by Tao Wong
“They added another ten or so combat Classers to the city after you left, but that was it. Didn’t look like they intended to add any more, but…” Ingrid shrugs, leaving unsaid the fact that she did less than a day’s worth of scouting. “One of the new classers was a hunter of some sort. It nearly caught me twice. Weirdest thing ever—six feet, purple-and-pink-furred lizard thing. I don’t think I’d be able to sneak back in any time soon.”
“They’re called Badas,” Ali supplies. “Sentient umm… well, sentient.”
I stare at Ali, curious as to what could make even Ali pause but discarding the thought. I’m sure there’s a story there, but for now, time to focus on Ingrid and our problems. I raise my hand, pulling out a map of the surrounding settlements. British Columbia has a ton of small towns, but outside of Kamloops, Vernon, and Kelowna, most barely have any population.
“Don’t think they’re going to do any major staging out of Merritt,” I mutter, tapping the town icon to the south of Kamloops. “So it’s probably a temporary base there.” At the hmmm from Ingrid, I clarify for her, “They’re attacking us from that direction. Probing with a few groups. So far we’ve counted about five different groups. All low Level though.”
“Okay. You want me to kill them tomorrow?” Ingrid asks, straight to the point.
“No. Mel’s got the teams doing that, using the Sect as training. Not sure they’re getting a lot of Experience, but…” I shrug.
Mel’s given me an overview of his plans, intending to let the groups come in and probe our defenses and even letting them succeed at times, saying it’s better to hide the full range of our abilities than to win every fight. I’m not entirely convinced, but his logic is sound, so I’m letting him run with it. As it stands, his results so far have been decent—no losses on our side and one death on the Sect’s. Unfortunately, unless we’re able to achieve a fatality, any injuries are easily healed. It’s probably why wars are so vicious in the wider System galaxy. If you don’t put them down, they just keep coming.
“Okay then. When you figure out what you want me to do, let me know,” Ingrid says, waving. “I’m going to get some rest.”
“Of course,” I say to Ingrid, waving goodbye. “Thank you again.”
I don’t get an answer as the woman strides off, leaving me alone again. After a moment, I look upward and stare at Ali.
“Been thinking about that Mana flow. We use it to power the settlement shield and the sentry towers, correct?” I say to the floating Spirit.
“Yes. Though it’s mostly from the background flow,” Ali says.
“Can we use the built-up reserves in a more active way? Maybe boosting the sentry towers and shields occasionally?” I say.
“Not the traditional way of using Mana overflows…” Ali says.
“And non-traditionally?” I say with a frown.
“Spells. Generally a settlement-wide enchantment of some form,” Ali explains.
“IT IS POSSIBLE. UPGRADES WILL BE REQUIRED FOR BOTH THE SENTRY TOWERS AND SHIELD GENERATOR, AS WELL AS THE PURCHASE OF A SETTLEMENT MANA STORAGE BATTERY.”
“Where is the Mana stored now?” I ask with a frown. After all, I can see the Mana numbers right in the settlement information.
“MANA ACCESSIBLE BY THE SETTLEMENT IS KEPT IN CIRCULATION THROUGH THE ATMOSPHERE OF THE TOWN.”
“What kind of rituals or enchantments are we looking at?” I ask Ali next.
“Anything you want. I’ve seen weather control rituals, life enhancement, fertility, crafting rituals. You name it, you can get it. Including defensive ones,” Ali states.
“So defensive rituals,” I say, nodding. “Think this is a conversation I’ll need to have with Mel.”
“And funds to build it up,” Ali points out. “Enchantments—combat enchantments in particular—are expensive.”
I groan. Of course they are. Anything good is always expensive. Though I absently make a note to ask Aiden about this. I know he’s got some experience with enchantments in Whitehorse. Perhaps we could con him into helping out here. Humming to myself, I start composing the message.
Tracking down Lana the next day isn’t hard. Even if I didn’t have access to the full surveillance apparatus of the city, the buxom redhead is both noticeable and well-known. She’s also a bleeding heart, which is why I’m not surprised to find her with the refugees in a makeshift office, making suggestions and offering advice to the crowd that has gathered. Luckily, there’s no shortage of jobs to be had, so it’s a matter of assignment more than anything else.
I wave to Lana, catching her attention before stepping back and waiting until she’s done. I spend the time watching the refugees, curious to see how they’re doing. They’re a mixed lot, though the group here leans toward the shell-shocked and somewhat disheveled. It’s interesting how even when your clothing and self is perfectly clean, you can look utterly wasted. There’s a truth in there somewhere, one that I’m too tired to consider.
“John?” Lana says, drawing my attention back to her.
“Oh hey.” I lean in to give her a quick kiss. She returns it before raising an eyebrow, querying my presence. “I wanted to give you this.”
I hand her my purchase, the small velvet box dwarfed in my hand. Lana takes the box, lips pursed in thought as she pops it open to see the simple silver and gold chain, each link inscribed with runes. Her lips part slightly as she stares at the necklace and the information that displays.
Proxima Necklace of Regeneration
The Proxima brand of luxury jewelry provides award-winning designs and the highest regeneration in its class. Show your faith to the one you love, buy Proxima.
Health Regeneration: +20
Mana Regeneration: +5
“This…”
“Here, let me,” I say, taking the necklace and walking around to her back. Lana lifts her long, wavy red hair, letting me clasp the necklace. For a moment, my fingers fumble slightly as I stare at the graceful expanse of white skin. “Done.”
Rather than answer me verbally, Lana turns around and leans forward, planting her lips on mine as she wraps her arms around my neck. After a time, she breaks the kiss. “Thank you.”
“No worries,” I say awkwardly.
“What brought this on?”
“Ummm… nothing. Just thought I should,” I answer, deciding against mentioning my initial inspiration.
“Mmhmmm…” Lana says before she smiles one of those radiant smiles. “Thank you again. You know, Richard would be taking you out for a talk if he saw you give me this.” There’s a brief flicker of sadness, one that she forcibly pushes away.
I nod slightly, understanding her pain. I miss that idiot too.
“Was this it?” Lana says. “Not that I don’t value your presence…”
“Yes,” I say, rubbing my nose and taking my dismissal graciously. “If you didn’t have anything for me, I was thinking about checking out the farms, then talking to Mel and his people.”
“No, I’ve got this,” Lana says, waving me off to do my rounds. “I’ll see you tonight.”
I smile, hearing the unspoken promise in those words, my stride having a slight bounce to it that wasn’t there before. The gift for her was well worth the Credits, even if it did drain my funds.
“Can we help you?”
Polite or not, the question is obviously meant to dissuade me from wandering into the small strip mall. With its internal walls taken down and a short wall obstructing the parking lot, the strip mall no longer looks as inviting as its original architect envisioned. Which is the point, I’m sure. There are even a pair of guards standing outside the main entrance, mostly looking bored.
“Just wanted to check out how things are going,” I say, peering past the woman who stopped me.
The stout raven-haired woman steps sideways, hands on her hips as she blocks my view. Over her head, her Status says she’s KC Markowitz, a Level 21 Gunsmith. Absently, I wonder how she ended up with just initials for her name. I’ve never
seen that before.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what they told you, but this area isn’t open to the public,” the Gunsmith says, glaring at the pair of guards with displeasure.
“My name’s John Lee.” I flash her a grin. When she doesn’t get it, I add, “The guy who kicked out the Sect? Your boss’s boss?”
“Oh…” KC gasps. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…”
“It’s fine, KC,” I say, waving toward the building. “Ben’s reports mentioned that he set up a gun factory and I was curious.”
Having started at the use of her name, KC draws a breath before nodding. “If you’d like, I can show you around?”
“That’d be great.” Part of my visit here is curiosity. Part of it is a desire to get more bullets for Sabre, though I’m not entirely sure these guys are up to the task. Which is the point of coming and finding out for myself, obviously.
“Well, we’ve got the workshop—umm, factory—set up in three parts right now. Outside here”—KC gestures to the group of plastic tables covered by cheap pavilions probably looted from the closest big box store, where a few craftsmen move about—“we work with the high explosives and other, ummm… volatile materials.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?” I frown, walking over. On closer inspection, I realize that the tables are cordoned off from each other with portable shield generators.
“Well, better than constantly fixing the walls inside,” KC says with a shrug. “We all carry multiple healing potions, and we never keep more volatiles out here than we can stand from an explosion. Those of us working with the volatiles have also either invested in our Constitution or have a Class Skill to reduce ummm… self-created mistakes.”
“Ah…” I pause at the nearest table to watch while half-listening to KCs explanations.
The individual is working on what looks like tiny missiles—mortar shells, perhaps—alternately pulling various parts apart, screwing parts together, putting the two-thirds complete item upright, and gently filling one of the four vials in the shell with a purple liquid. Once that’s done, he switches to filling another vial, this time with a red liquid. He continues doing so, adding different liquids to each vial, before sealing the vials with a glass stopper and screwing the entire assembly together. After that, he holds his hand over it, focusing while the product glows.
“He’s using a Skill to complete assembly. It’s called ummm… Assembly,” KC says. “If Sherman gets simple-to-assemble parts, he just screws and mostly finishes them then uses his Skill. The Skill finishes everything for him, making it a complete product. Like that.” She gestures, and I nod.
The glow around the shell is gone. In its place is a single smooth item, rather than the screwed-together contraption that he had before. What he does next surprises me.
Hands glowing again, Sherman waves his hand up and down the table, his movements centered around the mortar. He does that for twenty seconds, the area where his hand moves slowly growing brighter and brighter. Then suddenly, with a slight rumble of displaced air, another ten mortar shells cover the table.
“Wha…?”
“Mass Production,” KC says, shrugging. “All of us have it. If we don’t get it as part of our Skill tree, we buy it from the Shop. It can only be activated within five seconds after you’ve completed your most recent work, but it lets the System generate even more copies. There are a few variations, including a channeled version like what Sherman has and a single-use Skill like mine.”
“Wow…” I say, blinking. That’s amazing. Then again, it’s taken Sherman about five minutes to produce eleven shells. And as I watch, Sherman slowly puts together the other piece, his movements slow and careful.
“Check out his Mana level, boy-o. He’s nearly out. So each cast takes about ten minutes to finish eleven.” Ali grunts. “Not horrible for a Basic Class, but not great.”
And of course that explains why hand-crafted projectile weaponry is so expensive. Each of his shells does high-explosive, flaming damage over a range of ten feet on impact, but only a base damage of 53. Not great. If he was making bullets, I could see why it would cost multiple Credits to buy even a single bullet. Still, it’s better than the single-digit damage levels of non-System generated weaponry.
“So outside, we have the volatiles,” KC says, continuing her initial conversation and leading me into the open doorway. “Inside, we’ve got the basic, solid-shot projectiles. Everything from basic armor-piercing weaponry to just bullets like I make. Then there’s the warehouse section, where our runners put the finished product and we take inventory.”
I nod, listening to KC as she guides me around, showing me the place. It doesn’t take long, even with introductions to those who look interested.
When we finally get to the warehouse and KC finishes her spiel, I turn to her and hold out a single projectile. From the looks of it, KC’s probably my best bet. “Are you able to make this?”
“Ummm…” KC frowns, staring at the projectile as she turns it around in her hand.
It looks a bit similar to our own bullets, physics—basic physics, at least—not changing much. She pulls a small pair of plyers from her tool belt and pulls apart the backend with a twist, brows furrowed. After a minute of silence as she continues to tap and play with the projectile in silence, I clear my throat.
“Oh, right. Sorry. No,” KC says, shaking her head. “I don’t have the blueprints for it. I’d need to get that first or research it. It doesn’t look hard…” KC taps one edge before casually tossing a part onto the concrete floor. It explodes with a small puff of smoke, shattering the concrete and making me jump slightly. No one else even flinches. “Nice reagent… I think… yes…”
I cough, bringing her attention back to me.
“No. Can’t do it. Don’t have the materials. I could cobble something together with what we have in a few weeks once I’ve researched it, but it wouldn’t be as good. This is very nice work.”
I sigh, nodding. For all the advantages of owning a settlement, getting free bullets doesn't seem to be one of them. Not yet at least.
“Can I keep this?” KC says, holding up the pieces of the projectile.
“Sure,” I say, shaking my head.
KC grins, walking away while muttering to herself as she stares at the projectile, abruptly leaving me alone in a warehouse filled with ammunition.
“Well done, boy-o. A real charmer you are.”
I grunt, shaking my head, and walk out. Best get to my next project.
I knock on the door of the apartment building gently—mostly because I spotted the pair of high-explosive mines hidden in the wall. Between that, the surveillance cameras, a shield enchantment, and probably a few more toys I haven’t seen, this building is probably the most well-defended in the city. Which isn’t surprising, considering who lives here right now.
“Redeemer,” the Hakarta greets me, his face solemn. I notice he’s standing almost at attention. “Is there a problem?”
“No, no problem,” I say, frowning. “Why would you think there’s one?”
“I did not. Are you here to speak with the lieutenant then?” the Hakarta says.
“Well, I…” I consider my answer and finally nod. It’s obvious the private I’m speaking to would prefer I speak with his boss. “Yes. Please.”
“Very well. I shall lead you to him,” the private says, letting me in before closing the door and resetting their security precautions. After that, he leads me upstairs a couple of floors and to a corner apartment, where he knocks on the door before gesturing for me to stand to the side. “Wait here please. I shall inform the lieutenant.”
Once the lieutenant is informed, it takes only a minute to get the formalities out of the way, leaving me with him in the comfortable living room filled with a beige L-designed couch and lounging chairs. I absently note that all the family photos are gone, stacked in a corner, while the Hakarta reside here for now.
“How are you doing, lieutenant?” I say.
�
��We are well. There are no complaints, sir,” Lieutenant Nerigil says. “Major Ruka briefed us on what to expect beforehand. And your… commander is competent and willing to listen to suggestions.”
“Good. Very good,” I say, nodding. “I understand he’s got you guys on guard duty mostly?”
“Yes. Our contract only extends to the direct defense of the town. While it could be argued to include the hunting of your harassers, it was decided that our strength was better used in town, providing guard services and occasional training companions,” the lieutenant answers stiffly. “If that is acceptable, Redeemer.”
“Oh, I’m not here to meddle,” I say, waving away his words. “I’m actually just checking in on you guys. Making sure none of my people have started fights because you… well…”
“We look like your orcs.”
I cough, nodding slightly with embarrassment.
“It is understandable. My people’s major occupation does place us in an antagonistic position with most settled races. We have fought against, and fought for, most races. It is no surprise that the Mana Leakage you experienced cast us as a warlike race,” Lieutenant Nerigil says.
“Ah… I’m glad you understand,” I say, smiling. The lieutenant nods and I get up before shaking his hand in farewell. “Well, I won’t bother you on your day off anymore. I just wanted to make sure you guys are doing well.”
“Our comfort is well within the parameters of the contract,” the lieutenant confirms and sees me out.
It’s only when I’m out of the building that I realize he never did say if his people had gotten into any fights over our impression of them as orcs. I turn around to knock again, a bit annoyed at being blown off like that.