by Tao Wong
I have to agree with Ali on that. Changing up equipment might be fun in a game, but it always takes a little while to get used to new equipment. If the other weaponry isn’t much better than what I have already, what’s the point?
Next up are a series of mines and explosives, some omni-directional, some directed. I pull out a few, just for fun.
Shim Lun Razor Tripwire Mine
Rather than triggering a specific attack, this mine sends its razor-sharp tripwires across its targeted region, laying a trap for unsuspecting targets within its attack zone. Best paired with Shim Lun’s Skin Contact Poison Mine Canisters.
Damage: 15 per tripwire
Ollie’s High-Explosive Slime Mixture
Don’t let its name fool you, this is a high-explosive mine. Made from an unstable chemical mixture and a slime core, Ollie’s High-Explosive Slime Mixture is infamous across the Galactic System and banned in six Galactic regions for unusual cruelty to animals.
Damage: 125 Explosive Damage
Ares Burrowing Droid Pressure Mine
The Burrowing Droid Mine releases a series of droids that impact and attempt to burrow into target bodies. Once they are embedded in target bodies, the droids attempt to reach its target’s vital organs by burrowing toward the body. Please note that the Burrowing Droid may not work against certain non-standard, non-humanoid races.
Damage: 15 HP per second
“Ali, how much money do I have right now anyway?” I say. I know I got more from the fight, though I hadn’t bothered to do the math.
A quick look shows I’ve got just over thirty-eight thousand Credits—a pitiful amount considering how many I killed. Unlike the equipment Ali looted off dead bodies all around town when we passed by, Credits are only collected when I actually kill the individual in question myself. I personally think that’s a bit of a cheat, but then again, it’s better than the equipment stored in the System storage, which all disappears.
Fun and interesting as looking at the aftermath of the fight is, it’s nothing more than a distraction from the bitter truth that we lost that battle. I might have gained something personally, but we’d lost the battle. Even now, the Sect is probing our defenses, sending groups into the surroundings, seeing if they can sneak people close enough to take pot-shots at our shields.
For now, we’re in a stalemate with the Sect, but it can’t, won’t, last. Grimacing, I wave, pulling up a new book. Rather than an esoteric tome about the System, this one’s more pertinent to our current problems as it details one of the many, many conflicts the Erethran Empire has been involved in and their tactics. I’m hoping that somewhere in this book is knowledge that can help us. I’ve got hundreds of points in Wisdom and Intelligence; I must be able to think of something new. Even if those points don’t exactly work that way, I can still hope.
***
“John?” Ingrid calls softly early the next morning.
I dismiss the book and clamber to my feet, walking out of the Core’s room to greet the Assassin. “You made it back.”
“About an hour ago. I wanted to eat and change first,” Ingrid says. “Managed to take out another high Level Basic while I was in the city, but they started clamping down on security after that. Mostly, I just watched them.”
“Fair enough,” I say, knowing that Ingrid did the best she could have. Frankly, she did better than anyone else could, so I have no complaints.
“They’re hunkering down now. I don’t think they intend to leave. Probably use Vernon as a staging ground to attack here,” Ingrid says. “Any humans left aren’t being allowed to leave for their ‘protection.’”
“Why don’t they just make them Serfs?” I say, frowning.
“Galactic Law. As much as you might call them slavers, the Galactic Council doesn’t legally allow slavery. Serfdom—and the entry to Serfdom—is actually very structured. Outside of being legally convicted for breaking laws, you have to voluntarily agree to enter a Serf contract,” Ali says. “Of course, the number of loopholes involved in ‘convincing’ people to enter Serfdom is wide and varied, but they can’t just throw your entire people into Serfdom.”
“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 cour
se 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 horri
ble 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…”