by Tao Wong
Next to Lana and Sam is another pair: a tall, thin human with a black beard and hooked nose, and a masculine figure with a series of frills across the top of his head and a long hairstyle. I can’t help but think he’s a Klingon, though his entire temperament seems far from the famous TV character. Another case of Mana leakage? Or just a coincidence?
“John,” Sam greets me when I approach and scan the pair.
Torg Lavar (Farmer Level 37)
HP: 470/470
MP: 250/250
Conditions: Serf
Benjamin Asmundur (Architect Level 28)
HP: 210/210
MP: 470/470
Conditions: None
“Torg here is an import by the Sect and the farm overseer,” Lana says, gesturing to the man. He taps the side of his shoulder with two fingers in greeting as Lana speaks. “He’s been in charge of assigning tasks to the Farmers, Herbalists, and Gatherers for the various herbs and other crops they’re developing. Mel, who’s with Mikito right now, and his team kept an eye out for monsters while they worked. Anything gathered was sent off to the Sect for processing though, so we don’t have any high-Level Alchemists or Herbalists in town. The ones we have mostly produced things for internal use.
“Benjamin’s one of the few free humans in the settlement—an Architect. He was telling us how he managed that,” Lana finishes, gesturing to the human.
He smiles at me, eyes twinkling with good humor while he extends his hand. “Call me Ben.” It’s a firm, controlled shake, the kind that doesn’t try to overwhelm you with strength. “I’m an architect. When the System came, I was still at home with my family. I took the Class too, and well, I had—have—the Skill to devote my Mana to ‘purchasing’ a building so I can reconstruct it. I did it for my apartment building and just kind of upgraded it.”
“You can buy buildings outright without the Shop?” I say, my eyes wide. That’s one hell of a gamebreaker in the early part of this year.
“Yes. It requires Mana and I’m still paying off the buildings I bought. Kind of like a loan from the System,” Ben says. “Really messes with my regeneration.”
“You should see it later, John,” Lana says, pointing into the distance with a slight smile. “It’s a damn fortress. It takes up a whole block.”
“Huh.” I rub my nose and kind of wonder why we never had anything like that in Whitehorse. Then again, the non-combatants had a tendency to die fast, so maybe we did and they were just another daisy-pusher. “How’d you keep the monsters out?”
“One of my Class Skills lets me create traps. I turned the first few floors into death traps and funneled them into my entrances. I set it up so that the traps only triggered for enemies, so my people could use the exits easily,” Ben explains. “When the assholes came, they figured it was easier to leave me and my people alone than dig us out. Since then, they’ve been trying to starve us out while levying one tax after another. We’re real happy you guys came.”
“Your people?” I say.
“His fortress is pretty impressive for a Level 28 Architect. There’s just over two hundred people in there, though most are non-combatants. He’s reinforced the walls and entrances and even has the occupants devoting a portion of their Mana regeneration to the building Mana pool. You’d have to blast the entire wall apart at one go and move fast, or else the building would fix itself around it.”
“Those under my protection,” Ben says, shifting to face me and angling his body slightly. I wonder if it’s a conscious decision or not, the way he’s giving me less of a target. With the amount of violence we’ve all seen, it’s sometimes hard to tell who is a fighter and who isn’t. “I gathered as many as I could.”
“Fair enough.” A nagging thought surfaces—a conversation with an acquaintance in college during one of the few parties I ever went to. Red cups and beer in a smoke-filled kitchen. “Architects have to do some city planning too, right?”
“We do,” Ben says, frowning.
“Good,” I say and leave it at that. We’ll worry about building up the town later, once we’ve survived the upcoming fight. On that note… “How are the fighters?”
“Pitiful,” Sam replies, shaking his head. “Beam weapons or modified gunpowder rifles. No one’s above Level 20. Average around the low teens mostly.”
I frown. I knew the zones around the city were low, but they’ve had a whole year to grow. There are higher-Level zones easily within reach, never mind potential Swarms. Though from what Ali has told me, Swarms were more common in Whitehorse due to our high Mana saturation. I guess it’s less of an issue here.
“They took the higher-Level hunters away,” Torg finally speaks up, ducking his head immediately after. He shifts under my regard, almost as if he’s embarrassed to be speaking.
I nod in understanding. No point in making your life more difficult by keeping potential threats around. Still, from the grimace that flashed across Ben’s face, it was probably not something that went down well.
“How about the defenses?” Lana asks, cocking an eyebrow at me.
“Not great. There’s the city shield, but it’s only Tier IV. I’ve got a mine field out there and a sensor array built out now, so we’ll have at least some warning. We could use the sentries, but two of them are damaged.” I look at Sam as I say that and he offers a nod in understanding. “We’ll probably have to deal with the attackers ourselves.”
“I’m assuming we’ll expect them soon?” Lana says, rubbing absently at her arm where a beam attack has scorched the material, turning the dark blue black.
“Yes. Most likely from Kelowna to start.”
“Think they’re that confident?” Lana says, waving her hand around. “We did just kick their ass.”
“Definitely,” Torg says.
“Indubitably,” Ali echoes at the same time. When Lana stares at the little Spirit, he explains. “Ingrid’s ability hid your true Levels and no one survived the attack in the office. Considering the Levels you showed, they probably assumed you launched a sneak attack on them. Without their main fighters, the guards you fought were killed off easily—but that’s easily explained by the PAVs and other equipment. Add on to the fact that the Sect is just that arrogant…”
Torg nods at that.
“And they’ll be sure to strike back immediately,” Ali says. “Problem with ruling with strength is that you always have to be seen to be strong, you know?”
Lana nods slowly, looking toward the east for a second. After a moment more, she speaks up. “We going to take Kelowna then?”
“What?” I blurt, staring at her.
“In for a penny…” Lana meets my eyes. “If we’re going to free them, we might as well do it right. If they’re sending their fighters here, if we beat them, there won’t be much left in the other city.”
“I…” I pause, natural objections falling silent. The plan… well, there was no plan. I just intended to help where I could. However, conquering a few cities was never part of it. Still, Lana is right. If we’re going to do this….
Sam stares at the two of us incredulously while Ben and Torg stay silent, their faces much more neutral. A glance at Ali has him giving me a thumbs-up, and I finally offer Lana a nod.
Lana looks quite satisfied, smiling like the cat that just got cream. “Now, let’s talk about what we’re going to do with the town after we’re done.”
I nod, content to let the lady lead the discussion. Between her experience on the General Council in Whitehorse and the information she’s managed to garner here, Lana’s got a much better idea than I do of what’s going on and what needs to be done.
The next few hours passed in a blur. Learning about the town kept Lana and me focused, and Ben and Torg pulled in various other notables to talk to us through the day. Sam wandered off in about fifteen minutes, helping to settle our refugees and spread the good word among the general populace. I also recall him muttering something about finding a suitable workshop, but I ignored that bit. Mikito conti
nued to put the hunters, all but the few extra guards still watching over the farmers in the northeast, through their paces. And Ingrid—well, who knows where she was.
We did it all in the middle of the street, just standing there and talking to people, letting anyone and everyone who was interested listen in. And there were a lot. People streamed in and out of the crowd that gathered around us, listening, chatting, and pointing as they confirmed the news that the Sect had been kicked out. It took me a bit to realize that Lana had chosen the location on purpose, a not-so-subtle hint that things were changing. I admit, I approved, though I hoped no one expected us to do it all the time. Governance by committee made me roll my eyes.
Ben was, unsurprisingly, quite helpful. As the leader of the only independent group in the town, he knew nearly everyone. His presence by our side, talking congenially, probably helped allay a lot of fears. It was nearly as useful as his knowledge of the town’s resources.
Torg, on the other hand, contributed in a different, if no less useful, way by providing us examples of the way the Sect and other Galactics did things. Whether it was discussions on farming and gathering to zoning or Credit generation, he had ideas and examples from his time on other worlds. It seemed Torg had been bounced around a lot, always moving from settlement to settlement to help start up their latest farmland. The man had a knack for organizing individuals and problem-solving. It was unfortunate that he never actually got his hands dirty farming, keeping his Levels low.
My understanding of the town grew while I expanded my knowledge of the people around us. Late in the evening, when the others had begun to flag, the sensors pinged. I was a bit surprised, having expected them to come tomorrow. But I guess with the longer daylight hours of late spring, it didn’t matter.
“Incoming, boy-o,” Ali interrupts, flashing the map in front of Lana and myself. He taps something and text message notifications go out to the rest of the team.
From the map, I can tell that the group from Kelowna is coming in loud and brassy, not even bothering to hide their presence. Arrogant. Five dots, Levels popping up in short order. They’re headed straight in on the main road, which means they’ll miss the mines but will have to deal with the beam towers. If we let them get that close.
“Time to go,” I say, triggering Sabre to roll closer to me. I swing my foot over the bike even as Lana hops up on one of the puppies.
“Not sure I’m going to be much help here,” Sam’s voice cackles over the radio, and I have to agree. He’s better off where he is, fixing the sentries. Not being a frontline fighter, he’d be a liability if he came right now. While he’s done stellar work during the fights we’ve dragged him into, there’s no point in risking him when we don’t have to.
“Roger,” I say while Lana bids the group goodbye. I add my own belated and almost forgotten goodbye, the group splitting apart with worried expressions. Helmet on, I speak into the radio, giving rapid-fire orders. “Mikito, get the fighters up high. We’ll take them right outside the shield. Tell them to hold fire till we command it. Or we fall.”
I get an acknowledgement from the Samurai before her voice barks commands to others. I tune it out, glancing at Lana, who rides Howard next to me.
“You up for this?” I ask, my eyes roaming her form to assess her state.
Her armor has seen better days, and there’s a tightness to her shoulders I don’t like. But when she turns to me and flashes me a smile, it’s filled with confidence and I recall that this is the same woman who followed me into the Kluane Icefields without a word of complaint. A rush of hormones comes with that memory. That brazen courage even in the face of fear and anxiety was damn sexy. I make a mental note to find some time alone with her at some point. There’s always one thing or another in the way.
“I’ll be fine. You’re going to have to handle at least two of them. Maybe three. Are you up to this?” Lana says, violet eyes crinkling as she stares at me.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, patting my bike. “I’ve got Sabre.”
“You don’t look it,” she says, staring at my face. “You’ve got a weird look on your face.”
“Just disappointed, I guess.” At her cocked eyebrow, I go on. “I spent a lot of money and time planning out potential avenues of attack. Bought new sensor arrays and a minefield, figuring they’d try something smart. Instead, they walk right up to our front door.”
Lana stares at me for a second before snorting in amusement, a smile dancing along her lips. In minutes, Mikito falls in line on her bike, guiding it to flank me. Ingrid’s still gone, but that’s no surprise. She’ll pop up when she’s needed, probably with a blade in someone’s back.
As we pass the watchtowers, the shield shifts, opening long enough to let us out before we pull to a stop. Mikito doesn’t hesitate, transforming her PAV into mecha mode and walking to the side while the puppies spread out, flanking the road and crouching low in the green, uncut grass. Within seconds, Roland has disappeared, its form shifting as it uses an innate Skill to Stealth itself, leaving only Anna beside Lana. The redhead has her shotgun out and a portable shield array set before her feet, ready for trouble.
We don’t have to wait long, the Sect group arriving soon after. They disembark and walk toward us, leaving their hover transport behind. No surprise on that. Replacing vehicles is expensive and since few are actually made for extended combat amongst combat Classes, they break easily.
As they walk closer toward us, I scan the group. The first two are melee fighters. A Level 3 Advanced Class Bladesinger in brown fur wields a pair of swords in each hand, strutting forward on all four legs. Next to him, a sleek, green-scaled Advanced Level 27 Blood Warrior wields a rod and shield. Behind is a faceless Level 47 Elemental Mage in blocky armor and a rock-covered, seven-foot-tall Advanced Level 12 Rock Thrower. They’re guarding their Level 41 Stitcher.
“You can stop right there,” I call out when they’re about thirty feet away. Just in case, I check the Soul Shield I’ve added to Lana and the puppies.
“Nice of you to meet us out here,” the Blood Warrior says with a grin, his accent deep East Coast. A part of me tries to pin it down, certain I’ve heard it on TV somewhere. Idle thoughts. “Saves us the trouble of hunting you down.”
“Blah blah blah, random thug posturing.” I shake my head at the anger that crosses their body language. Tightened grips and shifts in positioning are universal, no matter what alien society you come from. “You have one chance to get out of this alive. Take your friends and leave BC now and return all the humans you’ve enslaved.”
There’s a long pause before a hissing, cackling, and grunting series of laughs erupts from the group.
Since they obviously aren’t going to take my generous offer, I follow up with the stick, launching all my high explosive mini-missiles and screaming, “Now!”
The sentry towers open up, lances of red fire striking even before my missiles. A second later, flames erupt from Anna’s body, a tightly wrapped beam of fire pulled from the creature’s aura. Lana opens fire with her shotgun as Mikito rushes the group, her Hasted body covering the ground within seconds.
The beams reach them first, fracturing ineffectively against an invisible shield. The beam turrets cut off after a second. The mini-missiles land next, creating rippling explosions that throw sand and dirt into the air and a pressure wave of force that hammers into us. A second later, the follow-up shots from the towers and the rest of the attacks land, the shield flickering under the assault.
It holds though, long enough for our enemies to take action themselves. Charging forward, the Bladesinger clashes with Mikito, his greater weight spinning her around as she blocks the strike. The pair blur, flashing across the ground perpendicular to us, their forms barely visible. A spell in the shape of a flaming bird rips through the air and slams into the beam towers, bypassing the settlement’s shield, which has dropped to allow the beam towers to fire. The other sentry tower goes down as the Rock Thrower, living up to its name, projects a
series of car-sized stone spears.
“Hey. I’m going to have to fix those!” I snap as I open fire with the Inlin mounted on my arm.
The flashing projectiles get cut apart in mid-air by the Blood Warrior. The explosions of the projectiles around him seem to be doing nothing, and even when I shift my target, he’s always there, blocking my attacks.
The puppies move forward the moment their shield drops, but they never reach their prey, the shield popping up within seconds. They howl in anger, battering the invisible protection, but there’s nothing they can do. Behind the shield, their Elemental Mage wavs his hands around, Mana gathering for another spell. The Blood Warrior is outside the shield though, rushing toward us.
“Lana, yours,” I shout over the radio, trusting that she can hold the Blood Warrior.
With a slight mental exertion, I trigger Blink Step, teleporting through time and space into the shield. It’s a gamble, since there’s no guarantee this shield won’t bounce me off. I appear next to the Rock Thrower, the Inlin firing into his side even as I summon my sword into my other hand and cut upward. He’s fast and trained, throwing himself to the side and backward, my attack only managing to lop off part of his foot. Green blood spurts outward, coating Sabre even as the monster rolls away from me in trained reflex. Spikes erupt from the ground, shattering Sabre’s shielding and making it flicker and disappear.
Even as I spin to target the Stitcher, Ingrid makes her appearance finally. Her dagger erupts from his neck, the enchanted weapon, along with her Skills and the surprise attack, cutting through his health and armor. Still, the Stitcher falls to the ground, fingers waggling, and a glow surrounds him. Ingrid’s next attack slows down as it enters the white glow, giving the Stitcher time to twist and roll with the damage.
I don’t have time to pay any further attention since I’ve crossed the ground toward the Mage, weathering the sudden Lightning Bolt it throws at me, the arc of electricity jumping through the air and striking Ingrid and the Stitcher as well. I grunt, hair and teeth on edge, but the bleed through is low and nothing Sabre and I can’t handle. I butcher the Elemental Mage in seconds, even with his momentary teleport away from me. As I attack, spikes of rock slam into Sabre’s armor, but the harassing fire from the Rock Thrower isn’t enough to dissuade my attacks. Personally, I think the Rock Thrower made the wrong decision in focusing on me. As I yank my sword out of the Mage’s corpse, I’m grateful that Mages are so damn squishy.