Wounded Legion_a mech LitRPG novel

by Xavier P. Hunter

  Nama Hideo crawled backward on his hands. “Please. Don’t! I’m begging you. Whatever they paid you, I’ll—”

  His words were cut off when Reggie’s sword took him through the chest.

  [Assassination: Successful!]

  [Bounty 2,500¥]

  “Good man,” Chase said, sauntering up behind him. “Much better than your aim with the shuriken. Never take the bait when they offer more money. It’s always just a ploy.”

  Reggie took his sword out of the dead man and gave it a flick to clean it. The game didn’t care if it got put away wet or not, and the cleaning gesture—either a flick or a wipe across clean cloth—was essentially just an emote. “Wouldn’t it be a better game if sometimes the offer was legitimate?”

  Chase shrugged. “I’ll mention it to Mike and Yuhong at lunch tomorrow. Might be cool for beta. But right now we’ve got business.”

  “Business?” Reggie asked. “I thought you were just shadow-leveling me tonight.”

  “Something came up. Remember our old contact?”

  “The one who got us our asses kicked on Torbek?” Reggie asked.

  Chase leaped into the night skyline, forcing Reggie to follow suit or lose track of him. “Hey, his intel was good. We didn’t make great use of it. That’s all.”

  “What’s he got for us this time?” Reggie asked.

  “Dunno.”

  There was a festival in Forest City that night. The streets and waterfront were lit by red paper lanterns, and the air was filled with the music of drums and flutes. Chase wound his way through the merriment of locals out to enjoy themselves, never alerting them to his presence. Reggie bumbled behind, making apologies and trying to keep up.

  Reggie caught up with his friend as Chase held a knife to Choumi’s throat in an alley behind a noodle bar.

  “So, what’s the deal tonight?” Chase asked.

  “Let me go or the deal’s off, psycho!” Choumi protested.

  Chase snickered and let the Liberty Clan traitor go, giving him a shove that left him sprawled against the noodle shop’s wall. “Spill it.”

  “Napoleon’s pissed,” Choumi said. “Mondo pissed. If you thought you were going to get him off your backs with that stunt, you’ve got another think coming.”

  Reggie looked to Chase, who just shrugged. “I don’t think we expected Napoleon to give up after one loss,” Reggie said. “We just wanted to prove we can sting. We’re going to keep picking off stragglers and selling them before he can take them back. We’re going to live fat on the sale of Tullus VI for days. Might even be a better business model than our original expansion plans. And if Nappy-boy figures out how to stop us from doing that, I’ll come up with some new way to hit back.”

  Choumi shook his head. “You’re idiots. You don’t understand. You’re finished. Might as well get used to this place since Silent Shuriken’s all you’ll have left.”

  Chase twirled a dagger between his fingers. “How?”

  Choumi shook his head. “Not this time. You’ve got nothing I want. I just wanted you to know how screwed you are.”

  Chase flung his dagger. But before it left his hand, Choumi was already gone.

  “Coward,” Chase muttered, opening his palm so that the dagger could reappear there. “He logged out.”

  “What do you think?” Reggie asked. “He just yanking our chains?”

  With a shrug, Chase melted into the shadows. “Can’t say. Guess we’ll find out.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Reggie found out the next morning. When he logged back into Armored Souls, the message Choumi was delivering became clear.

  [Faction > Roster > News (8) > Rewards > Info]

  Near the top of the list, one item jumped out.

  [D-O-Double-Gs of War Has Declared War on Wounded Legion]

  Reggie puzzled over the name until he figured out that they were Snoop Dogg fans—or at least whoever named them was. But beyond the curious choice of faction name, they were roughly the size of Liberty Clan.

  “Since when do the bullies call for backup?” Reggie asked himself. In every movie and TV show playground scene, the wimpy kid standing up to the bully was the rallying cry of the oppressed. If the wimpy kid’s actions alone didn’t put an end to the bully’s rein of terror, the horde of emboldened nerds and bystanders did.

  Just as Reggie was beginning to wrap his head around the idea that there was a second faction intent on curb-stomping Wounded Legion, he noticed another notification in his news items.

  [Mecha Frenzy Has Declared War on Wounded Legion]

  “Wonderful,” he muttered.

  Checking the faction list, Reggie discovered that they were even larger than the other two factions allied against him. All told, Liberty Clan and their allies controlled over five hundred planets.

  Reggie had three.

  There was some run-of-the-mill daily fare in his feed, but the last item that mattered was a message from Freedom Coach Napoleon:

  “Hey, King. Hope you don’t mind, but some friends of mine decided to join the asshole-kicking party. How could I deny them the fun of kicking your ass? The three of us have vowed to keep the war going until Wounded Legion disbands. We’re going to lock you down in your headquarters. Anything you conquer will be taken from you in an instant. Anyone who’s still in your faction after tomorrow is going to get permanently blackballed by every other faction on the server. I want you to be the last man sitting alone in your hangar, staring at your shitty juggernaut.

  “Have a nice day. Enjoy your custom-made, hand-delivered freedom. You shouldn’t have messed with us.”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  In defiance of Freedom Coach Napoleon’s threats and the looming alliances hanging over their heads, Wounded Legion’s next action was conquest. Reggie wasn’t willing to sit back and let that sniveling punk dictate how he ran his faction.

  Gaius II was a farming planet with little income and no strategic value. Its claims to fame were being virtually undefended and only a five-minute flight from the Green Zone aboard a drop ship. Reggie didn’t even wait for everyone to log in before setting out with six juggernauts to plant a khaki flag on the little brown ball of dirt.

  Twenty minutes after their return to headquarters, Reggie and everyone else in Wounded Legion received the following system notification:

  [Gaius II Captured by D-O-Double-Gs of War]

  “Well,” Chase said as they gathered in the War Room immediately afterward. “At least they weren’t idle threats.”

  Frank spat on the floor. “Used to be an unwritten rule. Two fellas get in a dust up, you stand back and let ‘em settle it like men. Got no use for a man who sees an uneven fight and sides with the guy doing all the punching. Sucker punchers got no courage.”

  “Who cares if they’re fighting fair or not?” Lin asked. “They’re fighting us. We’ve got to do something or—” Then she caught herself.

  “Or what?” Chase asked. “Or you’ll bail?”

  Lin crossed her arms and looked away. “I’m not gonna bail. But I don’t like the idea of getting our faces pushed in the toilet and the water flushed.”

  “That’d be a swirlie,” Frank said, raising a finger. “One of my boys had some troubles with that one. Taught him to box after that.”

  “I don’t think boxing lessons are going to work here,” Reggie said. He turned on the holographic field and pointed to the galactic map, indicating a patch of space that was now an olive drab. “That’s us. This is Liberty Clan. And this is Dogs of War. And this is Mecha Frenzy.” As he tapped out each of their allied enemy factions, a blue blob appeared that dwarfed Wounded Legion. Then an orange blob joined it, followed by a silver blob that just made the comparison between the two sides ludicrous.

  “We need a plan,” June said.

  “We need to evacuate those scientists from Alcon Prime,” Chase suggested.

  Reggie gave him a frown. “What? Just give up on holding out?”

  “The scientists
have value. That loot from Tullus VI could easily buy us a research lab to make use of them. Maybe we could unlock some tech boosts,” Chase said.

  “Fine. I’ll recall them,” Reggie said. “But this feels like preparing for a siege more than a defense.”

  “It will be a siege,” Chase assured him. “They can do everything Napoleon promised.”

  Frank grunted. “And when they do, you’ll be off having pajama sword fights every night.”

  Reggie stepped in before Chase had an opportunity to answer. “If anyone wants out, I’ll understand. What’s coming isn’t going to be pretty. It won’t be easy. Frankly, it’s probably going to mostly suck. But I refuse to just give in and let these losers beat us.”

  Monty raised a glass he’d brought in from the bar. “Here, here!”

  The sentiment echoed around the War Room.

  Reggie wondered how long the bullish enthusiasm would last.

  Chapter Fifty

  It took less than half an hour to recall the four scientists from Alcon Prime. They milled around the rec room chatting in opaque technobabble over beers while they awaited completion of the new research lab.

  Reggie came up with another space rock to capture just to make the Liberty Coalition chase it down for disposal. If they were going to steal anything Wounded Legion took, it might as well include inhospitable wastelands with negative income and hazardous biomes filled with deadly creatures.

  Fallen Glade was a designated xenobiology preserve, home to something called a Capra terribilis. There would be a weekly fine for occupying it in violation of Star League Science Council edicts. Yet less than half an hour after gaining ownership of it, all Wounded Legion personnel got the message:

  [Fallen Glade Captured by Mecha Frenzy]

  From there, Reggie and the Capture Platoon landed on Yevina, where the refugee colonists accepted them with open arms and joined Wounded Legion eagerly. They were also all infected with the Prymni Plague and required expensive medical treatments that would be automatically deducted from the parent faction’s coffers each day.

  And yet, nineteen minutes after Reggie’s drop ship departed, the planet changed hands again.

  [Yevina Captured by Liberty Clan]

  “Hope old Napoleon’s up to date on his shots,” Chase had remarked.

  But without pausing to reflect, Reggie took the Capture Platoon to an ice-type planet called Kelthant. Cockpit windows frosted over the instant the cargo bay door opened, allowing in an apocalyptic cold that threatened to freeze juggernauts solid if they didn’t fire off every heat-generating system available. Luckily, they only needed to plant a proverbial flag to claim the pointless, frozen rock.

  [Kelthant Captured by D-O-Double-Gs of War]

  “I don’t know about the rest of you,” Chase said as they got the message from the drop ship, “but I’m having a blast. We’re like evil real estate agents selling toxic waste dumps and protected wetlands to buyers too stupid to do their homework.”

  “How long these rascals going to keep falling for it?” Frank asked.

  Reggie sighed. “I don’t know how long we can find nearby systems that are this fucked up. I mean, we’re basically back-checking through the listings of planets that the developers never intended any player faction to control.”

  He knew that the Liberty Coalition would keep taking as long as Wounded Legion had anything to take. It was a test of wills. And as much as Reggie wanted to bluster and assure everyone that no one had more will to fight than him, he couldn’t bring himself to say it aloud.

  In case that promise turned out to be a lie.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Not even Reggie could stay awake and play around the clock, and most of Wounded Legion was still closely tied to the waking world. Chipz had physical therapy every morning to help him walk again. Monty was scheduled for another reconstructive surgery. Lin still had a daily following for her live stream that demanded her attention and provided her income.

  Everyone had something. Everyone but Reggie and Frank. And today, even Frank was absent, off on some nebulous errand in the real world despite being deemed unfit to operate a set of stairs unsupervised.

  So Reggie was all alone as he opened up a game menu to see what had happened over the daytime hours he’d slept through.

  [Faction > Roster > News (28) > Rewards > Info]

  There were taunting messages from the Liberty Coalition leaders mixed in with battle reports. Reggie didn’t read any of them. All he cared about were the major notifications.

  [Alcon Prime Captured by D-O-Double-Gs of War]

  [Schet IX Captured by Liberty Clan]

  Reggie backed out to the main menu.

  [Faction > Roster > News (4) > Rewards > Info]

  He selected Faction and brought up the listing of Wounded Legion holdings.

  [Green Zone]

  Taking a deep breath, Reggie checked the legion’s income.

  [Wounded Legion - Net Income - -23,000Cr/Day]

  The figure was highlighted in the same warning red as a missing arm or a fire aboard Vortex. Except that a mission loss was covered by insurance. Now, Reggie had to worry that if Wounded Legion didn’t keep up with generating income, he’d be forced to start selling off Green Zone in bits and pieces to make up the difference.

  He remembered the days, not so long ago, when it was just the five of them running mercenary missions night after night. A 5-bay hangar. The rec room. Quarters for everyone. It hadn’t been a bad life, Reggie told himself.

  But Armored Souls was about to shrink around Reggie like the walls of a prison cell if he didn’t do something to fight back. He’d seen the galaxy as more than a list of chores to do for other factions.

  Reggie could have headed to his apartment in Seattle Lite to watch television. He could have created a character in any of Valhalla West’s other games. But instead, Reggie headed for the rec room, poured himself a beer, and watched the battle replays of the Liberty Coalition overrunning his final two planetary holdings.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Hours later, Chase logged in and found Reggie playing nine-ball by himself.

  “Wow,” Chase said. “We’ve got to buy you a dog or something. No person should ever look that sad unless they’re dying of something awful.”

  Reggie stood up and leaned on his cue. “If you want to get technical, I’m barely alive in the real world, hooked up to a ventilator and brain scanner, getting fed through tubes and having my blood cycled through a dialysis machine.”

  Chase winced. “Sorry. Right. But I… I just mean… it’s not the end of the world. We can come back from this. Three factions aren’t going to just camp us for weeks. We can still sneak out and steal little planets. Make them work. C’mon. Let’s go claim a dead rock and make Freedom Coach Napoleon add it to his pet rock collection.”

  He looked too earnest. For a guy who had no stake in this beyond the attachment he’d formed with Wounded Legion, he was certainly still willing to give it his all. How could Reggie let him down?

  Laying the cue on the table without cleaning up the game in progress, Reggie gave a nod. “All right. Let’s do this.”

  In the War Room, the two of them picked through the available options. The olive drab of Wounded Legion’s territory was now just a sphere around Green Zone no bigger than a cotton ball. The once desolate space all around them was being consumed by the three factions allied against them.

  “Here’s the deal,” Chase said. “We need something with no defenses to speak of.” He tapped a few commands into the galactic map interface, and unclaimed star systems lit up. It was a tiny minority, but there were still a few choices nearby. “We also want something with limited potential for that fucker, Napoleon, to make use of.” Several more taps progressively reduced the targets to a countable number: seven.

  “Any of those come with a penalty or anything?” Reggie asked.

  Chase raised a finger. “I thought of that, but I ruled those out. Remember, Napoleon wan
ts Wounded Legion disbanded. If we take on a negative income, he might switch up and let us keep it just long enough to crush us under its burden.”

  Reggie rubbed his chin. “I don’t like the idea of giving him anything even remotely valuable.”

  At that suggestion, Chase grinned. “Then why not sell it off as soon as we take possession? Tullus VI all over again.”

  It could work. Even if they got a pittance for it, that would be one more pittance than they had now.

  “Let’s do it,” Reggie said. “Pick one. It’s your plan, and I don’t care what we take.”

  “How about… Gorthax XII. Never attacked a planet with that high a number before. Good a reason as any. It’s essentially a ball of iron.”

  Iron. Mining. It might not be much, but Reggie could pitch that for a sale. Maybe he could convince someone to pay 50,000Cr for it. That could keep the war effort going for another two days.

  On the walk to the hangar, Reggie psyched himself up. This was the Rebel Alliance. This was the French Resistance. There was no glory here, just a good fight with the hope of holding out long enough to win. Napoleon couldn’t win. All he could do was convince Reggie to give up, and Reggie could deny him that prize indefinitely.

  The drop ship ride was eight minutes.

  Gorthax XII looked like the pictures Reggie had seen of Mars. The whole surface of the planet appeared rusty.

  [Primary Objective: Claim Gorthax XII for Wounded Legion]

  The mission was a formality of capturing a world. All it would take would be to set foot on a completely unclaimed celestial body and declare it his. There was even a command to plant a flag there as a symbolic gesture.