cliff face. It’s a mistake. As I use Blink Step, a molecular grater is taken to every cell in my body, leaving tiny tears all over my prone form.
“Quantum lo… never mind.” Ali’s warning is just as late as my own realization.
My body curls up in shock while nerves scream and limbs twitch.
“Redeemer, we’ve identified a Master Class individual on the field. Details have been forwarded,” Alvarez’s voice cackles over the communicator too late. Not that he’s slow—it’s only been a short while since this has started.
I have no time to complain about my codename or explain my side of the story, the flicking danger signal showing that the Galactics haven’t ignored my mistake. Spells and explosions slam into me again and again, and with a force of will, I roll and twist to get away.
“Kill him!” The roar from above tells me I’m definitely targeted.
“Time to go, boy-o,” Ali mutters.
“Trying…” I grunt, then trigger the sonic pulser and a quartet of mini-missiles.
Those missiles don’t get far, the barrage of explosives tearing them apart. Luckily, they’re loaded with one of Carlos’s concoctions, a mixture of alchemical poison and high-density, signal-retardant smoke. Scrambling aside, I trigger Thousand Steps, boosting my movement speed for a few precious seconds.
“Redeemer, I have reports that you’re under attack. Help is on the way. Teams one and four are waiting on the Portal,” Alvarez’s voice cackles over the communicator again.
“Can’t,” I growl, scanning the notification as I scramble away while laying down my own covering fire and refreshing my Soul Shield. “Quantum lock. Spell. Advanced Class team.”
“Copy. Artillery is ranging. Brace for splash in five. Over,” Alvarez says, entirely too calm.
While I’m not a soldier, I can understand what he means by context and I’m not happy. On the other hand, the Galactics are significantly less so when our men, recovered from the sudden attack, return fire with our own version of artillery. Which in some cases is actual artillery and mortar shells.
The rippling explosion throws me backward, putting me into a backward roll that is aided by the spherical shield surrounding me. Sabre’s shield is down, only the newly refreshed Soul Shield saving me from further injury. Even under the protection of the sound dampeners in my helmet and the Soul Shield, my ear rings and my body throbs in sympathy with the explosions. For all that, the quantum lock continues to hold.
“Redeemer. Results? Over.”
“Lock is still on.”
“Teams two and five are en route to your position. We have released eight Advanced Class teams to deal with the surprise attack. Communication and visual surveillance of the vanguard has been compromised. Do you have further updates?” Alvarez calls.
In the corner of my mind, I’m sure Wier and Miller are dealing with the rest of the military forces, but I’m a touch busy to tune in there.
“Ali…”
“Updates are all routing to you and Sabre. But their smoke is throwing up some real interference. All I can say is, hurry!”
“I’m feeding you what I can. Ali says the information’s unreliable. Just hurry,” I say, dancing backward as I spot three teams braving the still-falling artillery to advance on my position. “Got to dance. I’ll Portal people in once I can.”
“Understood. Out.”
Watching the three teams rush me, spells, projectiles, and other killing attacks reaching for me, I make a quick decision. With my higher Agility, Thousand Steps, and Sabre’s anti-gravity plates and jets, I could stay away from the teams and pull them apart by letting the faster fellows chase me while I blast them. Kite and kill. Except they’ve got healers and I don’t and their range damage dealers could probably do some real damage if I let this go on too long. And let’s face the facts. Running away just isn’t what I do.
Rushing my attackers, I open up with more mini-missiles, watching my stock of pre-loaded missiles drop again. Still, the explosives do their job, throwing the group into disarray as they dodge, close their eyes, and overall attempt to ride out the blast. Two steps to the right leaves me bypassing the lead group, dodging between the trio while I drop a couple of grenades behind me. Chaos grenades sow salt water taffy, a gremlin, and a block of solidified magma in my wake.
Then I’m among the other pair of teams, dancing through them and firing the Inlin whenever I can while swinging my sword. The first Jarack dodges then breaks into a wide grin as it realizes my diagonal cut will miss him. What he doesn’t realize till too late is that the four blades trailing along behind all have his name on them. Even a last-minute dodge is insufficient for him to escape damage.
In the midst of the group, I dance, blades appearing and disappearing as I cut and twist, leaving a trailing array of flying blades behind me. Spells and Skills are triggered as fast as I can, Cleave cutting apart a spellcaster and sending it flying into its friends. Fireballs targeted at the epicenter of the group wash over me and them, dealing pain and confusion in equal amounts.
The teams I’m fighting are dangerous, high Level Basic fighters that chip and damage Sabre. I have to pull the mecha back after a while, scared that the PAV will be wrecked before we start the real war. In my armored skinsuit, I fight, Blink Stepping and calling forth Lightning Bolts even as the teams attempt to kill me. I’m constantly throwing up my Soul Shield as it shatters, drawing upon the Mana Battery recklessly while I fight.
And all along, I get glimpses of the larger battle. The smoke from the initial attack is slowly dissipating, reinforcements shattering a hole in the transparent wall and additional Skills holding it apart. The Zarrie pull back as the tide of battle turns against them while ranged spells fall against their prepared position. Anothe
r ritual spell is enacted when the majority of our enemies have fallen back, the spell completed a second after the quantum lock is released. And then our attackers are gone.
At that point, the remainder of the team I’m fighting throws down their weapons, as do the rest of those left behind. Their surrender leaves us with no outlet for our wrath as the mangled remains of our friends remind us that this time, we lost.
Chapter 14
Hours after the attack, we pull the army together and get moving. We change the way we do things, with the scouts on our flanks significantly increased and more frequent check-ins. In addition, each team is now able to watch each other, the zones they’re scouting reduced to allow this to happen. And there are more changes, drones and Skills put into place while we recover from the attack that took out nearly a third of the vanguard. Too many damn teams, too many people.
For all that, when Miller makes the call, I’m not surprised. The Portal back to have the conversation in person is quick.
“General,” I greet Miller, who is bent over the System-generated map, muttering orders to his people.
“Mr. Lee. Thank you for coming,” Miller says as he walks over to me. “It looks like the next step of the operation must begin earlier than we expected.”
“Sounds good,” I say, flashing him a grim smile. “If I knew what it was.”
“Ah, yes.” Miller shrugs unapologetically and waves me over to look at the map. “We’ll need you to leave the teams for now. For the next step, you’ll need both your team and Sargent Johnson’s.”
“I thought they were part of the Master Class kill groups.”
“They were,” Miller says. “Now, you’ll need them to help you get into LA itself. The following route is what we’d recommend…”
“Miller…” I say warningly, unhappy about how obtuse he’s being. I understand the need for it, but he’s asking me to bring my friends into the middle of the lions’ den. And as we have learned, they are more than ready to deal with my Skills.
“Mr. Lee, you are skilled. High Leveled. A veritable god of war on the battlefield from what my men say,” Miller says, meeting my eyes. “But right now, you’re a soldier. Now, you can decide to be an officer, to make the decisions and run this battle. And if you do, I’ll step aside.” I see more than a few of his men shift, obviously uncomfortable with his words. “Because there can’t be more than one commander, not at this time. But you chose to step aside earlier, and I cannot, will not, have more of my men risk their lives if you are going to change your mind in the middle of the operation.”
I grit my teeth, my temper flaring as he calls me to the carpet. A part of me wonders why he didn’t do it somewhere else, somewhere more private. But mostly, I’m thinking. Thinking of what he said, of the decisions I’ve made. Miller’s right. Stepping aside to let the army personnel run the fight was a deliberate choice, one based on the belief that they know what they’re doing better than I do. Now, we’re bloodied and hurt and our people have died. And maybe I could have done something better, and maybe I couldn’t have. But here I am, jostling his elbow because now he’s putting the people I care about in danger. Now, I’ve got to risk more than my life, and I realize that doubt is eating away at me. Not knowing, not understanding is making me question when I shouldn’t.
I can either accept that he’s in charge or I can take over. What is is. Choose or not, but I can’t keep coming back to it. Once again, I go over the reasons why I stepped aside. My lack of training. My lack of people skills. My lack of knowledge of the Skills and people involved. The crushing responsibility and guilt for all the lives that will be lost. And perhaps most importantly of all, my final goals. Running the war, running each battle in the USA is not important. Not for me.
I exhale raggedly, pushing aside the anger and the petty jealousy. The desire to be the one in charge. The doubt that we’re being hung out to dry. My personal doubts about authority. There’s a war to fight and me questioning Miller is not helping. “Sorry. Tell me what needs to be done.”
“Good,” Miller says.
He gestures to one of the aides, who hurries out of the room, before he turns back to the table, a glowing green line appearing at his gesture. The line charts where he wants me to go, the locations I need to hit. While I upload the data into my HUD and memorize the route, I also spend time assessing it, making mental notes for areas of particular interest. A hill here, a tall building there, a dam another place.
Before I can ask any questions, I’m interrupted by the presence of three new individuals. They’re all entertainers—two Actors and a Performer, I realize. I frown, curious, but Miller shakes his head.
“Give them your hand, Mr. Lee.”
I grunt and do so, watching as the first touches it. I feel a surge of Mana wash over me, one that is mostly benign in nature. Rather than resist it, I let it penetrate me, knowing that Miller must have a reason. One after the other, the entertainers touch me, step back, and nod to Miller before they are dismissed.
“I’m not getting an explanation, am I?”
“No.”
“Figured,” I grumble slightly, intrigued but silent for now.
You’d think that a single settlement shield, a piece of technology that lays a wall of force across the entirety of a region, would be sufficient to stop stealthy incursions. If you did—and I did—you’d be wrong. After all, why bother with sense when the System is in play?
“Move,” Johnson hisses at me.
I jolt forward, ducking through the glowing hole in the settlement shield that one of his soldiers has created. I’m not even sure what kind of spell it is that can breach a settlement shield without alerting anyone, but I make note to find out. And to perhaps institute regular in-settlement patrols on our own settlements.
As I duck through, I skitter out of the way of the window, being careful of where I place my feet on the unsteady floor while the quantum lock notification appears in my HUD. The settlement shield was generated in a sphere, one that cares not for minor non-System-developed features like commercial buildings. As such, we’re breaching the settlement shield from the second floor of a squat commercial building that once housed a clothing store below and a dental office above. I’m somewhat amused that the ladies took the seconds to shove a few particularly pretty handbags into my hands for storage and that the settlement shield bisected the entire store neatly in the middle. Even so, the building seems to be mostly intact, which is why it was chosen.
You Have Entered the Village of Pasadena
Mana flows in this area are stabilized. No monster spawning will happen.
This Safe Space includes:
Village of Pasadena City Center
The Shop
Tier IV Settlement Shield
The team streams in after me, the puppies the only ones who have trouble squeezing through the opening. Once through, the hole slowly shrinks, leaving us trapped with hundreds of our enemies. Of course, if we do end up fighting them, we’re doing something wrong.
Ingrid and another soldier disappear after a moment, the pair heading out to scout, while Johnson sits with us, his own Skill—Shadow Cloak—hiding us from technological and Skill scrutiny. Or so we’re forced to assume. With nothing to do and unable to tap into our Skills or spells, we’re forced to wait in tense silence. Even speaking is discouraged, since the possibility of an individual with enhanced senses is a major concern.
Seated next to the air filter, I find myself leaning against the wall and thinking about the progress of the war, Lana leaning against me and working on her businesses in her own System windows. Even though I know this is how she’s dealing with the stress, I almost feel guilty about not checking up on my settlements. Almost. But first things first, we’ve got to survive this war.
We’re a couple of settlements ahead of the main fighting force from Fort Irwin, and if the plan goes well, we’ll be sneaking through this suburb into the next, making our way slowly into LA itself. Cutting through the Ang
eles National Forest and its higher Level monsters gave us a way to sneak in that would be much more difficult for the larger army. Over the following few days, the Fort Irwin army will take over the settlements in the way, going on a slow and steady route rather than a blitzkrieg approach. That should reduce the likelihood that the Zarrie ambushes succeed, even if we give them more opportunities to do so. At the same time, I know that Camp Pendleton will step up their own attacks, pushing the Zarrie in the south and threatening their settlements there, forcing them to fight a battle on two fronts.
There’s a danger to that of course—the Zarrie could easily concentrate their forces and hit us hard, a term that I believe is defeat in detail. But that’s where the other aspect of the plan lies, the one that I’ve begun to realize is Miller’s goal. If we can get in deep enough, we can cause real trouble for the Zarrie while their men are busy. They’ve shown the ability to teleport large numbers of their men, more than we can. But it seems to require a significant number of individuals and cast time, something that we don’t need. If they can teleport in, we can teleport out. Or better, teleport our people in to where they expect to be safe.
And that’s what I think we might actually be going for, a location where the Master Classes will be. It’s why we’re trekking all over with Johnson’s people, checking out different spots. Because it’s not enough to take over the City Cores—those are, at best, temporary victories. While controlling them ensures that last-minute reinforcements via teleportation pads and instantaneous System-assisted communication is removed, it isn’t a guarantee of victory.
No, what we need to do to win is to destroy their ability to fight back. Their forces. And in that sense, the three Master Class Combat Classers are the main targets. Taking them out will reduce the Zarrie’s ability to wage an effective war, leaving them with only their non-Combat Master Classers within Los Angeles itself. A group that we can defeat as we take the City Cores.