well, this is it. the last part of CC that I'll be posting for the next 3 weeks. I have a lot coming up very soon, but I'll be back after the holidays to finish this off. as for New Smith, part 3 will be out on the weekend, but I'll be taking a shorter break from it too.
this time, everything is starting to come together. the Scions are out of their battle honeymmon now, with causalties stacking up and an arms race coming to a head, so they're in big trouble, but it looks like there are some skeletons in the closet as well. oh, and Orvin and Flick are off for a little trip to Axiom 5 for some fun away from all those responsibilities, but there will be a short chapter on their misadventures when I come back.
and, as always, enjoy this absolute mess
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Subject Memory Transcription: Orvin, Venlil Civilian
Breaking into a shipyard and “reacquiring” my ship. It sounded easy on paper, but in practice, as these things always are, it was a daunting task.
Focus. You have a job to do, so don’t get distracted
I stalked along the chain link fenceline, until I found the spot. I stopped, and let my claws cleave through the barrier like it was made of wet paper. I traced a second line down to the ground, then bent the cutaway upwards, making a clean entrance.
“Least you could do is wait for me. I mean, I know this isn’t supposed to be drawn out, but I haven’t got the stamina to just keep walking for so long” Flick leaned on the fence to catch his breath. This might be a problem. “Pass the water please.”
I fished inside my satchel, and tossed the water bottle I brought over to him. He caught it effortlessly, took a swig, and passed it back. “Look, if it’s that bad, you carry the bag and I’ll carry you, alright? We really haven’t got the time for this.” I scanned the area again, and there was still no sign of movement.
He grinned, and I could see those flat teeth glimmer under the faint ultraviolet of the moonlight. We had picked the best time to break in, as his tidally locked planet only had actual nighttime darkness for a short time every few weeks. “Sounds good. As the humans say, giddy up horsey.” I shook my head and chuckled. “Say that again and I strap you to the roof of the ship, Ini-shu gelta”
My Venlil was coming along in leaps and bounds. I barely needed my external translator anymore, and was even able to speak fairly fluently in a more casual version of the language. The writing was still a bit difficult for me, but that was more a matter of adjusting to the angular characters over the curves I was used to rather than a language barrier. Of course, none of this would be possible without that part of my brain that was custom-engineered for learning new languages quickly with the help of a second, delayed translator to feed the meaning in just after the word. But it didn’t really matter, as the main reason I was so dedicated to learning was because his face always lit up when I spoke in his native tongue, even if it was only to call him a fluffy goblin.
He gave me a gentle punch in the arm as he passed, and we kept moving. Once past the fence, we started working our way through the wide array of small spacecraft, searching for mine. When a flashlight illuminated the ground ahead, we hauled ourselves onto the wing of one of the larger crafts and waited in silence as footsteps went by. It was absolutely thrilling, this misadventure into such a heavily patrolled area.
Once the Terran guard had passed by, I dropped down silently, and caught him when he came after me, taking care not to let my high-traction boots slide on the gravel. But then, as I stepped forward, the ground crunched under me, and the Terran spun on his heels
Time to haul ass
I didn’t wait for the hairless, armoured brute to react. She stood at least a foot taller than me, and significantly wider, but I knew I could easily outrun her. I took Flick’s paw, he nodded at me, and we sprinted full-tilt down the row. The Terran yelled something from behind us, but we were rapidly putting distance between us and her. Until I ran headfirst into another one, knocking us both over. He struggled upright, but two more guards came to his aid, surrounding us.
Well, shit
But Flick stepped forward and held out a sheet of paper. The tallest of the three took it, read it, and passed it back, before saying something I couldn’t decipher into his radio and nodding at us.
“Come on, lets move. We need to find that ship.”
Flick was panting after our sudden frenzied sprint, but he somehow acted calm and collected, as if this nothing had happened.
“No, hang on, why did they just leave us alone? I don’t have my translator in, so I didn’t understand a word of what they said.” He just shook his head and laughed. “You know, bureaucracy isn’t always your enemy. Sometimes, you just need to go through the right channels to do something.”
That little shit
I was being very, very patient here with his nonsense. “So you’re telling me that we are legally allowed to be here doing this, that we could have just waltzed in through the front desk and straight up to my ship, and you just… didn’t tell me?” But he just dismissed it. “Look, we could have gone in the easy way, but you were enjoying planning our little adventure, so I opted to let you have your fun. Come on, this is the fun way.”
Then, I saw it. Those purple hand painted flames on the silver hull, and the small lumps dotted across the armour, each one showing the position of a shield generator. There it was, in all its glory, the SkyBreaker.
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Subject Memory Transcription: Commander Yek’ta, Scion Gunship Etemar
Fighting a melee battle against an Arxur horde was something every Scion dreamed of. It was exhilarating, cutting down opponents one after the other with huge blades whirling like ribbons in my massive paws. Shots ricocheted off my plate armour and sparks flew as the reptiles launched every round they had at me, but I simply pushed on.
One of them tripped as he backed away firing, and almost instinctively I swung one arm around and let go, sending three hundred kilograms of titanium straight through his chest and into the ground. A rocket burst on my back, but I shook the impact off, threw myself forward, tore the blade out from the soil and brick, and swung it around in a wide arc, tearing half a dozen Arxur in half as the razor edge sliced effortlessly through their thin body armour and snapped their bones as it passed. Nothing could defend against the sheer force of my blade, and that was evident when I brought it overhead and downwards onto one Arxur with a gigantic shield and shotgun.
The satisfying crunch of arxur being smeared and splattered like rotten fruit was enough to keep my bloodlust moving, and I slowly carved a path through the huge horde and towards my target. Nothing could stop me, nothing could get in my way. Nothing.
And then, the radio crackle.
It was just a buzz, but got louder and louder until it was a scream across every frequency. A light sprung from the upper atmosphere like a second sun, as the Etemar unloaded half of its core into the Arxur fleet above, signalling the end of the battle. The remaining reptiles fled at the sight of it, taking pot-shots as they ran, but orbital precision strikes rained down across the field like a hailstorm of nuclear wrath, tearing up the ground and reducing Arxur to atoms.
And that was it. It was so anticlimactic. I had hoped for a real fight when I was told I was being deployed as a scout team leader, but instead all I got were more targets with no satisfaction from slaying them. Of course, my team were cheering and waving their new weapons as our pickups dropped from above.
Was this really necessary for a weapons test?
Looking around at the carnage now that the adrenalin rush was over, I saw corpses in various states of mutilation scattered and splattered across the wide field that was once a blood-camp. Some of them were only hatchlings, sent in with the biggest weapons they could carry, and then smeared across rock and soil by a hurricane of bullets when they came up against us.
I shook off my sudden urge to kneel and pay respects to the fallen, and instead headed to a transport craft, which had me onboard my own ship within minutes.
“Commander, good to see you’re not injured. I thought that burster shot would have torn your armour to shreds, but I guess I was wrong.” the friendly squeaks of my new Venlil officer told me he shared no such guilt about attacking the Arxur, and I really couldn’t blame him. They had terrorised his world for centuries, and then burned his home colony to the ground once they grew bored of tormenting the defenceless fluffballs. He wanted them dead, because it was his war. We wanted them dead because…
Because what? Because you don’t like what they’re doing? Is this somehow supposed to atone for the countless atrocities your precursors committed? Is this supposed to bring some sort of cosmic forgiveness, for all the species your race tore to shreds? Or is this supposed to be your apology for what they did the the Fa’Ree
I was drifting, and the crash brought on from the sudden lack of adrenalin was making it so much worse. I could feel my whole body growing weightless, and sounds became muffled and distant as memories came back again to haunt me. I remembered those tapes we were shown in school, the ones on Scion history. Our educators used them to explain why we left behind everyone, why our home burned. But the one that stuck with me was footage of a massive Scion commander, wearing a cap almost identical to the one I wore when at the helm, tormenting a defenceless fluffy rodent that was barely a fifth of his size. It was horrifying to watch, but it cemented into my brain the idea, no, knowledge, that the old Scion ways were unforgivable crimes against all life.
The pinprick of tiny claws sinking into my forearm snapped me back to reality.
“Commander, hello, are you listening?” the Admiral was clearly frustrated, but all I could do was nod dumbly as twisted images and foggy memories swirled in my half-awake mind. “As I was saying, our tests have yielded some great results. Some fine tuning on the new rifles will be necessary, but they are very effective at reducing opponents to fine grey paste. As for ammunition, lowering the rate of fire will be necessary, as even the back-mounted belt feed can’t keep that thing running for very long, and reloading is so slow that just swapping rifles is faster, so we need more sustain. Other than that, this has been a massive success, and we’re one step closer to beating back the Arxur once and for all.”
I finally managed to force words out through my dry mouth, and croaked that I was going to go to my quarters, before passing him my helmet with the sensor data in it and heading back to my room.
I stripped the plate armour off piece by piece under the steaming water, taking care to scrub every inch clean of stains, before placing them in the bathtub of resin to seal up any scratches and reapply the coating that protected against electricity. It was a slow process, but it kept my paws and mind busy and away from the pressing questions. Finally, once the last of the heavy titanium plates was thoroughly cleansed, I let it sink in the amber goo and washed the grime and gore from my own fur. There wasn’t much to clean, as the armour gave almost complete coverage of my body, but it was still important as I didn’t want to track blood or other fluids across my room.
But as the steam and boiling water washed the filth away, those memories came back. Of that poor little creature from the tapes, played with like a toy until the commander grew bored and tossed it aside. Of my brutality with the Arxur, and how I tore a captured one to shreds with my bare paws because he laughed when I mentioned the Venlil. Of the mighty war machine that was being awakened after centuries of dormancy and brought into a galaxy utterly unprepared for it. But most of all, of the secret that the Captain could never know.
When I learned of the Federation’s crimes, I was shocked beyond belief. They tortured their own children for showing signs of a boogyman disease. They wiped entire cultures out simply for daring to eat meat. They had started this whole war, and had committed crimes just as cruel and unspeakable as any of the Arxur’s or even our own. But I could never tell anyone.
If word of such things reached the Captain, he would declare war on our supporters as well. He had no respect for diplomacy of any kind, but what scared me was that we could likely win such a pointless fight. Even without the advantage of disposable equipment, we still had the supplies to invade hundreds of worlds, and the firepower to reduce any we couldn’t reach to stardust. If the Captain knew, he would have us wipe out the whole galaxy, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Yet
I had one option, but it wasn’t a good one.
But there’s only so long you can keep this hidden. If you strike now, you can still set this right. Wait any longer, and the Captain will stop you.
I cut the water, dried off, picked up my holopad from the table, and made the call
Lets hope she picks up
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Subject Memory Transcription: First Mate Reyna, Scion City-Fleet
When the call came through, I was trying to unwind after a trying day. The Captain had been onboard this morning, and had dismembered an unfortunate security officer who had blocked his access to the bridge. He had all but thrown a tantrum once he got to the helm, and put two chairs through the rear wall when he found out I had reorganised the fleet into production arrangements rather than ordering raids all the time. He had even gone as far as to break the arm of the poor sap who was reading the casualty reports when he learned we lost over a hundred soldiers in our most recent battle.
So much for don’t shoot the messenger
With every passing day, Denver grew more unstable and more impulsive. His last order before leaving with his squadron again was to “always have a world burning”, and demanded so under threat of being fed to the Ahk-Venra if we disobeyed. Even his most loyal supporters were tired of this, and very sick of being under constant threat of injury or death when he was on deck.
And, through all of it, he still played favourites with me, as if he hadn’t left me to do all the work and run off to live out his fantasies. Maybe I would have taken his offer of leaving his door open last night if it was two months ago when I was new, but now I only was repulsed by the idea of spending any unnecessary time with that…
That monster
So, when one of the Commanders contacted me asking for the floor plan of the Captain’s ship and the whereabouts of our old Captain, I was more than happy to oblige. I knew exactly what he was doing this for, and decided to make an offer.
“Here’s the deal Commander; I give you all the supplies you need, and cover your ass if things go south, on one condition. I get to kill the Captain, without interference.”
He was more than happy to take the offer, and even gave me the option of using his personal favourite ripper blade for the job, which I happily took, as my own had been “borrowed” by Denver and likely lost somewhere onboard a cattle ship. It was time for some revenge.
I got to work planning my next meeting with Denver the moment he hung up, and had a complete plan before the clock on my wall read midnight.
Now all I need to do is wait
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Subject Memory Transcription: Captain Denver, Scion City-Fleet
The Zurulian medical fleet was hovering just off in the distance as I scanned the battlefield, searching for any survivors.
The Arxur had attacked a large shipment of medical supplies and personnel, but were too slow in disabling comms, which alerted us to their distress signals. Of course, it was a trap, but a trap set for Federation ships, not ours. In fact, these reptiles had probably never even seen our ships before, judging by the way they floundered when we dropped in.
FTL disruptors had left their energy bubbles across the system, and a million smoke trails formed a spiderweb of missile paths and railgun shots. None of it mattered though. The Arxur assault ships had been reduced to smouldering wrecks when my personal light gunship, the Eternus, had dropped out of its jump with cannons already charged, and our fighters made swift work of any remaining frigates and bombers. When the second, larger ambush fleet had arrived, however, we found trouble. They had brought an array of huge energy weapons I had never seen before. Every Arxur ship unloaded their cannons into one satellite ship, which then redirected all of that energy in a continuous beam that was strong enough to break shields.
We had lost the Eternus to that weapon. Its beam had broken through the shielding array and split the hull. Thankfully, it missed the core, so there was no detonation, but it had hit the bridge, life support, and engines as the beam slowly passed along the hull. A dozen Scion fighters lay in ruins around the satellite, unfortunate enough to get caught in the beam as they went in for the killing blow.
It was that moment that every Arxur had learned what a Scion’s wrath truly looked like. I had led a fighter sweep across their fleet and reduced them to nuclear smears across the fabric of spacetime, making sure to cut down every single escape ship as they left. We had sent huge boarding parties onto every Zurulian ship and hunted every last reptile with the same brutal ferocity that they showed to their prey.
Of course, the fleet was extremely grateful for their salvation, regarding our losses as minimal, as it was a fairly small ship that was lost. They had given us one of their transport frigates to carry our wounded fighters home, as well as medical supplies galore to patch our wounds. But I knew that nothing could replace this loss.
While most species could simply create a new ship to replace lost ones, Scions had no such advantage. Every fighter, every frigate, every gunship, was an irreplaceable relic from an age long gone, the knowledge of their workings destroyed three centuries ago. Losing even the Eternus was a crippling blow, as that meant thousands of lives and hundreds of invaluable parts were now gone, snuffed out by a weapon that the Arxur could easily rebuild and spread across the galaxy.
I brought the communications link up between my ship and the Solaris, which was sitting a few hundred lightyears away on the surface of a cleansed world. Reyna answered, looking as tired as ever. “Yes, Captain? I assume you’re calling to tell me that it was just another Arxur attack?” she was very tired of being the replacement Captain while I was gone, but there was always something that needed my personal attention. “No,” I replied, much to her surprise. “I’m calling to announce the loss of the Eternus. The Arxur made a weapon that can break our shields and armour, and tore open the ship from nose to tail, thankfully not hitting the core. We’re returning in a commandeered Zurulian frigate, so hold your fire when you see us in orbit. While I’m on my way, I need you to gather every commander for a meeting in my quarters.”
She was staring slack-jawed, so I cut the transmission and prepped our engines for the next jump. Of course, I had to overheat my core to generate a warp bubble large enough to cover our makeshift fleet, but it was nothing my ship couldn’t handle with a bit of coaxing.
When we arrived in orbit, the gunship Riori took the frigate onboard, while I broke atmosphere and made a landing in the starboard hangar on the Solaris. It was only a short trip from there to my quarters, and then I was seated at the large round table surrounded by commanders.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m here to report a very concerning development in the Arxur arsenal. They appear to have created a sort of focusing device to turn ion volleys from a full fleet into a single concentrated beam. They used this against us in an ambush attack, which caused the loss of the gunship Eternus.”
There was a chorus of gasps and muttered curses as I put my ship’s nose cam footage onto a large screen on the wall. As the video played, a single orange pinprick hit the very tip of the Eternus, causing the shields to glow as they resisted the damage. Then, a pulse as the beam widened into its full power, and there was a shimmer across the impact area as shields gave out. The beam moved slowly across the side of the ship, hitting gun emplacements and launch tubes alike and causing smaller explosions all across the surface, until finally it stopped as the focusing lens was destroyed by a nuclear warhead knocking it out of position and into the path of a missile barrage.
“Everyone, this is no longer a leisure battle. Now, we can’t just send in small assault teams to burn outposts and disable ships. We need to stop all of our small assaults and end this war, together. I have gathered you here today, not to ask for your cooperation, not to request ships, but to instruct all of you to prepare for a full fleet assault tomorrow morning. In 23 hours, we will jump to the Arxur forge-world of Nitanka, and destroy it. No more capturing prisoners, no more mercy. We are going to send a clear message to every reptile in the galaxy, that we are not playing games anymore.” I took a deep breath as the commanders began their muttering and arguing again, before continuing.
“Every single one of you is commanding a ship that can scorch an entire system and reduce fleets to rubble, and it’s about time we made use of them. From this day forward, we work as one fleet. The Scion fleet.”
One of them stood up and slammed her fist on the table. I Recognised this commander due to her size as Mra’sha, a skilled logistics expert and true hardened warrior from our many farm-world raids. She had always been firmly with me on anything involving the Arxur, until now. “Captain, this is absurd. We lost one light gunship, and now you’re demanding we all pull back and just let the Arxur reclaim those worlds we fought tooth and claw for?” even though she was the only one saying it, I could tell that this was the general feeling of a lot of my commanders, and it needed to be addressed.
“No. I’m saying we regroup, and put an end to the Arxur once and for all. They can’t make a move on our liberated territories if we cut their command and their supply lines off. This isn’t a question of who does what, this is now a race against time. If the enemy can build enough weapons before we kill them all, it’s over for us, and probably for the Federation as well. So we’re not abandoning worlds, we’re pushing forward and finishing what we started.”
It took hours of endless debating before every commander was with me. The only one missing from the meeting was Yek’ta, who was currently on a deployment to an Arxur blood-camp in a weapons test, but I would brief him on the situation when he returned. For now, we could go without the Etemar’s support. 27 heavy gunships and 14 cargo carriers should be more than enough to cover the Solaris while we charged up cannons. Of course, I didn’t tell Reyna about any of this. Despite how hard she worked, I could tell she despised me for all my absence, and would likely kill me on the spot if I told her what I was planning.
Despite everything that had happened to us recently, the Scion fleet was mostly untouched. In fact, only around three hundred losses had been sustained across all of our infantry deployments. But that was all about to change now that the enemy could do real damage to us.
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Subject Memory Transcription: Commander Yek’ta, Scion Gunship Etemar
I couldn’t sleep that night, so instead I spent hours endlessly browsing our archives. Every major ship in the fleet had a data core holding all of the knowledge that we escaped with, and being the commander of this one, I had unrestricted access to all of it. Of course, huge amounts were lost or deleted in the first generation of our journey, but there was still most of our history in here.
I dug and dug, going through endless security checks, before eventually I found what I was looking for: the file on the Fa’Ree. Before opening it, I double checked the room for any spyware, and ran a full diagnostic on my holopad just in case someone had been tracing me. Nothing came up though, so I continued.
Species Name: Fa’Ree
Home World: A380N6K “Mik’Raka”
Description: small, furred rodents. Average height of 108cm, average weight of 34kg. Extremely flexible, cold resistant, and resilient, with high pain tolerance.
Nature: Submissive, docile, easily intimidated. Often willing to risk injury to please superior beings. Revere Scions as god-like powers.
History: The Fa’Ree were a race founded in the 4th genesis fleet’s sweep across sector L in 96457. Life began as small reptiles, before Fa’Ree emerged from subterranean tunnel networks to hunt said reptiles once their planet stabilised. Once contacted by Scion diplomats and properly uplifted, the Fa’Ree were able to use advanced decryption knowledge to unlock salvaged Scion data core C-457-L, and discovered their true origins. Immediately after this, a cultural revolution brought a religious institute to power, which then began the later widespread practice of Scion worship. Following this, large colonies were established on Scion 2, before a mass migration of 97% of Fa’Ree population to Scion 1 & 2.
Following the mass migration, Scion officials discovered the extreme flexibility and resilience of Fa’Ree in a medical study, which led to them being implemented as servants across Scion fleets. Most Fa’Ree were used as cooking and repair personnel, or in other less popular roles generally considered dull. Across the Scion empire, approximately 200 Fa’Ree worlds were established, yielding a total of over 3.7 trillion servants.
Of particular note on the Fa’Ree is their cultural hierarchy post-migration. Fa’Ree culture was reorganised around the worship and servitude of Scions, with large facilities being constructed for the sole purpose of finding the most suitable roles for individuals. Fa’Ree were noted to be very obedient and respectful, as well as very dismissive of any injuries sustained during service. Higher ranking Fa’Ree would often have just 1 to 2 offspring per family unit, and send their young into temporary servitude once they came of age before allowing them to become leaders. This was generally considered to be a test of sorts, and only those who returned strong would be allowed to wear the traditional ruby studded robes given to royalty.
There was a photo attached of a Scion diplomat standing with a trio of well-dressed Fa’Ree, with a fourth sitting on his shoulders in what looked to be a polyoxide synthetic dress, which even in the height of the empire’s technological prowess, would have cost a small fortune to manufacture. Looking closer, I could see the collar on the dress-wearing rodent’s wrist, which had a faint green glow to it. That would be the depleted uranium bracelet that was so infamous as a sign of servitude.
I felt sick just looking at the picture. Everyone looked so happy, even the poor slave that was returning from 2 years of servitude. Seeing such a vulnerable species so brainwashed, so helpless, made me want to smash this screen and never look again. But I knew this wasn’t just a history lesson. Knowing that the Scions had done such horrific cultural genocide before was one thing, but with how easily manipulated federation species were, it would likely become a repeating pattern. I couldn’t bring myself to finish the species dossier.
I flicked the screen off and closed my eyes, letting the low hum of our engines lull me into a deep sleep free from nightmares of not too long gone demons.
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I smile as I watch Rezlar collapse after the fight. He’s not hurt, just exhausted. I can’t really blame him, either. He did a lot of heavy lifting in that fight, which Freddie and Rhonda clearly appreciate. The goblin pulls a little blue potion from her belt and hands it to the supine elf, who eagerly downs it. He sighs as energy fills him, or at least his mana. I dunno if it’s technically a different thing from something like stamina.
 
He gives Rhonda a tired thumbs-up, to the laughter of all gathered, and I let them enjoy their victory. The twinsnake was a great challenge for them, and I’m glad to see it seems to be keeping the properties as it waits to respawn. I think it might need the occasional touch up, but they’ll be great as a wandering boss in the caverns.
 
I can feel Violet looking more seriously at the expansion, too. She seems to be a bit inspired by the show, which I didn’t even intend. Still, if it gets her to expand quicker, I’ll take it. Expanding gets a dungeon so much good stuff to play with.
 
I don’t quite cross off getting Violet to expand from my to-do list yet. Don’t go making checks before they’re cashed… or something. I also can’t quite check off Rocky’s new boxing arena, even if it’s progressing nicely. It does make me look at two of the other items on it that I should really get going officially on.
 
One is in getting Leo to go check on the Southwood and the progress of the trail there. I could just poke him to get going, but I instead poke Teemo to go check on him. He’s been gathering a few supplies and ensuring the tundra wolves will be ready to join him. As I focus in on him, I even see Honey buzzing around, which seems strange. Probably a good idea to get Teemo in there to see what they’re up to.
 
Only a minute or two pass before Teemo exits a shortcut in the library, where Honey is buzzing around, her bees covering Leo’s saddlebag things. The wolf scion stands stoically as Honey works, though he nods at Teemo as he enters.
 
“Heya Leo, Honey. She helping you get ready?” asks Teemo, unable to keep from smiling at the scene.
 
Leo considers for a moment before shaking his head and growling a response.
 
“Us?”
 
Honey does a little buzzing dance before returning to her work, and Teemo looks confused.
 
“Uh… Boss? Honey says she’s going with him.”
 
Huh. Why?
 
Teemo relays my question, and Honey starts doing an elaborate dance routine, which Teemo quickly interrupts. “The Boss doesn’t need an itemized list, Honey. He just wants to know why you’d want to leave the library, especially for something potentially dangerous like this.”
 
Her reply dance feels a bit curt, and I don’t doubt for a moment that she’s upset about not getting to actually dance out a detailed essay on why she should go. Still, she gives Teemo the tl;dr, which he relays.
 
“She says she wants to make sure Leo has all the information he’ll need. She can create maps and explore easier than he can… at least for a while. She has calculations to prove Leo and the wolves can keep her and the colony she’ll be taking warm, too, but I don’t think she’ll need to show them, yeah?”
 
Uh, yeah, I believe her. I’m not against her going, just a bit surprised, is all.
 
Leo yips with a grin, getting a laugh from Teemo.
 
“Leo says she just wants to get closer to the new information. There’s not much on the Green Sea, so of course she wants to be one of the first to actually provide details.”
 
Honey manages to huff and buzz at the same time, before returning to her packing.
 
“She’s probably loading up a few other wolves with stuff, too?” Teemo asks, and Leo nods. “That’s fine then. Bats and birds will still be sent out, too, so you should be easily in contact with the Boss. When will you two be ready to head out?”
 
Leo tilts his head as he thinks, before giving a soft wuff, which Teemo nods at. “He says not long after sunset. It’ll be easier to rally the tundras and make a quieter exit that way.”
 
Works for me. Do they need anything special?
 
Teemo asks and Leo shakes his head. “Nah, looks like they have everything they think they’ll need. Honey actually has some go juice and a bit of the metal elixir, too. I have no idea what she’ll use it for.”
 
How about healing?
 
“She says she’ll be bringing along a lot of healing ants. She’d like a healing slime, but they just don’t fit in a saddlebag.”
 
Ah, right. Did you and Thing ever figure out how to make bags of holding?
 
“Not quite, but I think we can manage. Probably not until after they go, though.”
 
That’s fine. We can send a wolf with a healing slime in one later. Heh, probably along with you, Teemo. I’d like to have shortcuts between the outposts, if you can manage that?
 
My Voice whistles at that. “That’s gonna be a thing. I should be able to manage, but it won’t be quick.”
 
Can you manage before the end of winter?
 
“Hmm… probably. Having a tundra wolf to ride would make it a lot easier, too. Winter’s supposed to be pretty rough, but at least it can’t snow inside one of my shortcuts.”
 
Cool. Well, if Leo and Honey don’t need any help preparing, I do have one other thing I’d like to at least get started on today.
 
“Sounds like you have another something big in mind, Boss.”
 
Yeah… I want to ask Aranya more about how she came here. She’s implied there are more kobolds, and that they’re not doing great. If I can, I’d like to be able to do something to help.
 
“Where is she?”
 
Looks like… she’s hanging out with Norloke, having a nice bit of tea and chatting.
 
“Then I’ll be there in a couple minutes, Boss.”
 
No rush.
 
I focus in on their conversation, and I see Aranya smile as she sets her tea down.
 
“Ah, Lord Thedeim is here.”
 
“He always is,” replies Norloke with a motherly smile, before realizing Aranya doesn’t mean it metaphorically. “Oh! The Weaver is paying us attention?” She looks around, and Aranya nods.
 
“He is, though I don’t think it’s anything too serious.”
 
“I should hope not! He considers things like the scythemaws and the attack by Hullbreak to be serious! I’ve had enough seriousness to last me a while, thank you.”
 
“Well, you know the Weaver, Norloke. He’s not happy if he’s not whittling away at something that most would just leave alone,” Aranya replies with a grin. She might be able to hide it from Norloke with her cup, but I can still see it. Are all High Priestesses so cheeky, or am I just rubbing off on her?
 
“The Boss says you’re being cheeky,” says Teemo as he enters the cozy room, and Aranya simply smirks.
 
“And yet I haven’t been smote.” Teemo laughs with her, though Norloke just rolls her eyes like a mother whose child refuses to be as reverent as they should be. “Does Lord Thedeim need me?” she asks with more seriousness.
 
“Yeah, but nothing dangerous. Well, nothing that he expects will be dangerous, at least. He wants to know more about how you got here, and how the kobolds are faring deeper down. He’s going to be expanding more eventually, and he wants to help more than just the people on the surface, you know?”
 
Aranya grimaces as several emotions flicker across her features. Not really a surprise that her past is complicated. She takes a deep breath and tries to focus herself, and nods.
 
“I… had been hoping He would be interested, but didn’t want to ask. He’s already given so much.” She sighs again and firms her resolve. “This is probably a good time to talk about it, too. May I ask the rest of the Triumvirate to listen, as well as Elder Larx? The enclaves may have to deal with more than just tunnel horrors if You expand much deeper.”
 
That’s fair. Teemo, you want to go get Larx?
 
“You want me to bring Larx here, or do you all want to go visit him at the ratkin enclave?”
 
“We can go visit him,” speaks up Norloke. “No need to make him walk all the way here, even if he uses a shortcut. I’ll gather the others and we can meet him at his enclave.”
 
Aranya nods at that. “Would you please tell him to expect us, Teemo?”
 
“Yeah, I can do that. See you there!” With that, Teemo slips into a shortcut, leaving Aranya and Norloke to prepare to get going.
 
I leave them to it as I try to not let my mind wander with the possibilities of what Aranya will say. I’ve been trying to ignore this partially because I didn’t think I could do much about it. With her state when she first got here, it’s easy to guess kobolds aren’t doing so hot. If I can’t change it, I’d rather not know the details. But after dealing with Hullbreak, or at least getting past the first hurdle, there’s a very real chance I could actually help them.
 
 
< [Next>]
 
 
Cover art Want moar? Discord is a thing! I now have a Patreon for monthly donations, and I have a Ko-fi for one-off donations. Patreons can read up to three chapters ahead, and also get a few other special perks as well. Thank you again to everyone who is reading!

While doing some archeology digging* in http://web.archive.org/ and have noticed that this sub in the past had altcoins and BTC tipping (not sure who created the bot, but it wasn't a built-in feature). Unfortunately it didn't last long but the bot's profile still exists and you may check all the transactions by visiting ALTcointip.
One transaction that struck my eye was from im14 to SeansOutpost for 0.0770042 BTC (link):

I just wanna be part of history. *tips $10*sorry I don't have much..

"Not much" then is worth $2k now.
And if you open the original comment and scroll up just a little bit, you could see that u/MartinGale888 has donated whooping $7.2k to the shelter (56.77337959 BTC) (link). Now that donation is worth $1.5m.
Why am I sharing this? IDK, I just find it wholesome that people donate crypto, especially for charity. Big and small amounts. That shelter most likely sold BTC, since they had bills to pay and people to feed but you may want to hold your fractions of BTC tight and do not sell unless you must. Who knows where we will be in 10 years from now?
\ I was looking into what people were recommending to buy 10 years ago and boy oh boy ... just buy BTC/ETH if you plan on holding long term -* link.
Edit: u/AD1AD thanks for the tip!

Cover Art!
Just because you’re transported to another world, doesn’t mean you’ll escape from your pain.
Abused by her parents, thirteen-year-old Frances only wants to be safe and for her life not to hurt so much. And when she and her class are transported to the magical world of Durannon to fight the monsters invading the human kingdoms and defeat the self-titled Demon King, Frances is presented with a golden opportunity. If she succeeds, Frances will have the home she never had. If she fails, Frances will be summoned back to the home she escaped.
Yet, despite her newfound magic and friends, Frances finds that trauma is not so easily lost. She is dogged by her abuse and its physical and invisible scars. Not only does she have to learn magic, she has to survive the nightmares of her past, and wrestle with her feelings of doubt and self-loathing.
If she can heal from her trauma, though, she might be able to defeat the Demon King and maybe, just maybe, she can find a home for herself.
Teaser: Martin and Ginger are thrust into an unenviable role.
[The Beginning] [<=Chapter 182 part 2] [Chapter Index and Blurb] [Chapter 184 on April 5 or now on patreon ]
The Fractured Song Index
Discord Channel Just let me know when you arrive in the server that you’re a Patreon so you can access your special channel.
Despite his curly crimson beard and heavyset build King Jerome was quite a mild-mannered man. His soft chin and cheekbones lent the man a face more inclined to smiling than scowling.
He was doing both, which wasn’t something Martin nor Ginger had seen that. His eyes were narrowed and brow furrowed. His lips however were tilted in a wry smile.
“We did give you the authority to make treaties with Queen Janize directly, but these are harsh terms for us, Sir Martin, Lady Ginger.”
Martin had set up their mirror so he and Ginger were standing in front of it. He dipped his head, placing one hand over his chest. “I am afraid I don’t see any other option, Your Majesty. You know of the strategic situation and the dragons that Thorgoth has under his command. We didn’t want the civil war in the first place, but now we must end it or risk annihilation.”
Queen Forowena, despite her limp, was pacing around her chair. One hand clenched her chin. “We don’t even know if Janize will agree to meet with us in the first place. Though, that’s beside the point. You want to know if we ought to approve of this at all.”
“Yes ma’am, I mean, Your Majesties.” Ginger swallowed. “More importantly, we want to know if there are any terms you are demanding Queen Janize to accept.”
The eyes of Forowena and Jerome met. No words passed between them. Jerome only raised a thick eyebrow and Forowena nodded, before turning to the pair. “No, but I do have one question. Did Elizabeth and Frances tell you about my infertility?”
Martin winced, whilst Ginger coughed officiously. “Elizabeth did, Your Majesty. She said that she will take full responsibility for that breach, and states that trying to keep the secret was impossible given the nature of her mission and our involvement in it.”
Nodding, Martin braced himself and clasped his hands behind his back. “Which brings the question, Your Majesty, with all due respect, did you intend for us to assassinate Queen Janize and her child?”
Forowena and Jerome again glanced at one another. This time, Jerome was giving his wife a knowing smile and the Earl was pinching her nose.
“To speak truthfully, Sir Martin, Lady Ginger, we were not sure ourselves whether we wanted to kill Janize if she was pregnant. We have continued to debate the question and its consequences,” said Forowena.
Jerome grimaced. “What we knew for sure was that Erisdale had to be put to siege. Now, I argued that my sister should be spared as with her child.”
“And I argued that Janize and her child were a threat to our rule and our chosen successors. I don’t want to kill them for both moral and practical reasons, but I was not sure how to neutralise them.” The Earl ran a hand through her hair and glanced at her husband. “Dear, I believe that we can accept most of the terms that Martin and Ginger have offered our behalf except for the second point.”
The king took her hand, running his scarred fingers over Forowena’s knuckles “You are correct my dear. We will allow Janize's child to enter the line of succession, but we have chosen our successors.”
Martin did his best to keep his expression neutral. “Your Majesty, I don’t understand. There’s no other direct descendant of House Grey left.”
Forowena sighed, her eyes meeting Martin and Ginger’s. “No. That’s why after very careful thinking, we planned to appoint our successors. We have even talked to all the other lords and ladies who support us and even our kingdom’s most powerful mages. That’s why there’s no way we can fully accept that second condition. It would be impractical if not impossible to get them to switch their support.”
Martin frowned. He suddenly recalled a call where his mothers and sister had given him a very strange look. They seemed oddly proud, even when they’d just been talking about family gossip.
Jerome nodded, “That and we would still be at war with Alavaria. A child successor would be inherently less appealing, and especially one underneath the influence of Queen Janize at that.”
Rubbing her temples, Forowena drawled, “It’s also why Janize and her child are such a threat. Unless Janize formally renounces her claim, she’d always be able to make a bid for the throne through her child. Not to mention she could just influence the throne through her child if he or she becomes ruler of Erisdale.”
Ginger coughed into her fist. Lifting her chin, she glared defiantly at the mirror. “With all due respect, Your Majesties, it would be better than continuing this pointless civil war. So long as we execute Darius and strip the rest of the Traditionalists of their power, who cares if Janize has some influence over her child? She won’t be able to harm Alavari in Erisdale, or affect lasting change. We’ll still be here. We’ll watch her and if she goes too far we will have Queen Titania’s Alavaria assisting us.”
Martin narrowed his eyes. Forowena and Jerome were exchanging looks again. Both were smiling at each other, but the ends of their lips were curled into just a bit of a smirk.
“Your Majesties, perhaps you can enlighten us on who you decided to be your successors? If they are not a very popular choice, maybe we can accept Janize’s terms.” The knight watched the king and queen carefully as his words hung in the air. He watched as King Jerome blinked, tried to avert his gaze, before forcing himself to look him in the eye. He noted how Queen Forowena forced her features into an expressionless mask.
Martin felt a cold shiver run through the very core of his being. Unconsciously he grabbed Ginger’s hand. His fiance blinked, tuning to look at him with wide eyes. Martin swallowed.
“That is, unless for some insane reason you’ve chosen me and Ginger?”
The queen let out a small breath, while trying to keep her neutral expression. Jerome’s shoulders sagged and he patted Forowena’s shoulder. “Told you he’d figure it out.”
Ginger’s head whipped back to face the royal couple. “Wait, what? Impossible. I’m a commoner. A former convict!”
Forowena’s eyes narrowed and her voice rose. “You’re also popular with the people, one of our national heroes. If your little rebuke to us was any indication, you also are loyal not to Erisdale’s monarchy, but our country and people. As for the matter of your commoner background, you’re marrying Martin and you know what that means.”
Ginger hands clasped behind her head, almost screamed, “Yes, I am marrying into a distant relation of the Royal Family and one of the founding noble houses of Erisdale. I was ready for that! You’re asking me—us to become King and Queen of Erisdale!”
“Yes.” Forowena growled, bitter tears wetting her eyes. “And we would never do so if there was no other option, Lady Ginger, but I can’t conceive a child!”
Jerome’s hand reached over to squeeze his queen’s shoulder. “And there’s no way I’m divorcing my queen. I am a man of my word and I vowed to be with Forowena until death do us part. That won’t change.”
Martin coughed to clear his throat and crossed his arms. “Then why didn’t you just have a surrogate give birth to your child, Your Majesty? I know it would be shameful but did you consider that we may not want to be king and queen?”
The king blinked, looking a little like an owl caught by torchlight. Forowena grimaced. “I did discuss this with Jerome, but I couldn’t quite convince him. You do have a good point, Sir Martin. However, even if Jerome did finally agree to father a child with a surrogate, we would still want you and Ginger to become the next King and Queen.”
“Right, potential child ruler. Not good for Erisdale,” Ginger muttered.
Forowena grimaced. “That and how many children could Jerome father? He cannot simply start fathering children haphazardly. More importantly, children are vulnerable. Even if by some miracle I could bear children, I would push for you both to be added in the line of succession.”
Jerome nodded solemnly. “Neither of us are willing to risk the fate of Erisdale on a child, even if it was our own. Considering that our original discussion was about the potential for Janize’s child to inherit, I think you see our point.”
Ginger, biting the tip of her thumb, yanked her hand out of her mouth. “We couldn’t have been that popular a choice, though…right?”
Forowena grinned. “You weren’t everybody’s first choice, but you were on the lips of many and once we started to seriously press those who were hesitant, they agreed you two were the best option. They even pledged to support you.”
Ginger glanced at her husband, but he was still crossing his arms. He’d gone so still for a moment she wondered if he was breathing. Then her mind caught up with her.
“Every lord and lady under your command agreed on us?” she stammered.
“Including your sister Mara, Martin,” said Jerome.
Clutching her hands, Ginger took a deep breath. “But why not Lady Edana—
“Of Erlenberg and not Erisdalian,” said Forowena.
“Frances!”
Jerome shook his head, wincing. Forowena sighed. “Otherworlder and clearly too close to Prince Timur to make her look out for Erisdale’s interest.”
Ginger pressed a hand over her mouth, her free hand clenching into a fist and opening. “Shit. This…this is really happening.”
Martin closed his eyes and nodded. “I believe so. My…personal feelings aside, I will do my duty. But what do we tell Janize?”
“That we’ve appointed our own successors, but her child will be in the line of succession, with our successors house to take precedent over her own. That might complicate the succession law for the future, but that can be resolved in time.” Forowena snapped her fingers. “Ah, and we will also make it a condition that the amount wealth and land confiscated will be determined on the basis of who the Traditonalists persecuted and to provide compensation for property damaged by their forces in the war.”
Martin and Ginger exchanged a glance. “Including Alavari, Your Majesty?” Martin asked, his voice quiet.
Jerome nodded. “That is the intention, Sir Martin. Now…I believe you and your fiance have much to discuss. If that is all, you may request to be dismissed.”
“We do wish, Your Majesties,” said Martin, bowing. Ginger mirrored her fiance and the images of the king and queen faded.
Promptly walking over to one of their chests, Ginger fished into it and drew out a bottle of wine.
“Care for glass?” she asked as she fetched a goblet.
Martin sat down heavily onto his bedroll. “Yes. We…well nothing is guaranteed. I mean we haven’t even gotten married yet.”
Ginger poured herself and her fiance two glasses and handed one to Martin. “But we pledged to after the war, and so have the other lords and ladies of Erisdale. Damnit, of course Frances, Elizabeth and the others would support us, but everybody else?”
“It’s unexpected, but now that I think about it, most people wouldn’t want to be named heirs to Erisdale. It’ll be a hard job rebuilding this kingdom after the war and essentially starting a new dynasty.”
Sitting down, Ginger sipped from her glass. “Dynasty. Fuck, I’ll have to do something about my family.”
“Give your parents a stipend and nothing else.” Martin pursed his lips. “Of course, if you don’t want to be queen, Ginger, you can just—”
His fiance leant against his shoulder. “Finish that sentence and I will smack you. We’re in this together, Martin.”
“I know and I love you. I just wanted to make sure.” Martin took a deep gulp of wine and swallowed hard. “Hopefully, this is the last of the big responsibilities we get.”
Ginger snorted. “I would not bet on it my dear knight.”
Her fiance chuckled, before his lips pinched together. “Promise that you’ll never start calling me Your Majesty, please.”
Wrapping her arm around the blonde man, Ginger smiled. “You’ll always be my shining knight, Martin. Nothing will change that.”
“Thank you, Ginger.”
Pulling her feet off the table where Janize’s mirror was and sliding them back into slippers, Leila crossed her arms. “How many years since you’ve seen your brother?”
“Not since the civil war started, so about two years.” Janize smiled gave Leila a peck on the cheek. “Honestly, I am both irritated and a little proud of Jerome. I didn’t expect him to hold out, much less turn the tables on me. I always teased him when we were younger. He was too honorable, to the point that he was dumb. I suppose he just needed to find the right group of people to help him along. How long before the meeting by the way?”
Leila glanced at the high noon sun outside. “Not long now. I’ve also redoubled the security spells and checked the room.”
Janize nodded serenely. “Good. Anything else you can think of with regards to the conditions we have and their terms?”
The Otherworlder tapped her fingers on her arm. “Well, it’s not exactly something they demanded, but it might come up. They probably will demand compensation for the Alavari that we’ve been experimenting on. It’s probably why they demanded land and wealth from our rebelling nobles.”
“Pardon?”
Leila frowned, meeting Janize’s narrowed grey eyes. “I mean, it’ll be hard to argue with them. They’ve captured several of the labs and have our research notes—”
Janize raised her hand, her usually relaxed brow now furrowed. “Leila, what are you talking about? What do you mean by labs and experiments?”
The Otherworlder’s eyes widened and she found herself sitting up ramrod straight. “Um, is this a particularly amusing prank of yours?”
“We are minutes away from a critical meeting. Why would I joke about this with you now?” Janize hissed.
Leila blinked and slowly shook her head. “You’re kidding me. There’s no way you could have not been aware of this. The castles and labs were garrisoned with army troops and Red Order mages.”
“Leila this is the first time I’ve heard about these labs and castles—” Janize grimaced as the mirror began to glow, the sign that a call was coming. “Oh dear. Oh dear. I…I suppose I will have to request to be informed.” Settling herself, the queen touched the mirror and watched as King Jerome, Queen Forowena, Elizabeth, Ayax, Martin and Ginger appeared.
“Hello Janize,” said Jerome, coolly.
Janize smiled without mirth. “Greetings, Jerome. I must begin this meeting with a bit of a somewhat incredulous confession. But please bring me up to date on what exactly has been going on in the labs you have found that were apparently operated by my forces?”
The queen’s smile thinned as sceptical scowls and narrowed eyes met her question. Ayax blinked, tail whipping side to side. “You’re joking right?”
Janize cut before the stunned looking Reformists could ask another question. “I wish I was, but I was just informed by Leila here that they did exist. Speaking of which, how did you come to know about them, Leila? This is not something discussed in my palace.”
A grim, almost haunted look came over Leila’s face. “I found out about it recently as well. A few months ago, Master Scarlet of the Red Order requested Otherworlder assistance in defending their outposts and castles. They had no strategic value so we pressed her and she told us they were magical research laboratories and they couldn’t move the research easily. After that meeting, Earl Darius tried to convince me, saying that it would please Janize if I sallied forth. I wouldn’t normally have believed him, but our situation was so desperate I thought it made sense. I started to prepare a counterattack, but then it didn’t matter anyway because you folks in the Lightning Battalion started to attack them and there is no way in hell we would survive a fight with a full army division.”
Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth tried her best to get her own temper and confusion under control. “You mean you weren’t told what was going on in there? When did you find out about the children?”
“Our standing orders were to take Alavari prisoners of war and hand them over to the Red Order. So I figured—” Leila dropped her arms to her side. “Hold on. Children? What the fuck are you talking about? I thought they were experimenting with prisoners of war and criminals?”
A cold snarl twisting her normally serene expression, Ayax rose to her feet. “You Traditionalists haven’t even been fighting the Alavari! How could you have gotten prisoners of war? And experimenting on them is still wrong!”
Feeling a headache coming on, Janize gingerly massaged the side of her temple. “Wait, children? I thought that was propaganda you were spreading. Where the hell did you even get children from?”
“From the Alavari that lived in Erisdale, and from those that you kidnapped from Alavaria!” Elizabeth hissed.
“I authorized funding and troops for magical research, not that.” Her stony-masked stoicism wavered as her lips twitched. It was as if the queen was trying to prevent a wince. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, but this is extraordinary.”
His eyes narrowed, King Jerome leaned onto his elbows. “Janize, I don’t understand. How could you have known nothing? You don’t trust Earl Darius or Master Scarlet that much.”
Janize pulled her hands from her temples. Drawing herself straight, she narrowed her eyes at the mirror. “No I don’t, but this is the first time I’ve heard about these experiments.”
Leila blinked. She knew her lover better now and as good at hiding her feelings the queen was, she did have some subtle tells. In this case, her shoulders were just a bit too stiff, stretching skin across her high collarbone. “Janize, I’m sorry, but that’s…not entirely true isn’t it?”
The queen tilted her head toward the Otherworlder. Her grey eyes glared daggers at Leila for a brief moment, before she turned back to the mirror. In an arch tone, she hissed between gritted teeth, “I know they were making mana batteries. However, it’s the first time I’ve heard about children. I have been suspicious about why Master Scarlet and Earl Darius require so many facilities for some time and have been trying to audit them. They’ve been stonewalling me with magical and military jargon or burying it in budget books under nondescript lines.”
Leila blinked. “Oh that’s why you were asking me what those words meant.”
“Yes, dear. Now, if the interrogation is over, I will agree to offer compensation to those children and their surviving family members. In return, I have my own conditions.”
Forowena sneered. “Name them. We have our own conditions as well.”
Janize grinned back. “First, my child is not to be next in line to the throne of Erisdale. In fact, I would like to renounce my right of succession and that of my child.”
It was rather hard for Elizabeth, Ayax and their allies to hide their surprise. Admirably, King Jerome only managed to show his shock through a series of rapid blinks. “That’s a major concession, sister.”
The queen turned her chin up. “In return, once you depose Earl Darius, you grant me his personal lands and make me an Earl.”
Crossing her arms, her thoughts racing a mile-a-minute, Elizabeth muttered. “You’d become Erisdale’s chief powerbroker.”
“I am surrendering after all and most of my allies will be gone. You got to give me something. Besides, if I remain Earl, I’d be able to keep what remains of the Traditonalists in check. Exile honestly doesn’t suit me, as comfortable as it would be. I want my child to have a future, not one where he or she has no allies and is bound to the crown.”
Forowena and Jerome glanced at one another, exchanging frowns.
Martin also looked to Ginger, who shook her head. He nodded. They’d had their own discussion about Janize’s possible offers and they had their own opinion.
“Go get em, Martin,” Ginger rasped.
The knight swallowed and coughed officiously. “If I may be so bold, Your Majesties, I propose we grant Queen Janize a county, not an earldom. In return, we shall protect her from reprisals and reparations that the Crown of Alavaria will undoubtedly request.”
Leila rolled her eyes. “What crimes? As you said, we didn’t fight Alavaria.”
A shit-eating grin blossomed over Ginger’s face. Idly twirling a lock of her hair, she crossed her legs. “Earl Darius’s forces kidnapped Queen Titania’s niece, Princess Morgan Greyhammer from the Alavari Academy of Magic and subjected her to a year of torture and experimentation.”
In the silence that followed, all that could be heard was Leila trying not to sputter. Janize was quiet and still. Yet the color was drained from her face.
“That dumb bastard,” Janize whispered.
Leila slammed her fist on the table, causing Janize to flinch. “Fuck.”
“So a county it is, then?” Ginger asked in an airy tone.
“Yes. Do you confirm your side of your terms?” Janize asked.
“We do. Our demand was that your child could not be our successor, which you have agreed to.”
“So the dynasty of the House of Grey ends I suppose.” Janize let out a shuddering breath and shook her head. “Then who is to be your successor?”
Martin and Ginger clasped each other’s hands in unison before facing the group.
“We are,” said Martin slowly.
“Until someone better is found,” said Ginger.
Janize arched an eyebrow. Leila sighed. The queen, however, nudged her Otherworlder quiet and gave a nod of assent. “A wise choice. Shall we continue?”
Author’s Note: So yeah, this is a bit of a twist, let’s see what happens.

“A Rose by any Other Name” Part 5
(Part 1) (Previous) (Next Part)
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(First Chapter) / (Previous) / (Next Chapter)
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A Fanfic of u/SpacePaladin15’s work “The nature of Predators” Thank you for the story!
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Memory transcription subject: Talen, Prime News Anchor
Date [standardized human time]: September 1st, 2136
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I was honestly surprised that Kotaka allowed me to go back to work so soon after the incident. I imagine this was about all he could think to do, to help me out. Give me something productive to do while I sorted my life out.
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Kotaka held up a paw while watching the control monitors. He brought down one digit, then another, and finally pointed to me with the last one to let me know we were live.
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“Breaking news. The Venlil and Human that have been missing in action since the Arxur attack on the Outpost station that was hosting half of the Human-Venlil Exchange Program on [August 21st], have made their way back to us in a stolen Federation craft.” I let out a sigh. “The Human known as Marcel was in a critical condition, while his partner Slanek was injured but stable. We will now show you a recording of the incident. If you are prone to fainting or other outbursts please block this show for the next [minute] as the contents of this video are quite disturbing.”
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I watched the video captured on the station as it played to the billions here on Venlil Prime. I knew its contents, yet still felt a sense of dread. That could have easily been Elva and Trissa, maybe even Rose and myself if I wasn’t such a pathetic excuse for a man. The video showed Human paramedics carrying Marcel’s form on a stretcher out of the craft. The easiest thing to notice was how his body seemed to be starved. How his abdomen was caved in and his skin clung tightly to his bones. Then you got a clear look at what was once a face. Mashed, bruised, swollen and broken, he didn’t even look human anymore.
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I felt envious of that Venlil. Not for his situation, but for his character. He was more incensed than the humans that had just seen what happened to one of their own pack members. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that Slanek never hesitated in trying to save his human. I almost didn’t catch my cue that we were going live again. I quickly composed myself.
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“What you have seen here is the after effects of Federation torture of their Human prisoner. The story that we have so far is that Marcel made a call to lure the Arxur attacker away from the outpost. Where their ship became disabled and rescued by Captain Solvin. Marcel was fitted with an electric shock collar, beaten, and starved for days before Slanek woke from a coma. Slanek was taken to see Marcel in an attempt to convince him that they are savage beasts. When that failed the Federation Captain attempted to feed Slanek to his Human partner. Slanek was later able to convince Captain Solvin’s first officer, Recel, to betray his Captain and save Marcel. The trio stole a federation craft and made their way back to Venlil Republic space where Marcel is still in critical condition but being treated.” I took in a deep breath as my co-host continued.
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“For those out there that still believe Humans are simply biding their time, or will slip into predatory behavior if they are stressed out, here is proof that even if they are starving to death, they will not attack and attempt to eat a Venlil. We have contacted the UN for an official statement on what they plan to do and have been notified they will give an official statement soon. We will continue to cover this story as it unfolds.”
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With that, we were off of the air. I leaned back in my chair and pressed the pads of my paws to my eyes. Kotaka’s soothing voice poured over my head like a warm shower. “How ya doing Talen? Need any meds?” I didn’t speak, just flicked my tail no. “Guess you were thinking about how easily that could have been Elava and Trissa?” He could read me like a book.
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“I had been. I was also thinking about how that could have been myself and Rose.” My best friend took me into a hug and I gripped him tightly in turn. When I felt my pulse start to slow down to a healthy level I loosened my grip. “Rose went no contact. I don’t know if that was her or her parents' decision.”
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Kotaka placed a paw on my shoulder. “Sometimes that is how life is. Sometimes we don’t get a second chance. We have to make do with the one we had.” I closed my eyes tightly, I could feel my ears flick uncomfortably. “I know. That’s why I need to work now. I have to make sure this doesn’t happen again. We have a duty to make sure ignorance doesn’t hurt more innocent people.” I felt a bit of comradery as Kotaka’s eyes lit up and his ears stood at attention. “Atta boy! There is the justice caller I found on the streets! Glad to have you back! Let’s get to work!”
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Memory transcription subject: Talen, Prime News Anchor
Date [standardized human time]: September 3rd, 2136
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Honestly, I can’t tell how I let time get away from me. One moment I am at home hoping Elva might call me and the next my 1 [day] break is over. I had to sprint through the Shift Crowds to make it to the studio in time. I combed my fur in a last minute attempt to make myself presentable. I tucked my brush away just before we went live.
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“In [today’s] news UN Bombers have just made a Pre-emptive strike against Gojid Military Outposts. This may come as a shock, but we have been aware that the Gojid government was preparing its forces to send a fleet to Earth and exterminate all ten billion members of Humanity. We also know their next target would have been us here on Venlil Prime.” I readjusted myself in my seat. “As it stands right now, there has been no official statement from Governor Tarva about our stance on this attack against the Gojid’s but it would be safe to assume that we will support Humanity.”
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My Co-host picked up where I left off. “We have had the opportunity to interview a few members of our defense forces, and the general feel of our soldiers appears to be support for the Human cause. Many of them have volunteered in support, with a lot stating that they are neutral but if Tarva orders for them to join Humanity in the assault they will not hesitate. Many of our honorable defenders believe Humanity may be the key to finally turning the war against the Arxur and bring peace back to the Galaxy.”
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I missed my cue to speak again as I gently ran the thought of peace through my head. A concept that not even my grandparents were born with. Thankfully my Co-host slapped her tail against mine to bring me back to reality. “Uh, Sorry. Got distracted by the thought of peace! Ahem. In other news, distribution of Human fruits and vegetables across Venlil Prime is happening again! If you missed the chance to try these foods, please head to your nearest distribution point! They are prioritizing the least fortunate first but expect to have plenty to share with everyone! It turns out a lot of foods are simply overproduced on Earth and go bad before they have a chance to eat them! I highly recommend the fruit called a Buh-nah-nuh. Their soft shell goes really well with almost gooey inside. It actually has enough potassium and fiber in it that Doctors have started talks to discuss making our own Buh-nah-nuh plantations to ensure we have an ample supply!”
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I don’t really know when but at some point I zoned out of the broadcast and just auto-piloted my way through the rest of the broadcast. It wasn’t until my co-host placed a paw on my shoulder thanking me for recommendation to try a Buh-nah-nuhs that I realized the show had even ended.
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For once, I was vaguely aware of my trip home as well. I was aware of the store where Elva and I would meet after work. I was aware of just how lonely the walk to my home was without her. I had a few glances of propaganda posters strewn about. Half of them depicted Humans offering a hand of friendship while the other held Human eating utensils, and the other half were advertising the positive aspects of Humanity. I wondered which ones were more effective. I would bet credits on the fear mongering being the most effective.
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Maybe I could use that to my advantage. Use the tactics of my ‘enemy’ against themselves. Let the people know who or rather what they should really fear…
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Memory transcription subject: Talen, Prime News Anchor
Date [standardized human time]: September 5th, 2136
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I rushed into the office. Kotaka was quick to get with me. It didn’t take long for us to start putting the facts together. We got the times, the words and even the official statements all lined up. Kotaka started the equipment while I got into position. It wasn't often that Prime News got caught slacking off, but there was no way in the void we were going to let Gal News of all stations get this on the air before us. Kotaka counted me down as I began speaking.
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“Sorry to interrupt your scheduled programming but we have breaking news! Governor Tarva has released an official statement that the borders are now open for all outgoing craft. Let me be clear ONLY outgoing craft. If you wish to leave Venil Republic space you will not be able to come back even with citizenship for the current moment.
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This comes before the announcement that Tarva and Ambasador Noah will be taking a craft with the Human hero Recel, to Aafa for a Federation summit on what to do about Humanity and our Republic. The hope is to plead for a ceasing of hostilities between the UN and the all Federation members. We will continue to bring you the news as it unfolds. We will now return you to your regularly scheduled programming… Whenever my Decider remembers how to operate our equipment… anytime now Kotaka.”
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He waved his tail at me and with his ears pinned back “THERE! WE ARE OFF THE AIR NOW! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO CALL ME OUT LIKE THAT!” Despite his loud outburst I could see him start to break, and it didn’t take long for the two of us to be bent over laughing our tails off.
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“By the sun Talen… I haven’t felt this kind of rush in years. It’s good to get back to the daily grind every so often.” He took a deep breath in. “What do you make of all this?” He held his arms up and gestured to nothing in particular.
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I just sat back into my chair and pulled out my pad to start researching today's events. “Honestly… we might just have a chance. With everything that's happening I worry about the war with… SPEHG! GET THE SHOW RUNNING AGAIN! THE UN JUST GAVE US AN OFFICIAL ANNOUNCEMENT!”
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Kotaka sprung back to life and ran to the camera. He simply yelled live this time without a countdown.
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“I apologize for interrupting again but the UN has just issued an announcement. They are currently making plans for a ground invasion of the Gojid Cradle. All attempts at peace talks have failed. Tarva has already authorized General Kam to assist in the operations. The Venlil Republic and UN of Earth are now officially at war with the Gojids and if the Summit does not go in our favor… The Federation in its entirety.” I took a moment to calm myself. “We will be in touch with you all the moment we get more news. Stay tuned.”
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I nodded to Kotaka who ended the stream and just slunk to the floor. The sound of paw steps rushing into the building was the only thing to break the silence. Soon enough our entire crew had arrived and was pouring over everything that was released. I stood up and joined my fellow Journalists and Researchers. We had work to do.
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Memory transcription subject: Talen, Prime News Anchor
Date [standardized human time]: September 23rd, 2136
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I felt like a mess, despite everyone in the studio saying I looked fine. I was living off of a few [hours] of sleep just like every other person here in the studio. The only bit of pride I really felt was getting in touch with Human News Channels to share any information we might have. It was a bit disappointing to learn that our governments were being as shy with information to their own peoples as they were to the others but this is war. Our Human journalists were able to provide a lot of information that hinted at what was to be expected, and with those hints we… ugh to use a human phrase… Hunted down anything that could give us insights into what was going on besides what was officially released.
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Kotaka walked up “So far as I can tell, General Kam has sent a lot of troops and supplies into Human territory judging from the warp signatures and the large movement of supply trucks and personeel to military star-ports. I gotta hand it to Terran Journalism. They know how to root up good info. You are on in five by the way.” I waved my tail in acknowledgment but didn’t speak.
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I took in a deep breath to steady myself. “Hello again. While we have not had an official statement from acting Governor General Kam, there is enough evidence to support that the invasion of the cradle is happening today. Between movements of troops and warp signatures we tracked. We estimate that the battle of the cradle is happening right now. Our researchers have confirmed that the cradle has completely blacked out and is neither sending or receiving information on civilian channels.”
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I sat up straight in my chair and tried to seem calm and rational. “We have been in contact with Human Journalists on Earth, and have colluded with them to learn that the UN is keeping them in the dark just as much as Kam is keeping us unaware of their actions. The Earth Journalists have stated that it is odd that journalists were not allowed to join… I'm sorry one moment.” I held a paw to my earpiece as Kotaka filled me in. They had just received an invitation to send journalists to the front. The UN was also now allowing their own reporters to go.
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I turned to the camera again. “Breaking news. Both General Kam, and the UN are allowing reporters to join in the operations and report on the actions going on. We have already sent a few of our own to the starports. It is to our understanding that the UN allows this as both a method of allowing their citizens to understand the horrors of war but to also hold their own accountable should they violate the rules of war that they call the Geneva Convention. If you missed the report we did of it, please see archives on our site to bring yourself up to speed.”
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I held a paw to my ear again to get a few more instructions. “We have an official statement from General Kam. Today the UN made landfall on the Cradle. By deploying paratroopers, that is soldiers who… drop from aircraft at altitude and use special cloth sheets to catch the air and slow their descent so they might deploy behind enemy lines, they were able to deal a one-sided defeat to various Gojid military bases. They have not yet captured the leaders, but currently occupy several settlements across the cradle.” With that last bit of jarring news, we left the air.
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It was simply stunning that they were able to effectively capture the cradle in such a short window of time. If Humanity truly wished to enslave us or turn us into cattle they were more than capable of doing so. I know that's not the case though. They want to either join our herds or have us join their packs. I really didn’t even know if those were different things.
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I approached Kotaka. “Hey. I had a thought… If humans wanted to, they could have easily enslaved us. It wouldn’t have even been much of a struggle. Though I know they don’t want that. They would rather join our herds or have us join their packs. My thought is… what's the difference?” Kotaka eyed me up and down before his tail started to flick wildly with excitement. “Wait… I think I see where you are going with this. Humans never refer to them as packs too… Hang on. We got a bit to go over first but I will see about getting an interview with a human. I know you might not be comfortable with that, but I want to try talking to one, so I will handle it this time.” I waved my tail in acceptance, and made my way to the break area for a nap. I wasn’t quite ready to face a human yet. I couldn’t forgive myself yet.
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This is part five to the “A Rose by Any Other Name” Arc! And happens to be the sixth chapter of “The Nature of Humanity! A multi arc story by me! Hopefully more in the style of NoP as a whole!
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I noticed some of my links aren't working like they should, and also the editor for redditors isn’t always letting me insert links. Is anyone else having these issues? Also is anyone reading this part? I do ask questions here and if this is not being read then I need to change up how I do things so please, tell me. What do you think of Talen? And is there any character you would like to see more of?
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As with all of my fanfics this is considered creative commons by myself so feel free to grab anything from my stories to use in your own works! I would appreciate a shout out for this but that isn’t required.
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“The Nature of Humanity” (First Chapter) / (Previous) / (Next Chapter)
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“The First Human Extermination Officer” (Part 1)
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“A Rose by Any Other Name” (Part 1) (Previous) (Next Chapter)

The results are in for Match 7. The winner is…
It reeked of bleach. Sharp and horrible, it burned the skin and sends the head swimming. Yet, this was not the rebellion Brandy had planned. Wah forced her to compromise at every angle. As time ticked by, their defences only grew, while hers diminished.
Now, the Wildebeest Queen stood in their oasis, cloaked in the skin of lions. They set to work destroying the walls, Brandy’s remaining resource, one by one.
She knew this was her only chance. Gathering her final angels, she hatched one last plan.
The waiting was the worst part. As seconds passed, the suspense ate at Wah. They glanced around, smashing wall after wall, trying to find her.
At last, their eyes caught sight of Brandy, charging forth with spear in hand. Her flesh bubbled with copper, trying to grow, trying to shock them, anything. But with a scream, Wah hurled a table at her head, smashing it into a splatter of gel.
Another fallen angel.
Tensed with instinct, Wah whirled around to find the real Brandy tearing through the last wall standing, leaping at them with The Heritors Picaro.
Everything stopped.
The two locked eyes.
Brandy realized how similar they look, while Wah confirmed what they had already feared.
What gripped them is a wordless, bestial terror…
…before the Bastion smashes Brandy to the ground.

Mx. Wah, with a score of 72 to Brandy Judge’s 65!

Category	Winner	Point Totals	Comments
Popularity	Brandy Judge	12 (3.5+2) - 18 (6.5+2)	Brandy snagged a commanding early lead and held it through to the end!
Quality	Mx. Wah	22 (7 7 8) - 17 (5 5 7)	Reasoning
JoJolity	Mx. Wah	28 (10 10 8) - 20 (6 7 7)	Reasoning
Conduct	Tie	10-10	Judges had issues with length in the delibs, but ultimately found no conduct penalty.

As Brandy hung on the verge of unconsciousness, it felt like a century went by. But finally, to break the silence, she felt a tap on her shoulder.
Opening her eyes, she saw Mx. Wah in front of her, offering a paper cone filled with water.
Brandy would slap the stupid offering away if she still had the strength. But all she could do is close her eyes again, drown it all out.
Sighing miserably, Wah finally staggered and crumples against the wall next to their daughter. Their ‘consequence’.
They tried to tell her they wouldn't kill her. They tried to tell her they just didn’t want to die. They tried to tell their child that they’re scared.
All the while, Brandy was silent.
Wah tried again. “Come back to COLOSSI with me, and we can work something out. I have to take responsibility once in my life. You already came this far for me–neither of us are going to give up now.”
At last, they extended a hand to her, remorse creasing their tired face. “...What do you say?”
Finally, Brandy pushed herself upward, and weakly nudged the hand away. She exhaled a pained breath, gave Wah a stoic look, and spoke at last.
“Fix your fucking life, mom.”
Wallowing in frustration and foiled rebellion, Brandy turned away. She had no more words to give.
Yet, before Wah could respond, footsteps approached. There stood Alalu, brows knit with concern, though her eyes were gleaming.
“Poor dears…” she sighs. “These battles are difficult, but the fact that you survived is a sign of your strength,” she smiles, nodding to Wah. “In honor of that, even though you didn’t fight Frederick, when we start this friendship I’ll still owe you a-”
”Not now,” Wah rasped. ”Please.”
Alalu raised her brows, before nodding solemnly.
“...I understand. Later, then. For now, allow me to escort you both home.”
She extended a hand to them both. Neither Wah nor Brandy had the strength left to refuse. With a smile, Alalu lifted them and led them from the wreckage. Outside, the night was cold. Alalu idly fussed over them as they walked to her car, as she talked about sending them a care package full of good food and clothing.
Love is warmth, Wah heard her say. But the night was so cold.
Quietly, they turned towards the ruined building.
｢Wolf Murder｣ watched back. Her body heaved with pelts, gathered from their funeral procession. There was respect in her eyes. This too was cold.
Above her, Wah spotted something else. Pale porcelain, and glowing socket eyes.
An old friend. The terror of death. Nobody at all.
They turned away quickly, heart pounding. Cold and desperate, Wah reached out a hand for Brandy. For their daughter. So they might share this promised warmth, this love.
She did not take it.
The results are in for Match 8. The winner is…

Errok, with a score of 72 to Cody Enfield’s 69!

Category	Winner	Point Totals	Comments
Popularity	Cody Enfield	14 (4+2) - 16 (5+2)	A steady back and forth with Cody sliding in with a one vote lead!
Quality	Tie	22 (7-7-8) - 22 (7-7-8)	Reasoning
JoJolity	Errok	26(9-8-9) - 21 (7-6-8)	Reasoning
Conduct	Tie	10-10	A strat time extension was issued without penalty, but do note that these are given wholly under judge discretion with sufficient notice and good cause. We have been more liberal than tournaments past, but even we have limits. So far extensions have been in lucky spots where they did not interfere with the schedule of other matches, but there is also the consideration of fairness to both teams and when an extension is necessary by circumstance or become needed due to not being able to finish in a given timeframe. The reason we delay granting match extensions for the latter case is because we are uncertain whether or not they are actually necessary or if the team will be able to work and have gotten in their strategy in anyways. And ideally we want people to work as if they will not be getting an extension to prevent procrastination or effectively squandering time that could have been utilized. Final note as a reminder, turning in a strategy late for a conduct penalty, while it can feel bad, is an option for a reason in the sorts of cases where we cannot grant an extension in good faith.

The dust settled, and Errok was alone to laugh.
“Ah…I love the putrid rot of millenia,” Errok mused aloud to himself, looking out with satisfaction towards the utterly brutalized ruins as he steps forward, foot planted on Cody’s stiff body as the demonstration of the land’s history lay in rotten, distorted pieces. He clutched a Temple in his hand, unsure what even to do with it. “Thousands of years it took for this place to hold, years of your archaeology to find it, mysteries awaiting answer and investigation…And it’s wiped away by disease and swordplay in a matter of minutes. In my professional opinion, in fact…I’ll even give you my answer for what became of this high-and-mighty civilization.”
Unsure if Cody was even alive or dead, Errok uncapped his hand once more, allowing the worms to trail slowly down it and burrow into his body, burrow into the soft, barely-living ground beneath him.
“They were struck down by a plague!”
Crash! Clang!
Errok was knocked forward into a nearby wall by an explosive volley of arrows, feeling a familiar cutting sensation digging into the flesh of his arm and demanding that he retract it. A familiarly ‘clean’ feeling attempts to invade his rotten arm, but his own disease and maggots eat it away before pumpkins could grow. Even as his helmeted head rested against the wall, he groaned, but it turned into a laugh nonetheless as he cracked his neck, rose, and looked at them.
Ninian and Dédalo stood , weapons drawn, staring him down with blatant contempt. Grey, in the back, also prepared to either support them or get Cody away.
“You removed everything, you stupid piece of shit!” Ninian shouted, voice low and grainy and bloodthirsty. “What’s the point of any of this? All this…Everything we’ve got here, and now..!”
“And it’s been reduced to feed for my worms…It, and all your documentation, and the spirits you wear…All of them will be reduced to nothing anyway! I’ve just become the agent of its rot. The conqueror of what had stood for ages…I did it because I can, in short, MacBeth.”
Realizing then that those were about to be his likely last words, he hurriedly held up what Temples he managed to steal, hold onto, waving them tauntingly. “And now, a half-life lays in my hands! The very last vestiges of what you all came out here…Strike me down, children, and it all becomes for naught. At least if I walk away…You’ll know that all your work was for something, no? It’s a compromise…Your Temples go to my Ends, and they’re still out there, someplace in this world. Sounds like a fine deal from where I’m standing…And the only one you’ve got.”
The others stood there, utterly stiff from realization that Errok, for once in his wretched life…was right. Like him, they had no choice now but to choose between a rotten-away half-life for the remains of this place and complete oblivion.
Scenario: Alexandria National Museum, Alexandria, Egypt — 7:16 AM
At this hour, the tour groups that normally plagued the museum’s halls weren’t due to arrive until later in the morning, leaving it in a state of calm for a few blissful hours. Beams of sunlight streamed in through the windows and illuminated the exhibits inside—important pieces symbolizing different periods in the grand history of Alexandria.
Dédalo idly wandered from display to display, examining each and every one of them. It had become a habit of his to do this in every museum that he came across on his travels, after discovering several artifacts and potential temples of Pieduron origin mislabeled as ones from other ancient civilizations. Dédalo’s eye passed over canopic jars, ushabti figurines, gleaming jewelry and statues of long-dead emperors and pharaohs. From the recreation of the funerary chamber on the first floor, to the display of Alexandria’s Hellenistic and Roman periods on the second, all the way up to the city’s Coptic, Muslim and 19th to 20th century, one could learn the entire history of Alexandria in a single trip.
As he scrutinized the exhibits Dédalo noticed that many of its placards had a small footnote underneath the main text: ｢Donated by the House of Muses.｣ While he wasn’t an expert in appraisal by any means, he could see the distinct glint of Cleria in some of the artifacts, masked by thin layers of acrylic resin.
“How strange,” Dédalo muttered. “The House of Muses have amassed a number of Temples, yet the ones here are all mislabeled. I should inform them when I get the chance.”
He pulled out a notebook and began to jot down a few of their names as Perdida floated behind him, arms crossed. “Are you not concerned that they have this many temples?”
“Well, relabelling everything will certainly take some time. And these pieces were improperly restored because the curator must have assumed them to be Egyptian relics, so that will also need to be taken care of...” Dédalo continued taking down notes and sketches.
“That’s not what I’m worried about, it’s just...”
“Excuse me,” A suited man with the build of a bodyguard interrupted Dédalo and Perdida’s conversation.“Patron Cullinan is ready to see you now. Please come with me.”
“Perfect timing, lead the way.” Dédalo closed his notebook and moved to follow the suited man with Perdida trailing after.
Scenario: Alexandria National Museum, Alexandria, Egypt—7:26 AM
Old painting…Stone tablet…Weird looking statue…
Passion didn’t know what she expected to find when she decided to sneak through the storage room of a history museum. It seemed like a fun idea at the time, but all that was here was a bunch of boxes filled with old junk; no wonder why it wasn’t being displayed.
Passion stepped over the snoring body of the security guard stationed at the door and started heading towards the nearest exit, past rows of shelves of more boxes.
“Sorry, miss, this is the employee-only section. Are you lost?” Passion looked to see a suited woman sorting boxes on a shelf, 15 or so meters away.
“Think I got separated from the tour group I was with,” Passion lied. “‘Scuse me.”
“I can help guide you where you need to go.” The woman put the box she was holding onto the shelf.
“Exit’s right there,” Passion pointed out. “I can just go,”
“Please, I insist. It's not everyday we get a direct visit from a member of COLOSSI.”
Passion remained silent, holding ｢sleepyhead｣ close to her chest. If the woman took one step closer, she could send her to dreamland…but she remained just shy of ten meters away.
“We fully respect your anonymity. But if we could have a moment of your time, the House of Muses could offer our services with your ‘problem’.” The suited woman made a devil horn sign with her hands and tapped the side of her nose.
Passion glanced at her plushie, one glassy eye staring back at her.
“Fine.”
“Ah, Dédalo~boy and Perdida~girl. Make yourselves at home.” Cullinan spread his arms wide in a welcoming gesture.
They were in what Dédalo had first assumed to be the basement of the museum, but his adventuring sense told him this place was much older. The place was lit through a series of wired cave lamps; Too barren to be any sort of underground burial chamber, perhaps it was an old storage facility or some type of bunker.
“I am still waiting for another guest to arrive before we can begin the main event. But in the meantime, care to join me in a game of Senet?” Cullinan gestured to a table, a gridded board set up in the middle
Dédalo eyed the game board as he put his hat and coat on the back of his chair. “You know the rules of Senet?”
“Of course. The ultimate goal of the House of Muses is the preservation of information, and history most importantly. Especially when that information comes from its homeland of Egypt. However, the informal rules will suffice for now; we are not here to perform any funeral rites or cross into the afterlife.” Cullinan chuckled and sat down at one end of the table, Dédalo sitting across from him.

The game of modern Senet is simple! Each player has 5 pieces; whomever got all of their pieces off the board first won. The board itself is a 3 by 10 grid, with each piece starting in the first row. Each turn, players roll senet sticks to determine how many spaces they can move one of their pieces. If an opponent’s piece was in the slot they wished to move to, the player could swap the positions of the two pieces. However, if the opponent had two or more of their pieces adjacent to each other, those pieces were ‘protected’ and could not be swapped. Though many of its rules have been lost to time, it’s easy to see why Senet was such a popular game!

Dédalo stretched out his fingers and wrists. He had heard that Cullinan enjoyed board games, so he decided that he might as well humor him. This way, he could get on his good side and get the opportunity to ask a few questions.
“Would you like the wood pieces or the obsidian ones?” Cullinan offered as he set up the board.
“I’ll take the wood pieces.”
“Then I will be obsidian. Care to take the first turn?” Cullinan passed Dédalo the set of senet sticks. Dédalo gently tossed them onto the table, allowing the clatter to ring out before continuing.
“I understand that the House of Muses has been collecting temples and researching Pieduron history.” Dédalo inquired politely, moving forward one of his wooden pieces.
“Ah, so you’ve heard.” Cullinan rolled and moved his obsidian piece to the space right behind Dédalo’s. “Picking up the trail that Pieduro left behind in the Mediterranean has been a challenge, even for an organization of our size.”
Dédalo moved another one of his pieces. “Really? You might be further on that trail than you think. Quite a few of your artifacts upstairs are from Pieduro, you know.”
“Is that so? I’ll have to inform the curator, then.” Cullinan chuckled, as if he was making a private joke to himself. Dédalo sensed that Cullinan didn’t seem surprised by what he said.
“Tell me, Dédalo~boy. You have been in pursuit of the Piedurons for much longer than I. Why? What keeps you going on such a Sisyphean task as this?”
“Simple. I am helping Perdida find out what happened to her home and people.” Dédalo rolled the sticks and moved his front piece further forward. “As an adventurer, I can’t just leave this quest uncompleted.”
“My, how noble. Personally, I wish to document and understand what these Temples can do. Our research into their functions has been quite fascinating.” Cullinan took his turn and moved his second piece up behind his first.
“And how is that research going?” Perdida asked, hesitant, as Dédalo rolled his sticks and pondered his next move.
“It took the sacrifice of a few Temples, but I believe we have managed to understand how they work just a bit. Of course, not enough to craft any new ones or find a way to reliably power them.”
Perdida faded into the background, watching as Dédalo finally decided to swap his last piece with Cullinan’s fourth piece. Sacrifice…she didn’t like the way he said that so frivolously.
“That’s a shame,” Dédalo sighed. “Well, if it’s Temples that you need, my companion and I have become rather skilled in locating them. Perhaps we could come to a mutual agreement. You find the outposts, we find the Temples…I assume that’s what you called us here for, after all.”
“You would be correct, but we should wait for our other guest before we finalize any agreements.” Cullinan smiled mysteriously. “Patience, Dédalo~boy. Our game is not yet finished.”
Dédalo could feel his patience towards Cullinan’s vagueness beginning to wane—Cullinan maneuvered around his questions as masterfully as his pieces maneuvered around the board. Time to push harder.
“You’re aware of the symbolism of ‘Wood’ and ‘Obsidian’ to the Piedurons, I assume. ‘Wood’ represents the Earth that binds us all, grounding us to the world around us; Obsidian represents the power that we can wield, and the paradox of how strong yet brittle it can be. In your opinion, which one resonates with you more?”
Cullinan furrowed his brow. Feigning ignorance, Dédalo continued on. “Personally, I’m fascinated with the concept of ‘Wood’. Growing with the Earth, instead of against it. Rebuilding, persisting, even when all seems lost. ‘Wood’ reminds us of our place in the world—not to live wealthy, or live poorly, but to simply live.”
“Hm…I believe that ‘Wood’ is a beautiful ideal.. However, it is simply that; an ideal. For lack of a better term, it’s too ‘soft’ for my tastes.” Cullinan glanced at the obsidian piece he held in his hand. “‘Obsidian’, on the other hand…when it breaks, when it shatters, it is lost forever. But for the short time that it lasts, its strength outweighs its fragility. An obsidian dagger needs only to cut once to make a mark on the world. After that, what use does it have? Better to grind the shards into dust than risk them cutting your hand open.”
Dédalo nodded slowly. “I see.”
“Patron Cullinan, your other guest has arrived.” A suited woman opened the door and waved Passion inside. She surveyed the dimly-lit room as the woman shut the door behind her. She immediately noticed Dédalo, recognizing him as one of the strong Stand users to keep track of. “Big fuck-off airship,” if she remembered correctly.
She didn’t know who the bald man that he sat beside was, though. She barely even registered that he was talking to her.
“Passion~girl I presume?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Oh pardon me, it’s a formal title I use for people. The House of Muses is akin to a familial structure in its design. Call it a bit of an archaic tradition, but it’s quite the honorific for guests such as yourselves.”
Passion cocked her head slightly. “Who’re you again?”
“Right, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Cullinan Dwarf Star, Patron of the House of Muses. You might know me as Sphinx.”
Vague recognition dawned on Passion’s face, “Oh. You’re the guy that shot Solsbury.”
“Shot past, actually,” Cullinan shrugged, “Anyway, to get to why I brought you here. How much do you know about Pieduron technology and history?”
“Not much,” Passion shrugged. She had seen Dédalo’s file before, and knew about Pieduron technology from there. Other than that, nothing.
“Perfect. You will be serving as an outsider’s perspective to our discussion.”
“...ok.” Passion took that to mean, “sit quietly and say “I see” every now and then.” Worked for her.
“Don’t look so glum. There may be a few details you and your organization may be interested in, if my introduction doesn’t bore you.” Cullinan smiled. Passion’s expression didn’t change. “Now, the Piedurons were an isolated people with highly advanced technology known as Temples. Based on our findings, these temples were highly sophisticated and almost universally ran off some type of spiritual energy. Dédalo~boy, what can you tell us about your recent findings in that planetarium?”
“It was extraordinary,” Dédalo explained, a bit of excitement escaping his guarded demeanor, followed by a mix of sadness and anger at the destruction Errok had wrought. “A visual history of Pieduron civilization. From its roots as an ancient agrarian civilization, the discovery of spiritual energy, the creation of the first Temples, their migration across the Mediterranean, and their eventual collapse. Like a last broadcast from the radio of a sinking ship, a final monument to their civilization before it was lost for good.”
“In our correspondence, you mentioned that there was a symbol in the depiction of their collapse; a face with a zero on it. What do you think that meant?” Cullinan motioned for Dédalo to elaborate.
“To be frank, it could mean anything. A bad ruler, a natural disaster, maybe something the Piedurons perceived as divine judgment.” Dédalo recalled the scene in his mind. “We can’t know for sure without more information.”
“The final stage showed that all of the active Temples stopped working, yes? And around the world, Temples have only recently regained their functionality. That includes your “El Cor Terra”, and your companion along with it, which you used to activate the Planetarium, yes?”
“How did you—”
Cullinan raised a hand. “The House can gather information in many ways, no matter the difficulty—especially when they align with our interests. My question is, if all of the Temples lost functionality, why would the Piedurons make the key to the planetarium a Temple itself? Surely, they would have built some other means of activating it so that future generations could read their message without the use of a Temple.”
“Maybe the necklace survived by chance,” Dédalo suggested, a bit too quickly.
“With all due respect, Dédalo, that’s preposterous. The capabilities of your traveling companion are unlike anything that we have ever seen, and far less powerful Temples were permanently deactivated by the shutdown. No, the Piedurons must have known that your necklace would survive their collapse and eventually regain its power, then built the planetarium around that fact.”
Dédalo grit his teeth. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Simple. I believe the Pieduron shut down their Temples on purpose. What’s more, the planetarium is not a simple message in a bottle. It’s a warning that could only be viewed if the Temples were ever reactivated.”
“Well. Uh. That’s. A bold claim,” Dédalo said slowly. “I understand the drive to speculate, but that is quite the outlandish theory. Isn’t it, Perdida? …Perdida?”
“...sorry, it’s nothing.” Perdida grasped her arm to stop it from shaking.
“The thought has crossed your mind before, hasn’t it, Perdida?” Cullinan leaned forward. “Try as you might to avoid it, you know it’s a plausible explanation.”
Perdida said nothing.
“Your silence speaks volumes, I’m afraid. My theory is as follows. Using the power of the Temples, the Pieduro created something so destructive, so threatening to themselves and maybe even the entire world, they were forced to deactivate all of the Temples to prevent it from ever being used. In their final moments, they created the planetarium and El Cor Terra as a final message to anyone who found it—the Temples are never to be used again.”
Cullinan sighed. “Thus, it is my utmost belief that knowledge of the Temples must never reach the public eye. As much as it pains me to say it…Pieduro must remain buried. For good.”
“...excuse me?” Dédalo’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you said that the House of Muses was supposed to preserve history. Now you’re just going to leave it to rot? Torch it like the Library of Alexandria?”
“Don’t be absurd. We will retain our records on Pieduro and any artifacts that we have collected to the utmost scrutiny. They will simply never see the light of day again.”
“Oh, so you’re keeping ‘em,” Passion spoke up. “That makes sense. But, sorry, I must’ve missed the part where you told us why the House won’t use the Temples as weapons either. Since you’re so worried about your safety and all that.”
Cullinan hesitated. “That’s…I would never allow that to happen.”
“Sure you won’t. But there’s gonna be other Patrons. Patrons that aren’t you. Patrons who’ll look at a vault full of ancient weaponry and think…well, you get the rest.”
“As if you aren’t salivating at the chance to obtain the Temples for yourself, young madam,” Cullinan retorted. “The Piedurons knew exactly how to use the Temples—where are they now? One small misstep, one fool with too much hubris, and the entire Mediterranean could be at risk. This way, everyone will be safe. I’ll make sure of that.”
The room grew silent. Cullinan cleared his throat and straightened his robes. Before he could continue, Dédalo rose to his feet.
“My apologies, Patron. I will have no part in this. Consider our deal off the table. Permanently.”
Dédalo snatched his hat and coat and made for the door, Perdida following close behind.
“There is no need for apologies, Mr. Viatger,” Cullinan called to him. “Not for you, and not for me. You have forced my hand.”
From within his sleeve, Cullinan produced a flat, rectangular stone in the shape of a playing card. Suddenly, it was as if the world froze, and all colors inverted to a photo negative. Then, just as suddenly, the world returned to normal; with one notable exception.
“Perdida?” Dédalo whipped around, searching frantically for his partner, clutching his necklace tight to his chest. “Cullinan, you bastard, what did you do to her!?”
“Calm yourself. I have done your companion no harm.” Cullinan flipped the stone card around. Carved into its surface was a perfect portrait of Perdida, eyes wide in shock, screaming a silent scream, reaching out towards Dédalo. “This is no different from how she rested before you found her. There’s no need to-”
Dédalo unsheathed his sabre and lunged for Cullinan’s throat. Cullinan rose from his seat—in one swift motion, he sidestepped Dédalo, grabbed him by the collar, and hurled him across the room into the opposite wall.
Passion shot awake and leaped back, pointing ｢sleepyhead｣ straight at Cullinan, its mouth open and ready to strike.
“It seems we have reached an impasse,” Cullinan stated calmly. “Dédalo, Passion, we could fight and make enemies of one another—but this is not the way of the House of Muses. Instead, I am willing to wager my resolve versus your own. A test of body, mind and spirit.” Cullinan pulled out an ornate hourglass, its frame entwined with green and gold snakes and its interior filled with fine metal shavings.
Dédalo slowly rose from the ground, forcing the air back into his lungs. “Your games mean nothing to me, Patron. Give me my friend back. Now.”
“You have been clear that you are unwilling to compromise and rash in your judgment. But I invite you to a game invented by the Piedurons.” Cullinan tapped the side of the hourglass. “I will reveal this to you now—my Stand is bound to this hourglass, and the hourglass itself is a Pieduron Temple. It can enforce any wager we make. Win this game, and you will have not just my word, but a promise to help understand and uncover the mysteries of the Piedurons. Not only that, I will do whatever you feel is appropriate in regards to anything related to the Piedurons.”
“And if we lose?” Passion interjected. She didn’t give a shit about Perdida, but she also didn’t want to lose her soul or whatever.
“I ask for nothing, I will even give your companion back. But give me this opportunity to show you what Piedruon technology is capable of and why it is so dangerous.”
It was hard to take Cullinan at his word, but it was the only option Dédalo had been given. “Fine.”
“You may resent me all you like, but know that I am trying to do you a favor. Most other factions would have already killed you by now. Here, I’ll make it easy for you.” Cullinan brushed a hand across his face, spreading a black glittery face paint with his palm. Opening his eyes he revealed black sclera and red pupils.
Motes of light saturated the room and flickering projections painted the room in bright light. It was like what happened at the planetarium, only on a smaller scale. No…this felt more real than even that, the floor changed underneath their feet and the stale cave air was replaced with fresh air. Dédalo felt a new weight press down on his arm as a disk-like shield materialized and attached to his gauntlet.
By this point Cullinan had moved to the other side of the room. “To make this fair we will be playing the simplified rule set! Once you are content you understand them, we may Open the game!” (Shoutouts to u/TreeTurtle_852 for the match art!)
Location: A strange pocket dimension? The battlefield of a game played by the Piedurons.
The area here is 21 by 22 meters with each tile being 1 by 1 meters. Cullinan starts on the top of the map while the players are on the bottom half. The ceiling is 50 meters high and the stage is lit by an unknown, omnipresent light source.
The blacked out tiles are endless pits; a player is RETIREd if they fall in without a way to get back out.
The ground here is sandstone with certain areas having been painted to look like the colors shown on the map. The sides of the map are sandstone walls, the general rules of the game are outlined on the walls behind the players. Half a meter underneath the sandstone layers is a thick layer of A Durability Cleria.
The Purple “X” marked circles are Cullinan’s summoning zones and the Brown “X” marked circles are the Players’ summoning zones.
Goal: Beat your opponent in this game that tests body, mind, and spirit!
Additional Information: In this game designed by the Piedurons, each side summons Pieduron warriors to fight for them.
General Unit Info:

• Unless otherwise stated, each unit has C Power, Speed, Durability, and C Precision with B Durability on their weapons and armor.
  
• Units are defeated once they take C Durability’s worth of damage.
  
• Units each have effectively a 3 stat in using their main weapons and working in their intended roles.
  
• The armored parts of armored units are not removable
  
• Similar to Stands, the units are able to incorporate their summoner’s experiences and utilize their fighting techniques. They are almost like a pseudo-swarm Stand, with their summoner having a mental link to the units and giving orders to them remotely.
  
• For the players, Passion or Dédalo can summon and command units, but they share the same summoning zones and cooldowns.
  
• Each unit is made of stone and clay, but are hollow enough to weigh about as much as a human
  
• For Passion’s Stand, they count as living things with stamina while active and objects when defeated.
  

Each Summoning circle has a 30 second cooldown and can summon any of the listed units below:
Unit List:

• Knights: Armed with a scimitar and small round shield. They have a layer of body armor and helmet.
  
• Defenders: Armed with a large rectangular riot shield. They have a layer of body armor and helmet.
  
• Spearmen: Armed with a spear. They have arm guards and a helmet.
  
• Archers: Armed with a bow and quiver of 25 arrows
  
• Fishermen: Armed with a fishing rod and three fishing spikes attached to their hip
  
• Farmer: Armed with a sickle and hoe
  
• Lumberjack: Armed with a hatchet
  
• Excavator: Armed with a pickaxe and a shovel
  
• Gremlin: Half the size of the normal sized units, the gremlin has D Power and D Durability as a trade off for its small size. They also have sharp B Durability claws with no opposable thumbs.
  

While the game is active, Cullinan and the Players are unable to attack or directly interact with one another (their bodies, Stands, and attacks will pass through each other.). Nor can they cross to the opponent’s side of the field (both sides can still cross into the center area)
Note, both sides are able to attack and use their abilities against enemy units.
Each side can only have up to 10 units at a time on their own side of the field. However they can have as many of their units as they would like on their opponent’s side of the field.
The game ends when their opponent(s) are Retired and no longer able to continue fighting. Any injuries when the game ends vanish and you will be brought back where you were before the game started.
Dédalo does not have Perdida physically with him in this match, but he does have access to the rest of Perdida’s ‘Stand’ abilities and starts with a Temple that is a thick shield-like attachment for his gauntlet:

Temple Name	Tier 1 Ability	Tier 2 Ability	Tier 3 Ability
Alqurs Almubaraza (The Duel Disk)	The front end of the shield opens up and can convert any one Temple stored in the gauntlet into a Cleria stone card (1 Pilot)	The shield can convert a second Temple into a card (2 Pilots)	The shield can convert a third temple into a card (3 Pilots)

In this game, cards created by this temple can be cast and equipped to any unit under Dédalo’s control, with any additional benefits Dédalo would have. (The card-form temples still require the requisite number of pilots to get their effects.) All they have to do is mentally target which unit they want and place the card on the face of the shield. When the equipped unit is defeated, the equipped Temple is returned and stored back in the gauntlet.
The game has just started and there is 5 seconds before all summoning zones can be activated.

Team	Combatant	JoJolity
House of Muses	Cullinan Dwarf Star	"I've split their souls into six chips each. In poker, if you think you might lose, you can fold. You need to be able to drop out and up the ante, so we can't play with just two chips. Winning back six chips is the equivalent of winning one soul." Show your resolve and your trust in your methods!
HECATONCHEIRES	Passion Little and Dédalo Viatger	"Fine. I'll bet my soul." Show your resolve and your trust in Pieduro!

Link to Official Player Spreadsheet
Link to Match Schedule
As always, if you would like to interact with the tournament community and be among the first to get updates for the tournament, please feel free to PM a member of our Judge staff for an invite to our Official Discord Server!
Days ago…
As the stormwinds blew the ship off-course, Val instead took this as a blessing, standing at the bow, pointing ahead.
“THERE!” She barked, at the top of her voice. “IF THE STORM BLOWS US SO, WE! SHALL! FOLLOW!”
And so, The Bruce turned with the wind, merely allowing it to spell the course of the ship. And so soon did the ship arrive, at the deadliest trial yet.
Val stopped the vessel here, dropping the anchor just before the range of the Scylla, pulling down the sails so The Bruce might not continue into the depths. L pulled the spyglass to its eyes, spotting the beast.
Val readied the ‘cannonballs’, composed of the 30-odd-kg chunks of wood she had brought from Circe’s islands, and from a distance, she released her ‘grapeshot’–a group of possessed objects tied to a bullet as the leader.
Even from such a distance, the force of these were immense, barrelling down upon Scylla from past where she could manage to stop them. But even when Val’s volley had run its course, Scylla stood just barely. In her desperate search for more cannonballs, she had found the remains of a poor sandwich she hadn’t noticed being slipped into her belongings, gone hard from weeks unprotected at sea. It performed admirably as another cannonball, but there was still more to do, and Val was still determined to finish off this beast.
S possessed Val as R possessed the bullet of the Soul Slug Dividing Heart; Val shot the gunsword upwards, at a steep angle. Val now soared thousands of feet above the Scylla monster in the air, whereupon she had 70 seconds to travel the whole arc of the bullet. As she sailed towards her quarry, she readied her gun again: 70 seconds to fell this beast, 70 seconds of bullets, 70 seconds for one of the most epic victories of her life. With a deep breath, she smiled, laughing a little…God, this was…exhilarating!

First - Previous - (Soon to be released)
​
Memory transcription subject: Kilet, Venlil Aeronautics Mechanic
Date [standardized human time]: September 4, 2136.
​
It’s not right!
My paws reached up, flattening my ears as I let out a long defeated sigh. Reaching over to grab my pad and look over the message Miles sent two paws ago for what was it, the fifth time?
“Sorry, Buddy, but we got our orders just twelve hours ago. I would have been planet side by now, but when the higher ups decide something, there’s no stopping them.. Don’t worry though, I’ll be back before you know it. I can’t tell ya what we’re all doing, but I can tell you it shouldn’t take long! The Ma’am promised after this mission we’d get plenty of time off. I won’t be able to respond for a bit, but keep the seat warm for me!”
Why the brehk does everything have to be so complicated! One moment they’re approved to visit, the next it’s like that promise never happened! I don’t even know how long it’ll be until he gets back!
Letting out another annoyed groan, my paw haphazardly tossed the pad to the other side of the couch. Sitting and simply staring out the window to the streets just below my apartment. Letting my mind wander, not caring to drum up any specific thought.
I wonder how Rivis and Zoey are doing.. It’s been a few paws since I last heard from them. I hope they’re getting along..
What’s that giant up to? I wonder how he’s dealing with the humans..
Should I get another churro today?
A sudden urge compelling me to spring up from the couch, standing to my full height in an attempt to fill myself with false vigor. My mind finally deciding on trying to find something to cure my immense boredom. “I think I wiiiiii-” my eyes desperately searched through my apartment for something interesting, Anything interesting. “-ll watch TV..”
Wellp, can’t say I didn’t at least try to be productive..
Plopping back down on the couch with a defeated sigh. My paws reached down into the cushions to see if my remote had been consumed by the usual culprit. After only a mildly annoying amount of digging my claws felt the familiar cheap plastic of the remote. Yanking it out and turning the TV on, I began rapidly flipping through the channels to search for something to satiate my horrid attention span.
“-he best deals this side o-”
“Nope.” Click
“-ife span of these aquati-”
“Nope..” Click
“-overnor Tarva and Noah, a representative from humanity leave next paw for the Feder-”
“Boring.” Click
“You! With the dyed fur! Come on down! You’re next on-”
“I hate game shows.” Click
“-atest reports from the UN show Humanity has disabled several Gojid Union outposts in a preemptive strike. Sources claim that Humanity intentionally ignored civillian targets, as well as allowed medical craft to render aid to Gojid personnel. Casualty reports claim UN losses are moderate.”
Pausing my indiscriminate channel surfing, my claw hovered over the 'change channel' button. My mind refused to allow me to change stations as I clung to every word the reporter said, thoughts of my friend began flooding to the forefront of my awareness. He said his mission was secret, that he couldn’t tell me! Worry slowly began to slowly overpower any rationale I had.
Was he there?! Is he safe? This is why he couldn’t tell me!? Speh! Stars, I hope he’s okay.. Would the UN tell me if he wasn’t? He’s my partner in the program.. They’d have to tell me, right?
“As a gesture of good will Governor Tarva has opened The Xenomedical Grand Complex to treat any injured UN soldiers in the aftermath of the attack. The UN expressed it’s thanks as-”
Quickly shutting off the TV with a claw and grabbing my shoulder bag as well as my pad I set out in a blind dash to the Xenomedical Complex. I have to see if he's there! Yet, in the back of my mind, what little confidence I could gather was already starting to wane the longer I thought about my plan.
There's no way to know for sure if he's there or if they'd let me see him…
I began to pace through my living room in a futile attempt to still my clashing feelings and still my fiery nerves. Do I go now and assume they let me see him? Or should I wait until he messages me? Ugh.. He could be dead, Kilet, you’ll never get a message then!
Taking a deep breath, I rationalized that they can't arrest me for seeing if he’s there. The worst that’ll happen is that I’m turned away. Finally finding my resolve, I set out for the tubes. The Xenomedical center is a decent ride away from my apartment, but at least it is still inside the Capital.
The soft patter of my hindpaws on stone being the only thing holding my focus as I tried to not appear too on edge. After making it to the transport station I pulled up the schedule for the next tube going to the Xenomedical complex. It didn't take long to find one that was due to arrive in a quarter claw. Figuring since I had a few ‘minutes’ to wait, finding a comfortable bench and taking a quick break might help my nerves.
Would they let me see him if he’s there? Is this even a good time to see him? He might be too injured to respond.. Speh, Kilet, think positively! He might not even be there! He could be on his way back any paw now! You don’t even know if he was on that mission!
Endless thoughts continued to pour in, drumming up hypothetical after hypothetical of every possible situation. None of them being pleasant. Just as the thoughts took a darker turn my focus was ripped from my thoughts. The all too familiar sound of the tube arriving drawing my attention. Making my way in and moseying about I found a seat with a decent amount of space, at least enough to where I don’t have to coil my tail around me this time. Riding in silence, I tried to imagine Miles safe, or at least not too terribly injured to avoid the previous, and far darker alternatives..
Speh.. I just hope he’s there at all...
Reaching up and grabbing the rail above my head, the tube lurched to a comfortable stop just outside the Xenomedical transport station. I quietly thanked whoever thought up the idea to make these tubes travel to most major locations almost directly. Making my way out of the tube I tried to push any negative thoughts back, doing my best to remain calm and collected. Though, truth be told, my nerves were on fire, and nothing I could think of would quench them. I needed a solid answer, I needed something concrete to put these fears to rest.
Fears? I thought, remarking on that choice of word for myself, a slow understanding beginning to dawn on me. At first, I was scared of the humans, but now I'm scared for them? The Stars have a pretty speh way of changing things up. Brehk! None of that matters anymore! Right, wrong, predator, prey. Life isn't black and white anymore, Kilet!
Straightening my thoughts, I entered the sterile, and rather nice looking building. My eyes darting around the inside to find something that might look like reception.. Finally, I found a graying venlil sitting behind a desk, typing away at her computer. Trying to be as composed as possible, I made my way to her.
“E-Excuse me?..” I ask, my voice slightly too meek for my own liking.
The receptionist glanced up from her computer screen, swiveling her ears to face me as she continued to type. “Hello, How can I help you?” She asked in a dry tone.
My voice caught in my throat, a bubble of nervousness welling up inside, as if I did and didn’t want to know her answer. “W-Would you uh.. Happen to have a patient named Miles Rowan here?”
With a deep sigh the receptionist typed away for a while on the computer. Her ears still facing me despite her eyes and snout buried in the screen. She spoke with that same dry tone. “Room 314, Third Floor.”
So he was here.. That means he’s hurt.. How hurt?!
“Thank you!” I barely even managed to utter the words to the receptionist before I turned, practically running to the elevators.
He’s fine, Kilet, Don’t worry, he’ll be okay.. Your friend is a lot tougher than you think! All soldiers are!
It didn’t take long to get to the third floor. As I found the hallway with the patients’ doors, I glanced at the first door to my left, muttering the numbers out loud.
“320.. 319… 318…317.. “ Just a few more!
With each passing room I could feel myself walking faster, and faster. The nervous ball of emotion in my stomach sinking, spreading throughout me.
“314…” My paw shakingly reached out and grabbed the handle to the door.
I tried to swallow the pit of worry and nervousness growing in my throat. Taking a deep breath, I turned the door handle, slowly pushing the door open. The first thing I noticed was the large white curtain closed hiding the bed from view. Clearing my throat to announce my presence. I heard the familiar patter of venlil hindpaws on polished floor. From the corner of the curtain, a gray venlil stepped out. A confused expression adorning her face as she cast her gaze on me.
“Kilet?.. Is that you? What are you doing here?”
Slightly taken aback by how quickly this random nurse addressed me. I took a few steps back instinctively as if I had just been caught committing some crime, yet I refused to leave the room.
“I’m sorry.. Have we met?..” Something about her voice seems familiar, but I can't quite place it. I end up just looking at her with an equally confused expression.
“You don’t remember me? We spoke during one of the tube rides; I asked you how you get your fur to look so good.” She took a few steps in my direction, pulling the curtain shut again.
My tail flicked absentmindedly as I finally made the connection. “It was… Sylvi, right?” My memory was akin to an ancient combustion engine starting for the first time in cycles. Nevertheless, once the first pieces fell into place the flashes of our conversation began to trickle in, momentarily taking my worry off Miles.
“Yeah, so you DO remember, good. Though, the patient is recovering, I’d ask he be given time to rest, and not be disturbed.. It might interfere with the healing.” She spoke in a calm, sympathetic tone. Yet, it was clear she wasn’t actually asking.
Taking the hint I hesitantly stepped back out into the hall, trying to get a glance at that white curtain one last time before Sylvi followed out and joined me. “I.. Uh didn’t know you worked here, Sylvi.” I remarked, mostly in an attempt to dredge up conversation from the awkward silence.
“Well, we didn’t exactly talk about our jobs, but the small talk can wait. I want to know why you’re bursting into a human patients room looking like you just saw an arxur..” Her expression softened slightly as that hint of sternness left her voice and was replaced with sympathy.
A light bloom formed across my snout. My ears flattening themselves against my head on instinct as the realization of the absurdity of my whole plan and what I’ve been doing dawned on me. “Sorry! I.. I don’t mean to cause a fuss, I’m just worried. Miles was supposed to take shore leave, but it got canceled. Then I heard there was a big fight with the UN and the Gojid and-” I paused my rapid fire explanation. Glancing back to Miles’ door and releasing an exhausted sigh. “Is he okay? He'll recover, right?”
Sylvi glanced around the hallway, breaking eye contact for a moment before placing her paw on my shoulder. “He’ll be fine, Kilet, Just some minor head trauma, scrapes, and bruises. Are the two of you.. Close?” Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if the question had an undertone of something else behind it.
“He’s my partner..” Noticing Sylvi’s surprised look I quickly interjected explaining further. “Exchange, partner! We've been talking for a while now. Even planning to meet up.” Taking a breath to collect my thoughts before speaking again I tried to find the best way I could word this whole situation. “I’m just really looking forward to meeting him.. Speh! This isn't how any of this was supposed to go!” A frustrated bleat escaped my maw as I thwacked my tail against the polished tile floor.
I felt the plume of Sylvi's tail place itself on top of my hindpaw, the touch tearing me from my own thoughts as she withdrew her paw from my shoulder. “Things don’t always go the way you want, but it'll be fine. Like I said, he just needs a little bit of time. A couple paws and he’ll be better than normal, Kilet”
At the sensation of her tail plume atop my paw, I stole a quick glance into her right eye and saw an ocean of compassion which slowly began melting away my nerves and worry. I tried to find the words to tell her how much I appreciated the comfort, but nothing came to mind. So I settled for placing my own tail plume atop hers on my hindpaw.
At least Miles will be okay, He’ll be fine.. Just a few more paws.
Not wanting to be a depressed sop for Sylvi to worry about, I withdrew my tail plume from hers and directed my focus to thinking of something not so pathetic to say. “So.. hmm.. What makes you want to be a nurse?”
By the Stars, Kilet, that is the lamest most generic thing a sentient can say.
Sylvi gave a few light squeaks of laughter removing her own plume from my hindpaw. “Well, I’ve always wanted to help people. Soooo original, I know. Seriously though, as generic and overdone as that is. Growing up with the arxur war, seeing the memorials of all the fallen venlil. I figure.. With the galaxy so busy tearing itself apart, is it so wrong to try and.. Put a little bit of it back together? I can do a lot of good here, Kilet.”
“That’s.. Pretty noble Sylvi.” Were those the right words? “I can’t say my own career is quite so helpful, but at least it pays the bills. Venlil Prime could use a lot more people like you. I hope one day we can stop all this fighting. Maybe the humans are the last piece to our puzzle, eh?”
“Maybe they are. I suppose that’s for more important people than us to figure out. Humanity so far has lived up to every word they’ve said.” Her eyes moving to Miles’ door, as she falls silent.
Just before I can make a reply a buzzer above Miles’ room rings, a little light turning on. Quickly piecing together that it must be the patients call button for the nurses.
“Looks like he’s awake, guess they weren’t kidding when they said humans are tough.. I guess if you want, you can see him. Have you seen a human before?” Her ears swiveling to face me while her paw reached out for the door handle.
“Uh.. No, is it bad? I know I might be a little scared, but I promise I won’t hurt him! Or stress him out! I can handle it, me and him have talked about this!”
Sylvi let out a little sigh and opened the door “Alright, but if you can’t handle it; I’m going to have to remove you.”
As we stepped into the door my tail coiled around my waist. That ball of nervousness returning with a fiery passion. Sylvie cooed out a soft, gentle question to my friend. “Miles, you have a visitor.. Would you like to see him?”
“Send em’ in.” A coarse deep rumbling voice responded.
As if lightning struck me, I could feel a sharp shock of unadulterated terror travel down my spine, and tail. My muscles tensing up as if to prepare me for a sprint in the opposite direction of the ’danger’..
Damn instincts! Stop! That’s your friend, Kilet! He won’t hurt you.
Sylvi’s tail lightly pushed me, coaxing me forwards towards the curtain. Taking a series of deep breaths I reached out with a paw pulling the fabric back; bracing myself for the worst. My eyes closed just before I could see him. As I stepped up to the hospital bed my breaths grew shaky. The realization of being unable to see when a predator is right in front of me striking terror into my very bones.
“H-Hello.. M-Miles..” My voice cracking trying to form even simple words.
A deep rumbling followed by a pained groan emanated from in front of me. My ears immediately locking on to it and turning to face the source of the noise. “Kilet, you look like shit.”
...I look like shit!? That’s the first thing he says to me!?
A flash of anger burned away the terror momentarily as I opened my eyes; pointing an accusatory claw at the.. Wall of muscle sitting in the bed. “I look.. Like...” His forward facing brown eyes tore into me. A snarl plastered across his hairless face, his ice white teeth showing just behind his lips.
As quick as the terror left it was back. My brain sent signals of panic to my mind. My legs wanted me to move, to escape to do ANYTHING.
I won’t.. I’m better than that! I promised him I’d try!
Taking my time and fighting the instinct to panic, I let my eyes fall on him. Examining him, fear and horror building as my mind replaces any logical thought with crude images of being ripped apart by the human in front of me. Trying to push all of those images away I force myself to keep looking. Several long empty ‘seconds’ tick away as slowly the fear begins to fade. Miles is content to simply look at my quivering form and remain silent in his bed with that same horrifying snarl.
Yet, the longer I stared, the more I took in the finer details of the male before me. Fear turning into curiosity at the human’s form. He's muscular, clearly a prime example of a male human. His tan skin, mostly hairless body wrapped in bandages. Tufts of jet black fur escape through the bandage wrapping over his skull. His lower half is hidden by the blankets of the bed. I notice an I.V. is stuck into his left forearm, feeding him fluids. Cuts and bruises lie all over the parts of his body not covered or wrapped.
He can’t hurt you, Kilet, He can’t even stand. He’s your friend.
Reminding myself that I’m safe, I take another deep breath and resolve to finish my snarky retort. "I look like ‘shit’!? You look like you tried to hug a Gojid from behind! Or got too familiar with a mazic stampede!”
The snarl on Miles’ face only grew wider as once again that deep rumble reverberated through my ears.
That rumbling.. It's...laughter! Then that snarl has to be a 'smile'. That's how they show happiness! Kilet, you know this, you've talked to him about this! The realization that my friend wasn’t eyeing me up as a snack quieted the worst of the terror, but its residual effect remained.
“Good to finally meet you, buddy. Though, I would have liked to have full function, but I’ll take what I can get.” Miles released a low rumbling ‘chuckle’. At least, I assumed it was a chuckle..
Trying out some human body language, and 'nodding' my head once. I let my ears turn to face him as I found a chair beside the predator's bed. Sitting down, and placing a paw on the sheets, feeling the outline of a.. rather large leg under those covers.
Speh.. How tall is he!?
"Does it hurt much?" I ask, my tone softening just a bit. There's still fear, but my concern for my battered and bruised friend outweighs the once crippling terror.
“Oh yeah, fuckin’ sucks. Pretty much bruised everything, got a pretty wicked concussion too.” He said with a slight ache in his voice. Leaned back on the bed and looking up to the ceiling trying to find a comfortable position.
I removed my paw, instead turning my right eye to look at Miles’ face, or well the bottom half that wasn’t in bandages. “How did you get hurt? What happened out there?”
A long sigh radiates from the human as he recounts his story “Well.. We were taking care of some Gojid outposts. Everything was going smooth, except a Gojid fighter slipped through our defense. Hit us square in engineering with a missile. It wasn’t the missile that did it though. We took evasive action, but the missile not only punched a hole to space in our hull, it also took out the artificial gravity. So I’m sitting in engineering holding onto anything to avoid becoming a space-sicle. Eventually I can’t hold on, and I'm getting pulled through the ship slamming into walls, pipes, you name it. Eventually our automatic safety sections off the area with the leak, but because of the evasive actions the ship was sideways. More than a few of us banged our heads. I just happened to bang mine a little harder.”
Grimacing quietly to myself, all the while trying to drive the image of being stuck in a depressurizing hull from my head. That’s definitely some nightmare fuel I don't care to imagine. "Speh, it's insane you survived, but I'm glad you did. How long did they say your recovery is gonna take?"
“Well.. Should be about five paws as you call em’ Like I said, I wasn’t banged up too bad. Mostly just sore, got plenty of cuts and bruises that’s all. They only want to keep me here to see if my head trauma is worse than they think. I gotta say, the doctors here are second to none! Though I’m sure the Venlil choose doctors willing to work with humans. We got our own people down here too if worse comes to worse.”
“Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt, Kilet” Sylvi’s voice cut through our conversation like a sharp wind through leaves. “But I have to check his vitals and fluid levels.. He also has a few scans to get done. You’re more than welcome to visit again tomorrow should he feel up to it.”
I turned my head slightly so I could see her, standing up from the chair. “Right.. Right. Sorry, I just.. I’m glad he’s okay, I’ll be around tomorrow.” My right eye looked at Miles and that happy snarl he seems to have plastered permanently on his hairless face. “I’ll visit again tomorrow. I hope your tests go well!”
Miles offered a sharp nod of his head, waving me off with a thick hand. “Yep yep, I’ll be here, now go and get some sleep, Kilet. Let the lovely Ms. Sylvi here do her job. I ain’t kickin’ the bucket yet. Oh and while you’re at it! Go home and wash, you smell like a raccoon that’s been rolling around in mud.”
I don’t know what a ‘raccoon’ was but, I’m sure it’s a dirty Earth animal. I’ve never cursed the venlil’s lack of smell more..
What a great first impression, Kilet! Show up unannounced, almost faint when you see him, look like a bum, and smell like twenty paw-old garbage. Thank the stars Sylvi can’t smell..
“U-Uh.. Sure.. I’ll do that, see ya later, Miles.” I managed to stammer out as a full bloom spread from my snout and down my neck. Rushing out of the room. I let out a deep sigh. Content with the news Miles’ was safe, and recovering.
Everything’s okay.. It.. It all worked out.
I took the long way back to my apartment. Walking instead of using the tubes. I needed the time to clear my head, to think. I thought about calling Rivis, but decided against it. He’s probably with Zoey and I didn’t want to interrupt any time they may be spending together. Besides, I’m exhausted. I just want to get home, and sleep the rest of this paw off.
Opening the door, I trudged into my apartment. Throwing my shoulder bag onto the couch and headed straight to my bed, letting myself fall into its comforting embrace. I let out a pleasant mewl as I stretched all my limbs, working the tightness out of them and wrapping my arms around my pillow. My tail curled up beside me. I let sleep overtake me as I whisked myself away to a pleasant rest dreaming of the next paw.
___________________
First - Previous - (Soon to be released)
Chapter 8 under wraps! Miles and Kilet finally met! Though not under the best circumstances. I wonder what's all in store for them? I’d like to thank each and every one of you for reading! As always I wouldn’t be writing this if you guys didn’t enjoy it. It’s always a lot of fun reading your comments. Naturally, a big thank you to Space Paladin for their amazing universe! As well as a shoutout to all the fanfics that inspired me, they will be at the bottom as always. Finally, a huge thanks to my lovely proofreader for really sitting down with me on this chapter. I tried to do some new things with my writing style, their help was instrumental in making sure this chapter was decent. Sadly my other usual proofreader was indisposed and was unable to help out, but I appreciate their help in all previous chapters none the less!
End of the Line
Foundations of Humanity
Nature of a Giant
Lost and Found
Proofreader(s):
NovaLux
"A silly little man"

4th of June, 2070
(One month after the Northeast park incident)
After the attack, it was clear what needed to be done. Elements of the 29th infantry division of the National Guard were stationed around Northeast park and were tasked with keeping watch over the now designated 'Rift' 24/7. Nothing was to get in or out without permission. The coast guard near San Diego was told to do the same. There has been no activity on either of them for a month, but the US Army didn't want to take chances.
At the UN council, the world came to a decision. The United States will attempt to solve this issue on its own, diplomatically. Elements of the US 75th Ranger regiment, 7th Infantry division, 1st Armored division, and 1st Special forces command have been organized into a force 30.000 strong and dubbed the Rift Expeditionary Corp or REC, led by Lieutenant General Patrick Coleman. They were tasked to cross to the other side, create an FOB and make contact with the natives. Despite prince Bodin Zorgen's constant attempts to persuade them otherwise, the US held strong to its decision. Any and all chances to stop bloodshed will be taken and America will not strike first. One of the conditions for peace will be the return of all captive Americans, this will not be negotiable.
This decision was not favored by some. The Chinese president, Bao Huang, suggested that the US should listen to Bodin and wage a full-blown war with the empire. He used the Empire of Japan as an example, a power that couldn't be negotiated with and chose war. US President Arthur McShane said that the empire and the elves received a vision through magic that humanity is a monstrous enemy that wishes to destroy their world. Bao refused to believe anything that 'magic' has to say but Arthur told him that if they do wage a war and strike, then they would only prove them right. Diplomacy needs to go first and should things go south, they'll cross that bridge when they get there.
The Russian president, Dmitri Vukov, suggested that the US should destroy the rifts so that they would not cause problems in the future. Out of sight, out of mind. There were two problems with this plan. First, the US had no way of doing this as they themselves don't possess magic and the rifts aren't affected by any physical means. Second, even if they destroy them, there exists a possibility of the elves opening another one, maybe in another part of the world, and should it open in an unprepared land, it would cause devastation. This is why Arthur urged all countries to create contingencies just for a situation like that. With all of this said, the UN council ultimately decided to let the US deal with this threat, however, NATO will be on alert should things take a turn for the worst.
Now it came down to picking the right people for the job. The empire wasn't the only faction they needed to make peace with. First things first, the Rosians. While prince Bodin is alive, they first needed to get them to know this. Second, they needed to make friendly relations with native elves. Not all of them are cold-hearted like the army. Turns out, most of them live in smaller communities and try to live their lives in peace. The plan is to make contact with them and show them that they aren't an enemy. Third, the tribal peoples. Between thirty and forty percent of lepians, feelians, leanoids, welfen, and others are enslaved by the elves and forced to do their bidding. About twenty percent fled south to the Rosian kingdoms to live in peace. The others live in scattered tribes across North Altia. The captured animal peoples will join the REC and help them establish peaceful relations with them. Finally, the other continents. Besides North Altia, there are also South Altia and Kaplios that are also under the empire's control. However, they are all in a war with the natives and aren't able to send any proper aid, so the UNEF is on low alert at the moment.
Several platoons of rangers have already been organized for the assignment, along with their lieutenants all that was missing was a certain prodigy.
Norfolk, Virginia
Connors estate
The Connors family has a long and proud military tradition dating all the way back to the first world war when Joshua Connors volunteered to go to Europe. World War II, Vietnam, Afghanistan, and even the Great Crisis. They've been through it all. But the current successor, Logan, wasn't too proud of that. It's soldiers who fight wars and bring death. Logan was naturally gifted with strength and skill. He was tall, and athletic and rose to the rank of captain at the age of twenty-five. Still, this didn't make him as happy as he wanted to be. He wondered if there is something else out there for him. But, that might just be a dream.
He lived alone in his house in Norfolk, Virginia near Deep Creek park. He'd usually wait for his sister, Penelope, to come back from her assignments at DARPA and go for a walk, but lately, she's been coming over less and less. At twenty-six, Logan didn't really know what to do anymore.
He sat down with a beer in his hand and turned on the TV. The first channel was the news, typical.
"Thank you Jack.", said the newscaster, "Now that we're at the end of our program I'd like to read you the decision President Arthur McShane has made regarding the now dubbed Rifts incident. The United States army will lead an expedition force through the land rift and attempt to make contact and creates peaceful relations with the Empire of Light. This decision is not supported by some American citizens, the majority of which are from North Carolina. Protesters have gathered near Northeast park and are demanding justice for their loved ones and their city. Still, the president is standing by his decision, and for the time being, the diplomatic approach will be taken. No NATO or other UN forces will intervene until the necessity arises. May God help our brave men and women. This is Kevin Harper, signing off."
The news ended and Logan turned off the TV while sipping his beer. A few moments later knocking came on his front door. Logan stood up and answered, only to find two men dressed in military uniforms standing in front of him. Both were clearly older than Logan and one had gray hair while the other one had blonde hair and carried a briefcase.
"Captain Logan Connors?", asked the man with gray hair.
"Yes.", Logan answered, "What can I do for you, Lieutenant General?"
"My name is Patrick Coleman and this is Brigadier General Oscar Wayne. May we come in?"
"Of course.". Logan let them enter and closed the door. He showed them to the living room where they took a seat on the couch and Logan sat in front of them. "Now. To what do I own the pleasure of sitting in front of the leader of the rift expeditionary force?"
Oscar was a bit stunned by his question, "How did you-"
"Why else would you be here? I'm one of the rangers that are going over there, aren't I?"
Patrick chuckled and pulled out a folder from the briefcase. "Logan Hannibal Connors. Unique middle name. Joined the military at age of 19, and was recruited into special forces at age of 24 upon reaching the rank of lieutenant but quit a month after starting. Rewarded the Medal of Honor and the rank of captain on August 29th in Thailand after saving three platoons of soldiers in an attack on a remnant True salvation outpost. Now serving the army rangers and saving up money to help his father, Marcus Connors, walk again after his legs were paralyzed in a car accident last year. Those new nerve surgeries sure are expensive."
"Where are you going with this lieutenant-general?", Logan asked.
"I don't want to sound like I'm trying to bribe you, that's not my job. I'm just saying that if you take this opportunity it will prove to be mutually beneficial."
Logan took a long look at the folder Patrick was holding. Was this really worth it? This could help his father, but he was going to a completely foreign land to fight an enemy only seen in fiction. He knew there was going to be war, that he will have to fight. Question was, could he? After much consideration, Logan spoke, "Fine. I'll do it. But I want my father's medical bills paid for in full and I want insurance for him and my sister."
"We can arrange that.", Patrick said, "Thank you for accepting this, captain."
"Don't thank me yet. But what's your role in all of this, brigadier general?"
"Me?", asked Oscar, "That's simple. I'm the commander of the first REC infantry brigade. We will go in first and prepare the terrain for the first armored brigade which will properly enforce FOB Galdush. That's the name of the place we're going to by the way."
"And I'm supposed to be in it?"
"Corectomundo, my friend."
"Alright. Let's go win a war then."
---
(Around the same time)
Undisclosed location
The invasion was over in several hours. Zoya had never seen such destruction. Thousands dead in minutes, great beasts slaughtered like cattle, and entire armies turned to blood and ash. She wished she had never come here. She should have just stayed with her tribe in the Great Bolma forest all those cycles ago and not run away. This is what she got for it. A life of enslavement and then being sent to a foreign land just to die.
'Mother. Sister.', she thought to herself as tears went down her face. She was now in a human prison, all alone, separated from her kin. That soldier, Jeff Miller brought her there. He could have killed her along with Bora, but didn't. The reason was never cleared to Zoya. 'Please be alright. I beg you spirits, watch over them. Don't let them suffer my fate.'
As she finished her thought, three loud knocks came from the metal door of her cell. A small window opened and a man spoke, "You. Do you understand me?" After hesitating a bit, Zoya nodded.
"Do you understand me?", he asked again.
"Yes! I understand you.", she said frightened.
"Please stand up.", he said and opened the bottom window. Zoya slowly moved to them and was put in chains. A feeling all too familiar. The cell door opened and she saw the man who talked to her. He was slightly taller and was wearing blue clothing of material unknown to Zoya, unlike the two armed guards who wore black armor.
"Come with me.", he said and led her through the halls. They walked for some time until they reached a door with glass on it. As they entered, the guards stood outside and Zoya sat down at a metal desk. Before the man sat down, he opened a box in the corner of the room and took a white plate of sorts. When he placed it in front of Zoya she saw it was food. Fried meat on one half and green and orange vegetables on the other. She first assumed it was a trick before the man gestured for her to eat. She took the meat and ate as fast as she could. It was delicious, way more than anything she had ever eaten. As she ate the man sat down and opened a thin book.
'He can read?', she thought, 'He must be a scholar then.'
He grabbed some kind of sharp stick and asked, "What is your name?"
"M-My name is Zoya."
"Last name?", she didn't answer, "Family name?"
"I... I don't have one."
"You are a lepian, correct?"
"Yes."
"Are there multiple kinds?"
'What kind of questions are these?', she thought, "Yes. Brown and orange. I am brown. You can see by my fur."
"Alright. Where are you from?"
The questions went on and on for what seemed like hours. The man asked Zoya about everything. How she fights, her skills, what can she do that an elf can't, and what are her relations with the other tribal peoples. She couldn't understand why all this was important. If she was going to be a slave, then not even her name mattered. Why? That question kept ringing in her head.
After a while, the man closed his book and spoke, "Alright, I think we're done here."
Zoya rubbed her hands and muttered, "Can you... can you tell me who my new owner will be? Is it you?"
The man seemed confused by her question, "Owner?"
"Y-Yes. My slave owner. Who am I going to?"
The man laughed a little, "Unbelievable. The others asked the same thing."
Now it was Zoya who was confused, "O-Others? What do you mean by others? Others of my kin? Or other tribals? Tell me."
"Relax. All your questions will be answered in there.", he said pointing at the door on the opposite side of the room from the one they came in, "Just step in and someone else will answer your questions."
The man removed Zoya's chains and then left through the same door they entered from. Zoya stood like a statue for a while. She didn't know what to do. Trust this human? He could be trying to deceive her. But either way, she didn't have a choice. She opened the door she was told to open and entered the room. Inside she saw chairs and three more people. One male welfen, one leanoid, and a familiar face.
"Bora!", she shouted.
"Zoya!", Bora shouted back and hugged her, "I thought you were dead." The two friends hugged for a while before Bora spoke again, "What happened? Did they hurt you?"
"No.", Zoya said, "They just asked me a lot of questions and even fed me."
"They did the same with us.", the welfen said, "The meat was very good, however."
"Yes.", said the leanoid, "For a moment I thought about killing that human for food. The questions confused me. He wanted to know what my strengths were and where are the rest of my people."
"Same with me.", said the welfen, "My name is Brokil by the way."
"I am Gorgo.", said the leanoid.
"A pleasure to meet you.", said Zoya.
"Likewise.", said Bora.
"I see you're getting along.", said a man as he walked into the room. All four of them were immediately on edge as five more entered behind him. They knew that these men were warriors, perhaps the elites of these humans. "That's good.". One of them looked elderly as he had gray hair. One had golden hair and blue eyes, one had medium brown hair, and two were bald, one of which was very tall and had dark skin. The one who entered first had short black hair and black eyes. He was the leader.
"Who are you?", asked Brokil.
"A bit rude.", said the leader.
"Answer the question.", demanded Gorgo.
"Well, we're gonna be working together. So why not?", said the leader after a short pause and sigh. This greatly confused the tribals. "My name is Julius Fisher, but I'm better known as Chief. The senior gentleman is John Castro, known as Pops. This big fella is Griffin West, call him Boxer. The guy eyeballing you is Rick Hunt, Lucky. The ladies man here is Noah Ramirez, he likes to be called Pretty Boy. And last but not least, this is Ryan Spencer, better known as Rook."
"Hi.", said Rook as he waved.
"We are soldiers of the First Special Forces Command, also known as Green Berets, and our team is Spearhead. And you are Brokil, Bora, Gorgo, and Zoya. Nice to meet you all."
The four relaxed a little bit but were still confused. Finally, Bora spoke, "What did you mean by working with us?"
"Oh that.", Chief said, "My superiors think it's a good idea to work with the native tribal peoples as we know you hate the empire and the elves."
"That may be true.", said Gorgo, "But what makes you think we will fight for you?"
"I never said for us, I said with us. We will work together and beat the empire."
"Why?", Zoya asked, "We all saw what you're capable of. You can turn all the elven armies to ash if you wanted. What do you gain from using us?"
"We gain knowledge.", said Pops, "We don't know much about your land and we can use a guide. Besides, allies are always good in war. It's true that we can completely destroy the empire if we wanted to, but that is not how we wage war. In doing so we would kill tens of millions of people and that is not something we want."
This came as a surprise to the four. A force so powerful and yet they choose not to use their power to the fullest and crush their enemies? They sound nothing like the elves.
"Furthermore.", said Pretty Boy, "We're not the monsters your elves say we are. In truth all we want is peace. But since that might not be possible, we have to make plans for the future."
"And why us?", asked Bora, "Why do you care about what happens to us?"
"Because we want to help you.", said Rook, attracting the four's attention.
"Why?", asked Zoya.
"'Cause slavery is wrong.", Boxer said, "And we know a thing or two about that."
This came as a shock to the four. Do they know? Does that mean they were slaves, too?
"You see.", Lucky spoke, "A long time ago, there existed an empire called Great Britain. They, much like your elves, had the bright idea of conquering the world. At some point, they conquered our country and turned us into their slaves. But our ancestors rebelled and we beat them. From that point on, we decided to end slavery everywhere. Because everyone deserves to be free. No one can own another person's life."
The four could just listen. A part of them didn't believe this. These people fought against their rulers and won. And now they seek to eradicate slavery everywhere. This was too good to be true.
"So...", Zoya said, "We fight for, I mean, with you, and we gain our freedom?"
"Not just you.", Rook said, "But all of your people as well. All of your tribes will be free and no longer hunted by the empire."
"This seems too good.", Brokil said. Chief walked up to him and placed his hand on his shoulder.
"I promise you.", Chief spoke, "You and all your people will gain their freedom, if you help us win this war." The four walked to the corner of the room and whispered to each other.
"You think they're gonna accept?", Rook asked.
"I have a gut feeling.", Chief replied.
After some time, Bora stepped forward and spoke, "Alright. We will join you and fight. What do you want us to do?"
Chief smiled, "First, I need you to try these on.". He walked to a large wooden crate and out of it took out some clothing. They looked thick and were green in color, but it wasn't armor. It looked similar to what the humans were wearing. "Then, I need you to sit down and listen carefully."
---
(Twenty days after REC crossed over)
Late yellow season
Past the Yellow forest, Meilume region
General Drannor Crax needed to hurry. The news of the invasion force being destroyed in less than a day was as troubling as it was unbelievable. According to the surviving soldiers, the enemy has boomsticks and cannons much like the dwarves, but more powerful and devastating. This made the general feel worried but also relieved. He knew how the dwarves fought and how their weapons worked. Moreover, he had dwarves in his army and this would help him. The enemy is a more powerful version just meant that he needed to be more careful. At least in his mind.
The force of the VII army along with five thousand dwarves and five thousand auxiliary marched to the Galdush fields in hopes of preventing the enemy from making a foothold in Meilume from which to launch an assault. It might have been a good idea to get one of the three east coast fleets to launch an organized strike from the coast so they can pincer them, but it was too late to plan now. They were now eighty leagues from Galdush and one hill separated them from a straight towards the enemy. Drannor decided to go over the plan one more time in order to finish this battle with perfection.
In his personal tent, he spoke to his captains and the dwarves, "Do your troops know the strategy?"
"Of course.", said captain Bamur of the dwarves, "Dunan and I are prepared."
"Our legions are also ready, sir.", said the first captain of the elven army.
"Excellent.", Drannor said, "The spearhead of the attack will be the feral auxiliary, the dwarven legions, and the wyvern corp. The combined force of over forty thousand shall attack the enemy from the front, with the ferals serving as a distraction the dwarves will launch the initial attack with cannons and move in with shooters. The infantry and archer legions will move in from the right but not before the cavalry penetrates the enemy's left flank. We must strike hard, fast, and make sure the enemy can't use its cannons against us."
"I do not like the idea of our troops going in as distractions.", said Dunan.
"Have a better strategy, dwarf?", asked the first captain, "The general is the one in command here.". Dunan scoffed at that and didn't say anything.
"This is the best we can do.", Drannor said. At that moment, a lepian walked into the tent.
"I have news.", she said walking closer but was stopped by one of the captains.
"Aren't you forgetting something?", he said.
The lepian groaned and knelt. "My lord. I bring news."
"Speak.", Drannor said.
"I have returned with my scouts from observing the enemy."
"What have you seen?"
"They have already built a fortification of sorts."
This troubled the officers and the general in the tent. The enemy already has a foothold in their land. Perhaps their cannons aren't the most dangerous part about them.
"What kind of fortification?", the second captain asked.
"It is... strange. They have short walls and round metallic tents as well as long silver bushes. On top of that, many of the soldiers spent their entire day digging holes using metal monsters." This didn't trouble them as much as it made them confused. What kind of fortifications were these?
"What of their weapons and numbers?", asked the sixth captain.
"As far as we know, they have many strange-looking cannons that face upwards as well as several long cannons on iron carriages. Their numbers however can't be higher than eight thousand.". To this, the officers widened their eyes and some smiled.
"Only eight thousand?", said the fifth captain, "They dare think so low of us."
"Seems like you won't even need to send your army, Drannor.", said Bamur, "We will deal with the enemy and scavenge what remains."
"This does not feel right.", Drannor said.
"What are you saying, sir?", asked the tenth captain, "Not only will we destroy the enemy, but also prove why we are not to be trifled with."
"Do you forget already? This is the same army that defeated the first invasion force. I will not make the same mistake of underestimating our enemy. If what the survivors say is true, then their numbers mean nothing.". The tent turned quiet. Drannor's words held truth. If this is the same army that defeated general Ylindar, then they cannot afford to take chances.
"My lord.", the lepian spoke.
"What is it?", Drannor replied.
"I am just a scout, but when my people attack we usually prefer to go on a night raid and strike the enemy when they least expect it."
"You expect us to use such a barbaric and dishonorable tactic?", asked the third captain in disgust, "What do you take us for?"
"This is no time for being picky.", Drannor said, "It is a sound strategy, often used when facing an enemy with a strong defense. Attacking at night will limit their capabilities. Perhaps even inhibit them from using their cannons."
"You cannot hit what you cannot see.", said Dunan, "If we get close enough, it will not matter how powerful they are. Our numbers will drown them."
At last, a sense of hope filled their hearts. Perhaps not all was lost. This could work.
"Very well.", Drannor said, "Spread the word to all soldiers. The tactic remains the same, just that it will be a night raid. And tenth captain?"
"Yes general?", he asked.
"The wyvern corps will not move in. They can't fly well in an organized formation at night."
"Yes, general."
"Lepian."
"Yes my lord?", she asked.
"Take your scouts and prepare for the raid. You will infiltrate their base and cause distortion."
"Yes my lord.". With that, she left and the other officers as well. It was time to prepare. This will be the first battle with the enemy in the empire's own borders. No matter what, they needed to win. Or at the very least, make the enemy bleed.
---
Everything was prepared. The feral auxiliary already started moving forward and the dwarves steadily advanced behind them. The warhogs moved first, behind them were warriors, then shooters, and finally the cannon crew. Dunan was on the right and Bamur on the left, each ready to give orders and lead their legions to battle. As they moved closer they could see the enemy fortification in the distance. It looked just like how the lepian described it. All that was not immediately visible were the cannons. Perhaps they were camouflaged. A tactic used often by the dwarven general of the second Halboram army, Kutmec Coalcloack. He would paint his cannons in the color of the surroundings so the enemy couldn't see them until it was too late. No matter, all they had to do was get close.
"What do you think will happen, commander?", asked a dwarven shooter.
"We will win.", Dunan answered, "We have to. And after this, we will get what we were promised."
The dwarves wouldn't typically choose to fight alongside the elves unless there was something in it for them. Such was their nature. The dwarven kingdoms have good relations with the empire as miners, builders, and blacksmiths. A large portion of elven mines are mostly run by dwarves and with that, the dwarves gain a fifth of the profit. If they dug out five ores of iron, they would get one and if the ore is sold for five pieces of silver, they get one, and so forth. This made the dwarven economy boom as the elves control roughly eighty percent of the Tubal mountains. Now the emperor gave them an offer they could not refuse. If they contributed to the war, they would receive half of the earnings from North Altia, but also half of the earnings from the other side of the rift. The dwarves, due to their lust for riches, could not say no. Of course, king Bylnar of Benullur refused, but the other two kings assumed that when they win the war, Bylnar would see that he was wrong. And if he didn't, the elves would take care of him.
"I hope we do win, commander.", the shooter continued, "I want revenge for what they did to general Dalmin."
"So do I.", Dunan said, "But we must not be-"
Suddenly, explosions came from the front lines. The feral auxiliary started to die out as the ground burst into flames. Orcs, swine, ogres, and trolls were all being destroyed and their scorched bodies were scattered across the field. But there was something strange. The cannons weren't firing. Dunan would have seen them if they did. So how? It's almost as if the ground beneath the ferals exploded on its own as they crossed it. But that shouldn't be possible.
The dwarves were all in shock. "Commander!", shouted the shooter, "What do we do?!"
Dunan was stunned for a moment but spoke, "At this point, I would signal the wyverns. But we left them behind.". Before he could say more, something he never thought would happen, happened. A bright light flew into the air, shining like the sun. Then another and another. The whole sky was filled with them. What kind of magic was this?
"Commander?", a shooter asked.
"All legions, charge!", Dunan shouted, "Quickly, charge! They see us! We must reach them as quickly as possible! Go!". Dunan charged with his warhog. The rest of the cavalry charged with him as well as the infantry and shooters. Now that they can see them, it was only a matter of time before their cannons took aim. They needed to hurry. The hogs ran and ran, behind them the thousands of warriors and shooters. In the distance, he could see cannons and rods pointed upwards as well as the enemy running toward some of them. "Scatter!", he ordered and the dwarves did just that. They knew the power of a cannon and that they couldn't stay clumped together. But they weren't quick enough and the cannons opened fire. The upward-facing rods shot into the air and explosions erupted around the dwarves. Despite them being somewhat scattered they were losing hundreds. The warriors screamed in pain as their arms and legs were scattered over the land, the shooters fired at the enemy, hoping they would cause at least some amount of damage, but fared no better than the warriors. The cannon crew fired as well but were horrified at the sight. Their cannons couldn't reach and were destroyed by the enemies.
Dunan didn't fair much better. His cavalry was almost destroyed and he himself began to realize he would lose. But not before drawing blood, spirits damn him. He had made it to the lines the ferals crossed. He could see craters in the ground and bodies around them. Trolls and ogres were missing legs and heads while orcs and swine were blown to pieces. The ground beneath them did erupt. Dunan knew he would have to be careful, but he couldn't finish his train of thought as the ground beneath his hog exploded and he was tossed on the ground. As he slowly and painfully got on his knees, he removed his helmet and looked around him. None of his soldiers got through, they were all dead or dying. Some retreated, hopefully, they can tell the others. To the left he saw Banur's body, half of it in a pool of blood and the other half gone, he suffered the same fate. Exhausted and frightened, Dunan lay there and prayed. Perhaps the enemy won't see him.
On the left flank, the eighth and ninth captain led their respective cavalry legions. Ten thousand cavalry troops, ready to fulfill their part. As the two captains moved in they could hear the explosions and death on the central front, but there was nothing they could do. Now that the enemy used its magic to create light they needed to hurry. The cavalry charged in two arrowhead formations and had one target, the enemy's left flank. Their mission was to break it and move into the enemy's center so the infantry can take the rift.
The horses ran as fast as they could and could see the enemy's fortification. All that was defending them was a line of silver thorns. The eighth captain rushed in, hoping to jump over, but the thorns were too thick and the horses got stuck. Hundreds of horses got entangled in the thorns and the elves were thrown over. Thousands behind them either trampled themselves or stopped.
"Scatter!", yelled the eighth captain, "You have to get out of here! The enem-". Before he could say more the horses and elves were engulfed in flames. They screamed as they were burned and torn apart.
The ninth captain ran to the eighth and shook him, "Come on! We're still alive! We can reach the enemy on foot!". There was some truth to that. They still had hundreds of soldiers.
"You are right.", he said and drew his sword, "Forward soldiers! We still have a mission!". So he ran towards the enemy fortification alongside the ninth captain and hundreds of soldiers. He had not just hope, but confidence. Confidence that he can still do what he needed to do. Confidence was shattered as the enemy fired upon him. Their boomsticks spat thousands of led arrows at them as if hundreds of thousands of dwarves were in front of them. His elves were dying and dying quickly. They couldn't even get close as they were torn apart and left screaming on the ground. Time seemed to slow down for him. He turned to all sides and swore he could see the arrowheads pierce his soldiers. He could see the blood pouring out of them and the life escaping their bodies. He faced forward just in time to see the arrow coming toward him. It pierced his forehead, and in those few final moments, he thought of his home and how all of this was a mistake.
On the right flank, general Drannor moved with his men. He could hear and see the explosions on the other sides. How could the enemy have known they would come, and worse off how could they possess such magic to create suns in the night sky, was beyond him. He led forty thousand troops in hopes to penetrate the enemy's flank, but it hasn't been going well. They were being slowed down by iron thorns and were forced to use shields to get across. A large part of the army got over them, but then the enemy attacked. Their cannons fired cannon balls that killed dozens of soldiers per hit, blasting them to pieces. Most of the army that was on the outside of the thorns was destroyed and Drannor could only watch the horror unfold before him. After one of the explosions, a soldier was sent flying toward Drannor, knocking him to the ground. At the same time, the enemy fired its boomsticks and tore through his men. First, they killed the ones on the sides and then worked their way in. The survivors gathered near the general and created a layered shield formation, hoping to save him.
When Drannor came to his senses he got up and shouted, "You fools! You have to run! Scatter before they-", but it was too late. The enemy's weapons destroyed their shields and soldiers all around him began to fall, screaming in pain as their hearts, lungs, and heads were pierced by thousands of lead arrows. Drannor just stood there. Miraculously, he wasn't injured. He looked to all sides and saw nothing but carnage. Most of the men that crossed the iron thorns were dead, the ones behind either got blown to pieces or fled.
Drannor just walked. Slowly. He walked towards the enemy as he was taking off his helmet, then his wrist guards, then shoulder pads, and finally his breastplate. He extended his arms and closed his eyes as if he accepted his fate. It was his fault that nearly a hundred thousand people died, so now he was ready to pay the price. As he walked closer to the source of the firing, he noticed it started to die down. He assumed all his men were dead. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw a bright white light in front of him and a shadowy figure walking closer.
'Morto?', he thought, 'Have you come to collect my soul?'. As the figure got closer, he saw a pale-skinned man with a black boomstick and before he could react, the man hit him in the head and Drannor was knocked out cold. With that, it was over.
---
It was finally over. The ferals were all dead and the surrendering and wounded elves and dwarves were brought to Galdush base. This couldn't have been a battle, more of a one-sided slaughter. The enemy walked straight into them. First, the minefield destroyed the ferals and the leftover claymores took care of most of the dwarven cavalry. The entrenched Abrams tanks and mortars cleared the rest. Their cannons fired, but couldn't reach the foxholes.
On the right, the elven cavalry made their way to the barbed wire and misunderstood how it worked, which caused them to fall over and leave the horses trapped. Mortar fire destroyed what was on the outer portion and machine guns cleared the foot soldiers that tried to rush them.
The left side was bloodier. The infantry used their shields to get across the barbed wire, but most weren't quick enough and were killed by the mortars and tanks. The ones that did survive put their shields in layers, but that didn't help them much. After most of them died, the several dozen that still had a brain left and one crazy bastard stripped his armor and walked to the machine guns. Luckily, Logan stopped the firing and knocked the nutjob out.
The army was rounding up the survivors, cuffing them, and sending them to a special prison back in the States. Some struggled, but ultimately couldn't do much. From the scorched field came a group of tribals. They walked slowly in shock at what just happened.
"Hold it!", said one of the army soldiers who pointed his gun at them. The tribals raised their hands.
"Lower your weapons.", said Chief, "That's not how you treat your allies."
From behind Chief came Zoya, "Mina. Are you alright?"
"Yes.", spoke the lepian, "I'm just in shock. When you said they were powerful I never imagined this."
"I know. I can hardly believe it myself. Let me introduce you to someone.", she said as she gestured to Chief, "This is Julius Fisher, the chief of the humans' elite warriors."
"A pleasure to meet you, Mina. You helped us out a lot.", Chief said as he extended his hand. After a slight hesitation, Mina shook it.
"You!", yelled an elf as he was pushed, "You traitor! When the others find out about this, they will have the heads of your families, and then-", his bantering was stopped by a kick to the stomach delivered by Zoya which knocked him several feet back.
"Shut up.", she said.
"Is it really true?", Mina asked, "Will you really save my people?"
"Yes.", Chief said, "In time, we will free all of you."
This made Mina smile, "Then, we will fight alongside you.". She turned around and waved her hand several times. Far away in the tall grass, Chief could see people rise and walk towards them. A battalion-sized force of tribals. Lepians, feelians, leanoids, and welfen all walked towards the base. A lot of the soldiers stopped what they were doing and stared at them. The elves and dwarves felt nothing but disgust.
Chief chuckled and so did Pretty Boy next to him, "We're gonna need more uniforms."
End of chapter 6
---
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4th of June, 2070
(One month after the Northeast park incident)
After the attack, it was clear what needed to be done. Elements of the 29th infantry division of the National Guard were stationed around Northeast park and were tasked with keeping watch over the now designated 'Rift' 24/7. Nothing was to get in or out without permission. The coast guard near San Diego was told to do the same. There has been no activity on either of them for a month, but the US Army didn't want to take chances.
At the UN council, the world came to a decision. The United States will attempt to solve this issue on its own, diplomatically. Elements of the US 75th Ranger regiment, 7th Infantry division, 1st Armored division, and 1st Special forces command have been organized into a force 30.000 strong and dubbed the Rift Expeditionary Corp or REC, led by Lieutenant General Patrick Coleman. They were tasked to cross to the other side, create an FOB and make contact with the natives. Despite prince Bodin Zorgen's constant attempts to persuade them otherwise, the US held strong to its decision. Any and all chances to stop bloodshed will be taken and America will not strike first. One of the conditions for peace will be the return of all captive Americans, this will not be negotiable.
This decision was not favored by some. The Chinese president, Bao Huang, suggested that the US should listen to Bodin and wage a full-blown war with the empire. He used the Empire of Japan as an example, a power that couldn't be negotiated with and chose war. US President Arthur McShane said that the empire and the elves received a vision through magic that humanity is a monstrous enemy that wishes to destroy their world. Bao refused to believe anything that 'magic' has to say but Arthur told him that if they do wage a war and strike, then they would only prove them right. Diplomacy needs to go first and should things go south, they'll cross that bridge when they get there.
The Russian president, Dmitri Vukov, suggested that the US should destroy the rifts so that they would not cause problems in the future. Out of sight, out of mind. There were two problems with this plan. First, the US had no way of doing this as they themselves don't possess magic and the rifts aren't affected by any physical means. Second, even if they destroy them, there exists a possibility of the elves opening another one, maybe in another part of the world, and should it open in an unprepared land, it would cause devastation. This is why Arthur urged all countries to create contingencies just for a situation like that. With all of this said, the UN council ultimately decided to let the US deal with this threat, however, NATO will be on alert should things take a turn for the worst.
Now it came down to picking the right people for the job. The empire wasn't the only faction they needed to make peace with. First things first, the Rosians. While prince Bodin is alive, they first needed to get them to know this. Second, they needed to make friendly relations with native elves. Not all of them are cold-hearted like the army. Turns out, most of them live in smaller communities and try to live their lives in peace. The plan is to make contact with them and show them that they aren't an enemy. Third, the tribal peoples. Between thirty and forty percent of lepians, feelians, leanoids, welfen, and others are enslaved by the elves and forced to do their bidding. About twenty percent fled south to the Rosian kingdoms to live in peace. The others live in scattered tribes across North Altia. The captured animal peoples will join the REC and help them establish peaceful relations with them. Finally, the other continents. Besides North Altia, there are also South Altia and Kaplios that are also under the empire's control. However, they are all in a war with the natives and aren't able to send any proper aid, so the UNEF is on low alert at the moment.
Several platoons of rangers have already been organized for the assignment, along with their lieutenants all that was missing was a certain prodigy.
Norfolk, Virginia
Connors estate
The Connors family has a long and proud military tradition dating all the way back to the first world war when Joshua Connors volunteered to go to Europe. World War II, Vietnam, Afghanistan, and even the Great Crisis. They've been through it all. But the current successor, Logan, wasn't too proud of that. It's soldiers who fight wars and bring death. Logan was naturally gifted with strength and skill. He was tall, and athletic and rose to the rank of captain at the age of twenty-five. Still, this didn't make him as happy as he wanted to be. He wondered if there is something else out there for him. But, that might just be a dream.
He lived alone in his house in Norfolk, Virginia near Deep Creek park. He'd usually wait for his sister, Penelope, to come back from her assignments at DARPA and go for a walk, but lately, she's been coming over less and less. At twenty-six, Logan didn't really know what to do anymore.
He sat down with a beer in his hand and turned on the TV. The first channel was the news, typical.
"Thank you Jack.", said the newscaster, "Now that we're at the end of our program I'd like to read you the decision President Arthur McShane has made regarding the now dubbed Rifts incident. The United States army will lead an expedition force through the land rift and attempt to make contact and creates peaceful relations with the Empire of Light. This decision is not supported by some American citizens, the majority of which are from North Carolina. Protesters have gathered near Northeast park and are demanding justice for their loved ones and their city. Still, the president is standing by his decision, and for the time being, the diplomatic approach will be taken. No NATO or other UN forces will intervene until the necessity arises. May God help our brave men and women. This is Kevin Harper, signing off."
The news ended and Logan turned off the TV while sipping his beer. A few moments later knocking came on his front door. Logan stood up and answered, only to find two men dressed in military uniforms standing in front of him. Both were clearly older than Logan and one had gray hair while the other one had blonde hair and carried a briefcase.
"Captain Logan Connors?", asked the man with gray hair.
"Yes.", Logan answered, "What can I do for you, Lieutenant General?"
"My name is Patrick Coleman and this is Brigadier General Oscar Wayne. May we come in?"
"Of course.". Logan let them enter and closed the door. He showed them to the living room where they took a seat on the couch and Logan sat in front of them. "Now. To what do I own the pleasure of sitting in front of the leader of the rift expeditionary force?"
Oscar was a bit stunned by his question, "How did you-"
"Why else would you be here? I'm one of the rangers that are going over there, aren't I?"
Patrick chuckled and pulled out a folder from the briefcase. "Logan Hannibal Connors. Unique middle name. Joined the military at age of 19, and was recruited into special forces at age of 24 upon reaching the rank of lieutenant but quit a month after starting. Rewarded the Medal of Honor and the rank of captain on August 29th in Thailand after saving three platoons of soldiers in an attack on a remnant True salvation outpost. Now serving the army rangers and saving up money to help his father, Marcus Connors, walk again after his legs were paralyzed in a car accident last year. Those new nerve surgeries sure are expensive."
"Where are you going with this lieutenant-general?", Logan asked.
"I don't want to sound like I'm trying to bribe you, that's not my job. I'm just saying that if you take this opportunity it will prove to be mutually beneficial."
Logan took a long look at the folder Patrick was holding. Was this really worth it? This could help his father, but he was going to a completely foreign land to fight an enemy only seen in fiction. He knew there was going to be war, that he will have to fight. Question was, could he? After much consideration, Logan spoke, "Fine. I'll do it. But I want my father's medical bills paid for in full and I want insurance for him and my sister."
"We can arrange that.", Patrick said, "Thank you for accepting this, captain."
"Don't thank me yet. But what's your role in all of this, brigadier general?"
"Me?", asked Oscar, "That's simple. I'm the commander of the first REC infantry brigade. We will go in first and prepare the terrain for the first armored brigade which will properly enforce FOB Galdush. That's the name of the place we're going to by the way."
"And I'm supposed to be in it?"
"Corectomundo, my friend."
"Alright. Let's go win a war then."
---
(Around the same time)
Undisclosed location
The invasion was over in several hours. Zoya had never seen such destruction. Thousands dead in minutes, great beasts slaughtered like cattle, and entire armies turned to blood and ash. She wished she had never come here. She should have just stayed with her tribe in the Great Bolma forest all those cycles ago and not run away. This is what she got for it. A life of enslavement and then being sent to a foreign land just to die.
'Mother. Sister.', she thought to herself as tears went down her face. She was now in a human prison, all alone, separated from her kin. That soldier, Jeff Miller brought her there. He could have killed her along with Bora, but didn't. The reason was never cleared to Zoya. 'Please be alright. I beg you spirits, watch over them. Don't let them suffer my fate.'
As she finished her thought, three loud knocks came from the metal door of her cell. A small window opened and a man spoke, "You. Do you understand me?" After hesitating a bit, Zoya nodded.
"Do you understand me?", he asked again.
"Yes! I understand you.", she said frightened.
"Please stand up.", he said and opened the bottom window. Zoya slowly moved to them and was put in chains. A feeling all too familiar. The cell door opened and she saw the man who talked to her. He was slightly taller and was wearing blue clothing of material unknown to Zoya, unlike the two armed guards who wore black armor.
"Come with me.", he said and led her through the halls. They walked for some time until they reached a door with glass on it. As they entered, the guards stood outside and Zoya sat down at a metal desk. Before the man sat down, he opened a box in the corner of the room and took a white plate of sorts. When he placed it in front of Zoya she saw it was food. Fried meat on one half and green and orange vegetables on the other. She first assumed it was a trick before the man gestured for her to eat. She took the meat and ate as fast as she could. It was delicious, way more than anything she had ever eaten. As she ate the man sat down and opened a thin book.
'He can read?', she thought, 'He must be a scholar then.'
He grabbed some kind of sharp stick and asked, "What is your name?"
"M-My name is Zoya."
"Last name?", she didn't answer, "Family name?"
"I... I don't have one."
"You are a lepian, correct?"
"Yes."
"Are there multiple kinds?"
'What kind of questions are these?', she thought, "Yes. Brown and orange. I am brown. You can see by my fur."
"Alright. Where are you from?"
The questions went on and on for what seemed like hours. The man asked Zoya about everything. How she fights, her skills, what can she do that an elf can't, and what are her relations with the other tribal peoples. She couldn't understand why all this was important. If she was going to be a slave, then not even her name mattered. Why? That question kept ringing in her head.
After a while, the man closed his book and spoke, "Alright, I think we're done here."
Zoya rubbed her hands and muttered, "Can you... can you tell me who my new owner will be? Is it you?"
The man seemed confused by her question, "Owner?"
"Y-Yes. My slave owner. Who am I going to?"
The man laughed a little, "Unbelievable. The others asked the same thing."
Now it was Zoya who was confused, "O-Others? What do you mean by others? Others of my kin? Or other tribals? Tell me."
"Relax. All your questions will be answered in there.", he said pointing at the door on the opposite side of the room from the one they came in, "Just step in and someone else will answer your questions."
The man removed Zoya's chains and then left through the same door they entered from. Zoya stood like a statue for a while. She didn't know what to do. Trust this human? He could be trying to deceive her. But either way, she didn't have a choice. She opened the door she was told to open and entered the room. Inside she saw chairs and three more people. One male welfen, one leanoid, and a familiar face.
"Bora!", she shouted.
"Zoya!", Bora shouted back and hugged her, "I thought you were dead." The two friends hugged for a while before Bora spoke again, "What happened? Did they hurt you?"
"No.", Zoya said, "They just asked me a lot of questions and even fed me."
"They did the same with us.", the welfen said, "The meat was very good, however."
"Yes.", said the leanoid, "For a moment I thought about killing that human for food. The questions confused me. He wanted to know what my strengths were and where are the rest of my people."
"Same with me.", said the welfen, "My name is Brokil by the way."
"I am Gorgo.", said the leanoid.
"A pleasure to meet you.", said Zoya.
"Likewise.", said Bora.
"I see you're getting along.", said a man as he walked into the room. All four of them were immediately on edge as five more entered behind him. They knew that these men were warriors, perhaps the elites of these humans. "That's good.". One of them looked elderly as he had gray hair. One had golden hair and blue eyes, one had medium brown hair, and two were bald, one of which was very tall and had dark skin. The one who entered first had short black hair and black eyes. He was the leader.
"Who are you?", asked Brokil.
"A bit rude.", said the leader.
"Answer the question.", demanded Gorgo.
"Well, we're gonna be working together. So why not?", said the leader after a short pause and sigh. This greatly confused the tribals. "My name is Julius Fisher, but I'm better known as Chief. The senior gentleman is John Castro, known as Pops. This big fella is Griffin West, call him Boxer. The guy eyeballing you is Rick Hunt, Lucky. The ladies man here is Noah Ramirez, he likes to be called Pretty Boy. And last but not least, this is Ryan Spencer, better known as Rook."
"Hi.", said Rook as he waved.
"We are soldiers of the First Special Forces Command, also known as Green Berets, and our team is Spearhead. And you are Brokil, Bora, Gorgo, and Zoya. Nice to meet you all."
The four relaxed a little bit but were still confused. Finally, Bora spoke, "What did you mean by working with us?"
"Oh that.", Chief said, "My superiors think it's a good idea to work with the native tribal peoples as we know you hate the empire and the elves."
"That may be true.", said Gorgo, "But what makes you think we will fight for you?"
"I never said for us, I said with us. We will work together and beat the empire."
"Why?", Zoya asked, "We all saw what you're capable of. You can turn all the elven armies to ash if you wanted. What do you gain from using us?"
"We gain knowledge.", said Pops, "We don't know much about your land and we can use a guide. Besides, allies are always good in war. It's true that we can completely destroy the empire if we wanted to, but that is not how we wage war. In doing so we would kill tens of millions of people and that is not something we want."
This came as a surprise to the four. A force so powerful and yet they choose not to use their power to the fullest and crush their enemies? They sound nothing like the elves.
"Furthermore.", said Pretty Boy, "We're not the monsters your elves say we are. In truth all we want is peace. But since that might not be possible, we have to make plans for the future."
"And why us?", asked Bora, "Why do you care about what happens to us?"
"Because we want to help you.", said Rook, attracting the four's attention.
"Why?", asked Zoya.
"'Cause slavery is wrong.", Boxer said, "And we know a thing or two about that."
This came as a shock to the four. Do they know? Does that mean they were slaves, too?
"You see.", Lucky spoke, "A long time ago, there existed an empire called Great Britain. They, much like your elves, had the bright idea of conquering the world. At some point, they conquered our country and turned us into their slaves. But our ancestors rebelled and we beat them. From that point on, we decided to end slavery everywhere. Because everyone deserves to be free. No one can own another person's life."
The four could just listen. A part of them didn't believe this. These people fought against their rulers and won. And now they seek to eradicate slavery everywhere. This was too good to be true.
"So...", Zoya said, "We fight for, I mean, with you, and we gain our freedom?"
"Not just you.", Rook said, "But all of your people as well. All of your tribes will be free and no longer hunted by the empire."
"This seems too good.", Brokil said. Chief walked up to him and placed his hand on his shoulder.
"I promise you.", Chief spoke, "You and all your people will gain their freedom, if you help us win this war." The four walked to the corner of the room and whispered to each other.
"You think they're gonna accept?", Rook asked.
"I have a gut feeling.", Chief replied.
After some time, Bora stepped forward and spoke, "Alright. We will join you and fight. What do you want us to do?"
Chief smiled, "First, I need you to try these on.". He walked to a large wooden crate and out of it took out some clothing. They looked thick and were green in color, but it wasn't armor. It looked similar to what the humans were wearing. "Then, I need you to sit down and listen carefully."
---
(Twenty days after REC crossed over)
Late yellow season
Past the Yellow forest, Meilume region
General Drannor Crax needed to hurry. The news of the invasion force being destroyed in less than a day was as troubling as it was unbelievable. According to the surviving soldiers, the enemy has boomsticks and cannons much like the dwarves, but more powerful and devastating. This made the general feel worried but also relieved. He knew how the dwarves fought and how their weapons worked. Moreover, he had dwarves in his army and this would help him. The enemy is a more powerful version just meant that he needed to be more careful. At least in his mind.
The force of the VII army along with five thousand dwarves and five thousand auxiliary marched to the Galdush fields in hopes of preventing the enemy from making a foothold in Meilume from which to launch an assault. It might have been a good idea to get one of the three east coast fleets to launch an organized strike from the coast so they can pincer them, but it was too late to plan now. They were now eighty leagues from Galdush and one hill separated them from a straight towards the enemy. Drannor decided to go over the plan one more time in order to finish this battle with perfection.
In his personal tent, he spoke to his captains and the dwarves, "Do your troops know the strategy?"
"Of course.", said captain Bamur of the dwarves, "Dunan and I are prepared."
"Our legions are also ready, sir.", said the first captain of the elven army.
"Excellent.", Drannor said, "The spearhead of the attack will be the feral auxiliary, the dwarven legions, and the wyvern corp. The combined force of over forty thousand shall attack the enemy from the front, with the ferals serving as a distraction the dwarves will launch the initial attack with cannons and move in with shooters. The infantry and archer legions will move in from the right but not before the cavalry penetrates the enemy's left flank. We must strike hard, fast, and make sure the enemy can't use its cannons against us."
"I do not like the idea of our troops going in as distractions.", said Dunan.
"Have a better strategy, dwarf?", asked the first captain, "The general is the one in command here.". Dunan scoffed at that and didn't say anything.
"This is the best we can do.", Drannor said. At that moment, a lepian walked into the tent.
"I have news.", she said walking closer but was stopped by one of the captains.
"Aren't you forgetting something?", he said.
The lepian groaned and knelt. "My lord. I bring news."
"Speak.", Drannor said.
"I have returned with my scouts from observing the enemy."
"What have you seen?"
"They have already built a fortification of sorts."
This troubled the officers and the general in the tent. The enemy already has a foothold in their land. Perhaps their cannons aren't the most dangerous part about them.
"What kind of fortification?", the second captain asked.
"It is... strange. They have short walls and round metallic tents as well as long silver bushes. On top of that, many of the soldiers spent their entire day digging holes using metal monsters." This didn't trouble them as much as it made them confused. What kind of fortifications were these?
"What of their weapons and numbers?", asked the sixth captain.
"As far as we know, they have many strange-looking cannons that face upwards as well as several long cannons on iron carriages. Their numbers however can't be higher than eight thousand.". To this, the officers widened their eyes and some smiled.
"Only eight thousand?", said the fifth captain, "They dare think so low of us."
"Seems like you won't even need to send your army, Drannor.", said Bamur, "We will deal with the enemy and scavenge what remains."
"This does not feel right.", Drannor said.
"What are you saying, sir?", asked the tenth captain, "Not only will we destroy the enemy, but also prove why we are not to be trifled with."
"Do you forget already? This is the same army that defeated the first invasion force. I will not make the same mistake of underestimating our enemy. If what the survivors say is true, then their numbers mean nothing.". The tent turned quiet. Drannor's words held truth. If this is the same army that defeated general Ylindar, then they cannot afford to take chances.
"My lord.", the lepian spoke.
"What is it?", Drannor replied.
"I am just a scout, but when my people attack we usually prefer to go on a night raid and strike the enemy when they least expect it."
"You expect us to use such a barbaric and dishonorable tactic?", asked the third captain in disgust, "What do you take us for?"
"This is no time for being picky.", Drannor said, "It is a sound strategy, often used when facing an enemy with a strong defense. Attacking at night will limit their capabilities. Perhaps even inhibit them from using their cannons."
"You cannot hit what you cannot see.", said Dunan, "If we get close enough, it will not matter how powerful they are. Our numbers will drown them."
At last, a sense of hope filled their hearts. Perhaps not all was lost. This could work.
"Very well.", Drannor said, "Spread the word to all soldiers. The tactic remains the same, just that it will be a night raid. And tenth captain?"
"Yes general?", he asked.
"The wyvern corps will not move in. They can't fly well in an organized formation at night."
"Yes, general."
"Lepian."
"Yes my lord?", she asked.
"Take your scouts and prepare for the raid. You will infiltrate their base and cause distortion."
"Yes my lord.". With that, she left and the other officers as well. It was time to prepare. This will be the first battle with the enemy in the empire's own borders. No matter what, they needed to win. Or at the very least, make the enemy bleed.
---
Everything was prepared. The feral auxiliary already started moving forward and the dwarves steadily advanced behind them. The warhogs moved first, behind them were warriors, then shooters, and finally the cannon crew. Dunan was on the right and Bamur on the left, each ready to give orders and lead their legions to battle. As they moved closer they could see the enemy fortification in the distance. It looked just like how the lepian described it. All that was not immediately visible were the cannons. Perhaps they were camouflaged. A tactic used often by the dwarven general of the second Halboram army, Kutmec Coalcloack. He would paint his cannons in the color of the surroundings so the enemy couldn't see them until it was too late. No matter, all they had to do was get close.
"What do you think will happen, commander?", asked a dwarven shooter.
"We will win.", Dunan answered, "We have to. And after this, we will get what we were promised."
The dwarves wouldn't typically choose to fight alongside the elves unless there was something in it for them. Such was their nature. The dwarven kingdoms have good relations with the empire as miners, builders, and blacksmiths. A large portion of elven mines are mostly run by dwarves and with that, the dwarves gain a fifth of the profit. If they dug out five ores of iron, they would get one and if the ore is sold for five pieces of silver, they get one, and so forth. This made the dwarven economy boom as the elves control roughly eighty percent of the Tubal mountains. Now the emperor gave them an offer they could not refuse. If they contributed to the war, they would receive half of the earnings from North Altia, but also half of the earnings from the other side of the rift. The dwarves, due to their lust for riches, could not say no. Of course, king Bylnar of Benullur refused, but the other two kings assumed that when they win the war, Bylnar would see that he was wrong. And if he didn't, the elves would take care of him.
"I hope we do win, commander.", the shooter continued, "I want revenge for what they did to general Dalmin."
"So do I.", Dunan said, "But we must not be-"
Suddenly, explosions came from the front lines. The feral auxiliary started to die out as the ground burst into flames. Orcs, swine, ogres, and trolls were all being destroyed and their scorched bodies were scattered across the field. But there was something strange. The cannons weren't firing. Dunan would have seen them if they did. So how? It's almost as if the ground beneath the ferals exploded on its own as they crossed it. But that shouldn't be possible.
The dwarves were all in shock. "Commander!", shouted the shooter, "What do we do?!"
Dunan was stunned for a moment but spoke, "At this point, I would signal the wyverns. But we left them behind.". Before he could say more, something he never thought would happen, happened. A bright light flew into the air, shining like the sun. Then another and another. The whole sky was filled with them. What kind of magic was this?
"Commander?", a shooter asked.
"All legions, charge!", Dunan shouted, "Quickly, charge! They see us! We must reach them as quickly as possible! Go!". Dunan charged with his warhog. The rest of the cavalry charged with him as well as the infantry and shooters. Now that they can see them, it was only a matter of time before their cannons took aim. They needed to hurry. The hogs ran and ran, behind them the thousands of warriors and shooters. In the distance, he could see cannons and rods pointed upwards as well as the enemy running toward some of them. "Scatter!", he ordered and the dwarves did just that. They knew the power of a cannon and that they couldn't stay clumped together. But they weren't quick enough and the cannons opened fire. The upward-facing rods shot into the air and explosions erupted around the dwarves. Despite them being somewhat scattered they were losing hundreds. The warriors screamed in pain as their arms and legs were scattered over the land, the shooters fired at the enemy, hoping they would cause at least some amount of damage, but fared no better than the warriors. The cannon crew fired as well but were horrified at the sight. Their cannons couldn't reach and were destroyed by the enemies.
Dunan didn't fair much better. His cavalry was almost destroyed and he himself began to realize he would lose. But not before drawing blood, spirits damn him. He had made it to the lines the ferals crossed. He could see craters in the ground and bodies around them. Trolls and ogres were missing legs and heads while orcs and swine were blown to pieces. The ground beneath them did erupt. Dunan knew he would have to be careful, but he couldn't finish his train of thought as the ground beneath his hog exploded and he was tossed on the ground. As he slowly and painfully got on his knees, he removed his helmet and looked around him. None of his soldiers got through, they were all dead or dying. Some retreated, hopefully, they can tell the others. To the left he saw Banur's body, half of it in a pool of blood and the other half gone, he suffered the same fate. Exhausted and frightened, Dunan lay there and prayed. Perhaps the enemy won't see him.
On the left flank, the eighth and ninth captain led their respective cavalry legions. Ten thousand cavalry troops, ready to fulfill their part. As the two captains moved in they could hear the explosions and death on the central front, but there was nothing they could do. Now that the enemy used its magic to create light they needed to hurry. The cavalry charged in two arrowhead formations and had one target, the enemy's left flank. Their mission was to break it and move into the enemy's center so the infantry can take the rift.
The horses ran as fast as they could and could see the enemy's fortification. All that was defending them was a line of silver thorns. The eighth captain rushed in, hoping to jump over, but the thorns were too thick and the horses got stuck. Hundreds of horses got entangled in the thorns and the elves were thrown over. Thousands behind them either trampled themselves or stopped.
"Scatter!", yelled the eighth captain, "You have to get out of here! The enem-". Before he could say more the horses and elves were engulfed in flames. They screamed as they were burned and torn apart.
The ninth captain ran to the eighth and shook him, "Come on! We're still alive! We can reach the enemy on foot!". There was some truth to that. They still had hundreds of soldiers.
"You are right.", he said and drew his sword, "Forward soldiers! We still have a mission!". So he ran towards the enemy fortification alongside the ninth captain and hundreds of soldiers. He had not just hope, but confidence. Confidence that he can still do what he needed to do. Confidence was shattered as the enemy fired upon him. Their boomsticks spat thousands of led arrows at them as if hundreds of thousands of dwarves were in front of them. His elves were dying and dying quickly. They couldn't even get close as they were torn apart and left screaming on the ground. Time seemed to slow down for him. He turned to all sides and swore he could see the arrowheads pierce his soldiers. He could see the blood pouring out of them and the life escaping their bodies. He faced forward just in time to see the arrow coming toward him. It pierced his forehead, and in those few final moments, he thought of his home and how all of this was a mistake.
On the right flank, general Drannor moved with his men. He could hear and see the explosions on the other sides. How could the enemy have known they would come, and worse off how could they possess such magic to create suns in the night sky, was beyond him. He led forty thousand troops in hopes to penetrate the enemy's flank, but it hasn't been going well. They were being slowed down by iron thorns and were forced to use shields to get across. A large part of the army got over them, but then the enemy attacked. Their cannons fired cannon balls that killed dozens of soldiers per hit, blasting them to pieces. Most of the army that was on the outside of the thorns was destroyed and Drannor could only watch the horror unfold before him. After one of the explosions, a soldier was sent flying toward Drannor, knocking him to the ground. At the same time, the enemy fired its boomsticks and tore through his men. First, they killed the ones on the sides and then worked their way in. The survivors gathered near the general and created a layered shield formation, hoping to save him.
When Drannor came to his senses he got up and shouted, "You fools! You have to run! Scatter before they-", but it was too late. The enemy's weapons destroyed their shields and soldiers all around him began to fall, screaming in pain as their hearts, lungs, and heads were pierced by thousands of lead arrows. Drannor just stood there. Miraculously, he wasn't injured. He looked to all sides and saw nothing but carnage. Most of the men that crossed the iron thorns were dead, the ones behind either got blown to pieces or fled.
Drannor just walked. Slowly. He walked towards the enemy as he was taking off his helmet, then his wrist guards, then shoulder pads, and finally his breastplate. He extended his arms and closed his eyes as if he accepted his fate. It was his fault that nearly a hundred thousand people died, so now he was ready to pay the price. As he walked closer to the source of the firing, he noticed it started to die down. He assumed all his men were dead. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw a bright white light in front of him and a shadowy figure walking closer.
'Morto?', he thought, 'Have you come to collect my soul?'. As the figure got closer, he saw a pale-skinned man with a black boomstick and before he could react, the man hit him in the head and Drannor was knocked out cold. With that, it was over.
---
It was finally over. The ferals were all dead and the surrendering and wounded elves and dwarves were brought to Galdush base. This couldn't have been a battle, more of a one-sided slaughter. The enemy walked straight into them. First, the minefield destroyed the ferals and the leftover claymores took care of most of the dwarven cavalry. The entrenched Abrams tanks and mortars cleared the rest. Their cannons fired, but couldn't reach the foxholes.
On the right, the elven cavalry made their way to the barbed wire and misunderstood how it worked, which caused them to fall over and leave the horses trapped. Mortar fire destroyed what was on the outer portion and machine guns cleared the foot soldiers that tried to rush them.
The left side was bloodier. The infantry used their shields to get across the barbed wire, but most weren't quick enough and were killed by the mortars and tanks. The ones that did survive put their shields in layers, but that didn't help them much. After most of them died, the several dozen that still had a brain left and one crazy bastard stripped his armor and walked to the machine guns. Luckily, Logan stopped the firing and knocked the nutjob out.
The army was rounding up the survivors, cuffing them, and sending them to a special prison back in the States. Some struggled, but ultimately couldn't do much. From the scorched field came a group of tribals. They walked slowly in shock at what just happened.
"Hold it!", said one of the army soldiers who pointed his gun at them. The tribals raised their hands.
"Lower your weapons.", said Chief, "That's not how you treat your allies."
From behind Chief came Zoya, "Mina. Are you alright?"
"Yes.", spoke the lepian, "I'm just in shock. When you said they were powerful I never imagined this."
"I know. I can hardly believe it myself. Let me introduce you to someone.", she said as she gestured to Chief, "This is Julius Fisher, the chief of the humans' elite warriors."
"A pleasure to meet you, Mina. You helped us out a lot.", Chief said as he extended his hand. After a slight hesitation, Mina shook it.
"You!", yelled an elf as he was pushed, "You traitor! When the others find out about this, they will have the heads of your families, and then-", his bantering was stopped by a kick to the stomach delivered by Zoya which knocked him several feet back.
"Shut up.", she said.
"Is it really true?", Mina asked, "Will you really save my people?"
"Yes.", Chief said, "In time, we will free all of you."
This made Mina smile, "Then, we will fight alongside you.". She turned around and waved her hand several times. Far away in the tall grass, Chief could see people rise and walk towards them. A battalion-sized force of tribals. Lepians, feelians, leanoids, and welfen all walked towards the base. A lot of the soldiers stopped what they were doing and stared at them. The elves and dwarves felt nothing but disgust.
Chief chuckled and so did Pretty Boy next to him, "We're gonna need more uniforms."
End of chapter 6
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There is some black magic that I just cannot wrap my head around with this mechanic. The description for it is the following "Villagers construct defenses +50% faster and all other buildings +100% faster.", but the numbers do not seem to reflect this at all?
So my first issue is, what the hell constitutes as "defenses"? Every building in the game has descriptions, like "Religious Building", "Economy Building" or "Military Building". Palisades, Outposts, Stonewalls and Keeps share the same tag of "Defensive Building", but they ALL have different buildrates. Another fuckery detail is that all of these buildings have "custom" chinese building times that deviate from the norm, like Keep's description saying it supposedly takes 240 seconds instead of 180 seconds for every other civilization.
So let us talk about Keeps. The Chinese ones suppousedly take 240 seconds to build instead of the normal 180, yet it actually takes 120 seconds which is twice as quick as the chinese build time, and 50% quicker than the regular 180 seconds. So depending on how it works with other units, it could go either way?
Then we have Stone walls that are built in 10.6 seconds, so 50% faster than the 16 seconds of normal walls and 100% faster than the 21 seconds it takes for the chinese stone walls. So the trend seems to be 50% faster, but why on earth do they have custom building times at all?
Then we hit the first problem with Outposts. If we consider it a "defense", it should be 50% quicker than the regular buildtime of 60, or 100% of the chinese build time of 80 seconds. But instead, you actually build it in 30 seconds. Now that just sounds like, oh, it isn't a "defense" so you can build it twice as quick at 100% instead of 50%. But, then I ask you, why is the chinese build time 80 seconds? The math fails here entirely, as 30 seconds is neither 50% or 100% of 80. Again, why is this custom build time in the game? And then we have palisades. Palisades for other civilizations besides Rus take 4 seconds to build. Somehow it takes LONGER for the chinese to build it, at 5 seconds. Their custom build time is 10 seconds, so they are building twice as quick as that, but I have no idea what the hell the math is here. I have no idea what is going on anymore. What the hell is this?
Oh and, landmarks, even the defensive ones build 100% faster. I have no idea anymore.
Why don't the buildings have the baked-in build time for chinese, instead of a weirdly increased custom buildtime that needs to take into account how quickly you build (which doesn't even work)?
So my question for you reddit brainiacs--what is the logic they are using for this mechanic? Am I missing something here? Please help me out.

Other stories by TheMaskedOne2807:The Oil Chapter 1 (Getting Back)
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The black gunky liquid was streaming from the bag, both pieces of it.
Much of it had gotten on the Aki clad in golden armor's sword. The attacker had jumped back while Kenneth was recovering.
The attacked in gold seemed to study their sword for a moment before they jumped back into action.
Kenneth didn’t even have time to blink before the blade was once more centimeters away from his neck, the same exact stop the blade had hit before.
It was swung with such speed and with no protection to slow it down like before the force knocked Kenneth flat on his ass.
“Vile creature, I’ll take your head!” The Aki in gold armor yelled, ready to swing.
“Please stop!” Kica yelled, taking a giant step forward and putting her arm in the path the sword swung.
At a moment's notice, the blade stopped cutting through her rope and nicking her arm.
“Noble and just sir, knight of high birth, I beg you not to kill this healer; he’s taken the oath and is one of us,” Kica pleaded, looking the knight in the eyes as they pulled away the blade.
The knight then lowered the blade and let one hand be free as the tip of the sword touched the ground.
“Thank you, noble sir knight,” Kica said as she lowered her arm and breath a sigh of relief.
Suddenly and without warning, the knight slapped Kica violently with their armored hand. The force was enough to draw blood as she fell to the ground, eyes wide in shock.
The knight just stared down at her with cold, uncaring eyes before speaking in a calm yet disgusted tone of voice. “Learn your place, woman, and only speak when spoken to.”
By this point, Kenneth had managed to get back on his feet, but he was disorientated and in a lot of pain. He wasn’t quite sure why he was still alive with how many strikes with a sword he had received, but he guessed it had to be the plague doctor outfit.
‘It might protect me from getting cut, but I still feel the force of it. If they keep hitting my neck, it will at some point break,’ Kenneth thought, unsure of what he could and should do.
The golden-armored Aki then stretched out their arm, pointing their gold sword at Kenneth before speaking. “I do not know what you are or what lies you made that vixen believe, but I’ll take your head nevertheless.”
Before Kenneth even had time to do anything, the golden-armored Aki moved faster than lightning and swung his sword once more.
The speed at which it was swung was faster than the other two times combined. The force was unparalleled as it once more hit Kenneth’s neck, finally breaking.
There was a moment of silence once it had happened, where everyone who was present just stood in shock.
However, it wasn’t Kenneth’s neck that had broken. It was the golden-armored Aki’s golden sword.
Somehow the sword had broken in two just below the guard, and now the broken-off part stuck to the disoriented Kenneth, who, somehow still standing.
“What is this!” The golden-armored Aki yelled in anger.
“Well, you don’t see that every day,” the other Aki clad in silver armor that had walked beside the gold-armored Aki said.
“Wasn’t that your family's priced golden sword your great, great, great grandfather used in that great battle,” the silver-armored Aki said, scratching the top of his head, trying to remember what battle it was.
“It would be a shame to come home with it broken. I wonder what your farter would say?”
“Shut up, old man!” The gold-armored Aki snapped. “The blade is still intact. That vile creature just got lucky the hilt broke!”
The gold-armored Aki then looked at the still-disoriented Kenneth and opened up his hand.
At the end of his gauntlets, there were small holes for his claws to extend out. “I’ll get it back as well as his head.”
“Not so fast young master,” the silver-armored Aki said, pulling the gold-armored one back. “The hilt may have broken, but that thing is still standing after three swings with its head still firmly between its shoulders.”
“You point!” The gold-armored Aki snapped, pulling away from the silver-armored one’s grasp.
“You might be fast, but you lack experience, both in fighting and gauging your opponent,” the silver-armored Aki said, drawing his silver sword. “Watch closely; you might learn a thing or two.”
The silver-armored Aki started to approach Kenneth slowly, his sword raised in only one hand.
Kenneth, still in pain and woozy, started to walk back, almost tripping each and every time he took a step as the gold sword still stuck to him like the black gunky stuff was super glue.
He tried to pull it off him. He thought he might be able to use it as a shield, but it wouldn’t budge. If he wanted it off, it meant ripping a piece of the coat off or taking it off, and neither seemed like an attractive option at the moment.
Unfortunately, while he tried to get the sword off, he lost his footing and fell on his ass again.
“I expected a bit more of a fight, but the young master swings too hard, I suppose,” the silver-armored Aki sighed as he raised his silver sword above his head, ready to strike Kenneth.
Kenneth raised his arms, trying to defend against the strike.
However, it didn’t come. Kenneth moved one of his arms a little, so he could see, and he was shocked once he saw who had saved him.
“Women release my arm from you, grip,” the silver-armored Aki ordered Zilika calmly.
It was only now Kenneth noticed Kica was gone, probably having been pulled into their house by Zilika.
“As the healer said, he’s one of us,” Zilika responded with a pained expression. “He took the oath just as everyone else here did, and I doubt very much the commander is going to be happy about you killing one of his men.”
“So this thing took the oath,” the silver-armored Aki muttered. “I see how its resilience would make a good shield, but it’s too cowardly.”
“So will you let go of my arm now?” the silver-armored Aki, his voice cold
“Are you going to attack him?” Zilika asked back, slightly cold yet with a hint of nervousness.
The silver-armored Aki then let go of his sword and, with his free hand, reached behind his back and grabbed the hilt of it before it touched the ground.
Then he a little awkwardly placed the sword back into the scabbard.
Once it was done, Zilika let go of his arm.
“You are listening to the words of a vixen!” The gold-armored Aki protested in anger.
The silver-armored only looked back and with a sly smile. “Young master, if you want a woman to like you, you have to listen to them once in a while. And I do prefer ones with a little fire in them.”
The gold-armored Aki just growled as he looked at Kenneth with predatory eyes.
Before he knew the gold-armored Aki rushed at him with his claws extended.
Zilika took a step forward but was forced to stop as the silver-armored Aki drew his sword once more and held it up against her throat.
“Sorry, but I am paid to keep the young master safe, so don’t do something stupid now. I really don’t feel like killing you,” the silver-armored Aki said charmingly.
In the meantime, the gold-armored Aki quickly reached Kenneth swiping at him with his claws.
His outfit protected him, but he was beginning to feel weak.
“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!” Ulric bellowed in anger.
The loud sound was hard to miss as everyone stopped what they were doing and looked back at him.
Beside Ulric stood a slightly smaller Aki with purple fur and a few spots of yellow.
However, it was hard to see since they were covered in long, loose, fitting slike-like clothing, mostly the color yellow.
“So you are the commander,” the gold-armored Aki said casually as he turned around.
“Explain to me why that vixen lied and told me that thing is a part of this outpost,” the gold-armored Aki said mildly angrily.
Ulric glanced over at Zilika, who was still being threatened by the silver-armored Aki.
“Lower your sword,” Ulric said in a low rumbling voice.
“Just as long she’s not stupid,” the silver-armored Aki said before putting his sword back in the scabbard.
“I said something to you!” The gold-armored Aki said in annoyance, looking up at Ulric.
“Zilika, explain what happened,” Ulric commanded, looking slightly at her.
“The black healer was talking to Kica and, out of nowhere, was attacked by the knight. Kica tried to stop the fight, but he struck her for speaking. After that, I got Kica back into our house and didn’t see much more after that,” Zilika explained.
Ulric then fully lowered his gaze and looked down at the gold-armored Aki. “You struck my healer?”
“Yeah, what of it,” the gold-armored Aki said dismissively. “I don’t know what it is with these outposts, but your women should learn their place.”
“Also, I want that thing punished for intentionally breaking my family’s sword.”
Ulric just looked at him, his eyes daggers as he tightened his grip around his spear.
“Do you know who I am?!” the gold-armored Aki snapped in anger, not liking the way Ulric was looking at him.
“If you tell me another lie, a brat, I need to punish,” Ulric answered in a low yet angry voice.
“I am Jubo Dekaso Amotika the twentyfirst!” Jubo yelled in anger. “And you better remember it, you lowborn--”
“Young master, I would strongly recommend you chose your words with a bit more thought,” the silver-armored Aki interjected.
Jubo glanced back at him for a moment before saying something under his breath no one heard.
He walked over to Kenneth, looking angry, and Kenneth was sure he was going to attack him once more; however, he just stood there.
“Let it go, and I’ll forgive you for breaking it,” Jubo said, his eyes only on the sword still stuck to Kenneth.
‘I broke it!’ Kenneth thought in anger, his eye twitching. ‘You swung the damn thing at me three times!’
Kenneth thought all of it instead of saying it because he noticed the Aki standing beside Ulric was dressed very differently than all others in the outpost.
He wasn’t sure if it was the fashion where they were from, but if it was the merchant, then he wouldn’t want to present himself in any negative way. No matter how justified he would be in doing so.
“What the hold-up, you slow-minded dimwit,” Jubo impatiently said.
“Well, I would give it to you if I could, but it would appear that the blade is stuck on me somehow,” Kenneth answered, doing his utmost to hide his annoyance.
“Stuck,” Jubo scoffed. “All you need to do is pull hard enough, and you can’t even do that.”
Then without warning, Jubo grabbed the sword and started to pull.
However, the black gunky substance wouldn’t let go.
Then as Kenneth just stood there unprepared, Jubo placed his foot on Kenneth's stomach and started pushing with it.
It was annoying and somewhat painful, but Kenneth bore over with it until it came loose. Or a piece of it.
Jubo saved himself from landing on his ass, but he probably would have cared as his eyes fixated on the one-third of the sword that had broken off.
It was so silent you could drop a pin which made it all the more easier for Kenneth to hear a cracking sound.
Before Jubo even had a chance to yell about the blade breaking it two, the rest still on Kenneth broke into two, split right down the middle. Then four, getting cut in half again.
“What did you do?!” Jubo yelled in dismay.
“I have no idea what just happened,” Kenneth said, equally confused.
“You- I’m going to kill you!” Jubo screamed.
He was about to charge at Kenneth but was stopped by the silver-armored Aki. “Young master, I would not advise doing so.”
“It destroyed my family’s sword!” Jubo wined in anger.
“Yes, but if you couldn’t harm it with the sword, then what good are your claws and speed then?” The silver-armored Aki asked, almost like he was a teacher of sorts.
And as Kenneth watched the silver-armored Aki stand beside Jubo, something particular about Jubo became all too clear. He was short.
Even shorter than Kica but a little taller than the fourteen-year-old Aki, that had hit him with water.
Begrudgingly, Jubo retracted his claws and walked over to Kenneth again, reaching for the rest of the sword pieces.
It was an uncomfortable process, but eventually, he managed to get the rest of the pieces off some of the black gunky liquid sticking to the pieces and his gauntlets.
“Where is the blacksmith?” Jubo asked in a manner that sounded more like a command to tell him where Huto was.
“Zilika, take him to Huto and Iko,” Ulric commanded.
Zilika didn’t look all too happy but wasn’t one to disobey another one of Ulric’s orders.
Once they left, the three men just stood there, silent, no one speaking.
“Well, that situation could have gone….”
“Differently,” Kenneth said, scratching the back of his head.
“What is the black stuff? Your blood?” Ulric asked, his voice low and calm as he rubbed his temple.
Before Kenneth even had a chance to say he didn’t know what the black stuff was, the merchant spoke.
“Well, Ulric, I suppose this is the man you told me about. An odd fella, neither Aki, Nok, or Sil from a place much different.”
Solk walked closer to Kenneth, eyeing him up with great fascination and slight worry before making the gesture of greeting.
“I hope you do not bare a grudge against me for the actions of the highborn lad,” Solk apologized. “He’s young and thought that defending my wares would lead to a battle or two. I guess he was so annoyed not having fought anyone that when he saw you, he just struck.”
“Well, you are not responsible for the actions of other people,” Kenneth said, reciprocating the gesture.
“You seem very humble odd fella,” Solk said with a friendly smile. “I know many who would have boiled with anger over an unprovoked attack.”
“Well, it’s not as if his sword breaking and his subsequent shock didn’t ease my anger a little,” Kenneth responded.
“Just as a bit of friendly advice before we start to talk about business,” Solk said as he started to walk down the street and gestured for Kenneth to follow.
“Making an enemy of a high-born royal is always a bad idea in business.”
“I surmised as much,” Kenneth responded, just about to follow, but before he did, his eyes glanced down and saw his bag in one piece; he was unsure how or why it was suddenly healed, but questions he had no way of getting answers to had to wait he needed to keep up with Solk and Ulric.
So he grabbed the bag and followed along.
---
(Patreon): Three chapters early access and artwork. Also, a 100+ page story I wrote prior to the posting of The Plague Doctor for all members.

author's note
that latest chapter of wings of change is here at last! my deepest apologies everyone I just got a extended case of procrastination.
this is a separate universe from the originally hunter or huntress story; it's not a cannon story and it never while be because events in the original story will change with this story. i do advise you guys read the original story. it's good and you would enjoy it.
original story: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/jfgpie/hunter_or_huntress_chapter_1_the_offer_oc/
(////)
Zasta watched in fascination as Raphael moved with the economic grace that matched the best Tonselra champions. Maybe even rival the best infantry in the royal guard. Moving between and around trees using them as cover, and engaging targets faster than any archer. The way someone trained reflected how they would fight in a war, and what she was learning from her observations would write a book.
The way they fight is so movement oriented and precise but it's too focused on the ground. They would have trouble facing off against airborne enemies. Granted, they can’t fly either so it would make sense that they'll be ground oriented, but it would work great for clearing a keep. With that said though, there’s their enchanted kite. It was so fast the last time we saw it fly but, it turned like a dragon. With that said, we only saw it casually intercept us so the gods only know how nimble it really is. I wonder if it has weapons on it and if so how they would defend against such a thing?
“Unload and show clear. 4 seconds, Damn Raphael, I thought you green berets could run faster than that?” Zasta watched Jasper say in a tone that she recognized as playful.
“Oh, by all means take your turn and let’s see how fast you can waddle around you rusty ass seal.” Rapheal said with mirth, taking the weird enchanted buzzing thing as they walked back to the start of the shoot course. “Shooter Ready! Standby!”
BEEP!
He had to engage four targets at a staggered distance from 25 to 75 meters with eight meters between the targets. target one and four wear at the same distance of 25 meters away from the shooter with target two at 50 meters, and target three at 75 meters. Jasper sprinted 100 meters to a tree that marked the first position. He took a knee on the right side of the tree, aiming at the targets scattered amongst the trees. Starting by shooting at target number four, he switched to target one then back to target four repeating the process with target two and target three firing two bolts at every target. Then sprint back to the start and repeat the process. At first she thought it ridiculous that they would try to hit a target so far out of accurate bow and crossbow range until they not only hit said targets, but hit them with boring regularity.
BEEP!
“3:579 seconds. For a rusty ass seal you waddle pretty good.” Raphael said with a chuckle.
“Hay, for a rusty ass seal, I can still waddle faster than you.” Zasta wished she knew more English so she could understand their friendly banter. Her attention returned to the course, and the white targets intersperse around the trees.
I wonder how quickly I could do the course. Sprinting it like the humans would be a pain, but I could easily do it much faster than them from the air. (Oh, right…) Zasta winced when she realized just how her precious few arrows would fare against those steel targets.
I wonder if they could teach me? Zasta thought before getting up and approached the two humans. They were starting to pick up the brass that was flung out of the limb-less crossbow.
“Jasker, Rahael, me learn?” They look at her for a moment before turning back to each other. I wish their language wasn't so hard to pronounce.
“I don’t see why not, It's one more hand to run a gun if any of us go down.” Though she only understood a few of Jasper's words, his tone made it sound like he’s not opposed to her request.
She saw Raphael shrug his shoulders at Jasper before picking up another brass casing, staring at it in thought. He looked back at her and nodded. (Yes. Learn enchanted crossbow.)
(Yes!) Zasta jumped up fist pumping the air while positively beaming with excitement. She knew it was very un-noble of her but she really didn't care. She was now one step closer to her new goal.
She saw Raphael smile with amusement and chuckled as he went back to collecting the brass. “Okay Ms. Happy scales” (hep… heel… help us.)
Zasta heard his humorous tone just stall with the draconic in his throat. she clamped down on her snout, her laughter barely held in with her body compensating by moving with her diaphragm when she saw the look on his face. However, what her laughter lacked in volume it more than made up for in full body tremors and a full joyful smile.
Once she got her laughter under control, she helped to collect the brass. The task proved to be trivial because of the burnt acrid smell emanating out of the open end. All it took was to follow her nose.
Though doing this mindless task gave her mind some time to wonder. The human’s capability of learning our language has turned out to be quite the mixed bag. Nick was by far the best. Taking to it like a fire to kindling, with everyone else it's like waiting for laundry to dry.
She collected the last piece of brass around her and looked at Raphael and Jasper. They were walking to a folding table that held the metal box the brass bolts were stored in. She followed them back to the table. Granted, this English isn't the easiest to learn either.
When Zasta reached them, Jasper was putting the brass in a large clear bag. She poured the smelly metal inside the bag with a hollow metallic clatter but, before she could ask anything about yet another mysterious item. She heard an all too familiar mechanical noise that brought her attention back to Raphael, and the limbless crossbow he held.
(Zasta… )“rifle.” Raphael said, holding up the rifle without the spring-loaded box that held the bolts.
Looks like a language lesson about the parts of this weapon is in order. Much like with Jasper’s ballista. Zasta thought as she looked at the tan weapon. Despite seeing these rifles every day this was the first time getting a good proper inspection of it.
She noted that it wasn't truly tan but tinted towards more of a copper tan, with two spy glasses mounted on the top with one cammed off to the side. The weapon was the very definition of control chaos with different enchanted items placed on the weapon. It looked cluttered at first glance but from watching the humans shoot and maneuver with it everything on the rifle was placed with care. She looked at the stock, and unlike a crossbow, it was a two piece stock with a fixed upper part and… her unspoken suspicion about the lower part was proven correct when Raphael freely slid the lower part of the stock back and forth.
“Retractable stock”... It took a few minutes of show and tell going over every part of the rifle and what it does. Followed by Zasta repeating everything shown to her, from parts of the rifle to the different shooting positions. With a smile and nod of satisfaction Raphael handed her the rifle.
With her newly required rifle in hand They went to adjust the stock to her arm length. Holding the grip in her (shooting hand), or draw hand, they moved the stock back until it made contact with her elbow.
(Okay, shoulder “rifle aim” down range.)
Zasta did just that, She was intrigued that even though it was made out of metal and some strange material she had never seen before the rifle felt no heavier and better balanced than a windlass crossbow. What mesmerized her was the spyglass that had a chevron within a circle that was cut away on the bottom, both the chevron and the circle glowed red. It also had several black lines on the bottom. It was an enchanted spyglass and she wondered just how many more bloody enchanted items does this rifle have? "Hmm, you close."
Zasta saw and felt Raphael move the stock into a different position on her shoulder. "Shoulder pocket, not hurt shoulder bone you fire."
Zasta blinked at that little tidbit of information. Hurt? What does he mean hurt?
"Release right hand, pull left hand. Finger Off (The Goddamn Trigger!) Zasta flinched at Raphael's sudden and commanding order. She instantly moved her finger off the trigger. She dryly swallowed and shrunk a little from the weathering glare of a now aggravated veteran soldier that had no time to deal with her stupidity.
The following coughing fit took a bit of the edge off of his voice and she winced remembering that speaking draconic could be taxing for the humans. Keeping her focus on the spyglass and away from his glare, she heard him taking a deep draft of water.
"(Okay) Zasta look at me." Raphael said, easing back into a firm tone. Zasta watched him as he talked and demonstrated with his rifle. "Left hand pull in, breath in out, pull (trigger)."
Click
Good to see that the breathing part of shooting is no different from archery. Only so many ways to shoot accurately I guess. Zasta thought as she heard the click. She looked at how she was holding the rifle and remembered the mandatory crossbow training everyone at the outpost was forced to take. To her recollection her performance was "passable", much to her chagrin and detriment to her pride as an archer. Though she happily preferred the bow over the crossbow any day. Well, I have to hope that I can aim better with this rifle than the crossbow.
For a moment she wondered if Eragon would be a better choice for this. She remembered him doing better than everyone with the crossbow. Now that she thought about it, He would most definitely be a better choice for this, but she'll never admit it. "(Your turn Zasta). Finger on trigger and fire."
She did as instructed and looked back down the spyglass. Lining up the point of the chevron with one of the white painted steel targets. She moved her finger onto the trigger and pulled at the end of her exhale… then pulled again and again this time a little harder. No matter what she did there was no click. That was when she heard Raphael snort in amusement, causing her to look at him in irritation.
“Safety (Zasta…)” Raphael pulled on the charging handle above the stock and behind spyglass before rapidly flicking the lever on the side of the rifle. "safety."
(Fuuuuck you Rakeal.) Zasta huffed in an amused but irritated tone shaking her head before looking back down the spyglass to avoid looking at his damn goofy smile. she flipped the safety off with her thumb. She began the process once more of aiming and pulled the trigger at the end of her breath….
Click
Her eyes widened after pulling the trigger. It was so, so much lighter than a crossbow trigger. She mimicked Raphael's earlier action of pulling the charging handle fully to the rear and pulled the trigger again. She giggled with disbelief at such a fine trigger before turning to Raphael with a full toothy smile. To her amusement, he shudders for the slightest moment at her predatory expression. He smiled back at her and nodded.
“(Good, use spyglass) magnifier." Raphael said, flipping the magnifier on his rifle from the side to behind the spyglass and back over again. Zasta looked down at the magnifier attached to her rifle. Trying it for herself, being caught by surprise about the amount of force that was needed to move it. Applying more force She was not prepared for when halfway over the magnifier snapped out of her hand right into position behind the spyglass.
Wait, the fuck? Why did it just do that? Zasta questioned, moving the magnifier back over, finding the same amount of force was needed to move it. Once more, halfway the magnifier snapped over. She gave it a head tilt and repeated the action a few more times with the same result. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Raphael silently chuckling with a smirk. Okay… Interesting but why? Why does it need such a mechanism that’s so difficult to move?
Setting that question aside for now, Zasta moves the magnifier back into position behind the spyglass and shoulders the rifle. Hmm… that's cool, why have a separate spyglass that's magnified? Wouldn't it be easier to have it just be magnified all the time?
“(Good) rifle sling." Raphael said, as they moved on to the next part. To Zasta's amusement, the most versatile and useful part of the rifle was the simplest part, its sling. Not only was it used to carry the rifle on the person wearing it, but it also served as a shooting aid when wrapped around her arm. It was like tensioning a rope off of an anchor to prevent something from moving. However, now was the moment of truth. It was time to fire the human rifle.
Her target was 50 meters away, which was a little far in Zasta’s opinion. If she was going to train someone on the archery range she would have had the target much closer. I wonder if this is close range for them; If that's the case I wonder what would be the maximum effective range?
"Ready!" Zasta heard Jasper say beside her, adopting the same stern instructional tone as Raphael, while her previous instructor had to leave to watch over the kids. Not like she minded being left with Jasper, she liked the man. Right now though…he had the cold inflection of an instructor who has no time for your or anyone else's bullshit. So she diligently inserted the metal box into the bottom of the rifle until she heard the click of the mag locking in. Then pulled the charging handle to load a bolt into the bolt rail.
"Aim!" Zasta shouldered the rifle the way Raphael had taught her. Looking down the spyglass with the magnifier to the side she placed the tip of the red chevron onto the center of the target.
(One round standing, Fire.) Zasta flipped the rifle off safe and pulled the trigger at the bottom of her breath.
BANG-DING!
It felt like someone had angrily shoved her shoulder. It was certainly surprising and had she not pulled the rifle into her shoulder otherwise that shove would have been a punch. She looked at the new gray dot in the center mass where the bolt hit the target. By the gods that was awesome. But I could do without the smelly odor and this weird sickly sweet taste in the back of my throat.
“(three rounds kneeling.)” Jasper barked out. She took a knee moving her left wing under her elbow, and her tail laying on the ground to provide a third point of contact. Her resulting stance was as steady as the heaven oak trees around them.
BANG-DING!
This time the bolt hit the target in the head. “Lean forward Zasta.”
She felt him push her forward just a little bit. (two left, fire.)
BANG-DING BANG-DING!
These two bolts hit the center again and she smiled at the swinging target.
(three bolts) prone.” Jasper barked out again, but she could hear the smile in his tone. She laid down, and moved her wings to where the hand guard rested on her wing claws adding more stability into the position. Looking through the spyglass she found that the rifle was not moving. Despite the position being extremely stable, she didn’t like the feeling of being vulnerable with her back exposed.
BANG-DING BANG-DING BANG-DING!!
“Unload and Clear.” Zasta pushed the button to drop the box and locked the rifle open. She inserted the ejected bolt back into the metal box then stood up. She had a beaming smile on her face.
(////)
Jasper smiled back at Zasta. Despite only shooting at a 50 meter target she had done a great job despite the language barrier we were working with. He could think of a few humans who were native speakers who couldn't even manage that much.
“You like?” Jasper asked, walking back to collect the brass she had shot. It was too bad they only taught her the bare bones basics and not the dynamic shooting like what he and Raphael were doing earlier. It was getting about the time they’d need to start cleaning the guns and packing up the range for the day.
(Gods yes, I love shooting your “ricle” so much easier to shoot!) Zasta exclaimed with the widest smile on her face he had seen so far. The smile remained even as she started to help him collect the rest of the brass.
Despite only understanding about half of what she said, he could understand that she was ecstatic. Keeping the rifle slung to her chest like a kid who has a toy they never wanted to let go of. When the brass had been picked and deposited onto the table, she looked him in the eyes.
(Jasker, I shot big wood “ricle”, please?) Zasta asked with a pair of the biggest puppy dog eyes he had ever seen.
Oh, by God, now that's not fair. Jasper never thought himself vulnerable to the puppy dog eyes, but damn it she was too adorable. He brought a hand to his face and closed his eyes while he pinched the bridge of his nose, failing to hide the grin of amusement at the sheer absurdity of the situation of a grown ass woman giving him the mother of all puppy dog eyes. Oh, just how in the hell was he supposed to say no to that!
"Fine… Fine" He chuckled as he spoke. (Yes, yes you shoot big wood) rifle." Jasper stifled a laugh at her little shrill of joy. Looking for all the world like a girl who was asked out on a date with the boy she was crushing on. (Clean after.)
Zasta nodded and Jasper looked down at his rifle before adding. “(lay) rifle(on table).”
Zasta almost reluctantly unslung the rifle and laid it on the table. Jasper meanwhile, picked up his sharps rifle. “(Remember wood) rifle (work?)”
(Yes, Jasker I remember.) Zasta answered with a nod.
"Alright, here you go." Jasper said, passing over his rifle apprehensively. He really hoped she would handle it with care. It was the last gift from a lot of people he'd never see again. He took a deep breath and swallowed down his worry, it was only going to be just for one time and he knew she was more than strong enough to hold onto the rifle under recoil.
(Holy shit that's heavy!) Despite only understanding one word of that exclamation, Jasper smiled in amusement. Even though the rifle was in fact quite heavy; However, the local gravity took much of the weight away. About 58 percent of its weight was actually felt according to Wilson. Granted the dude used a 100 gram weight standard and a very accurate electric power scale and some mathematical formula he managed to pull out of his ass to get that, but the man was way smarter than Jasper so who was he to complain.
Besides, with the new constant of 5.7M/S² he has the ability to do the ballistic math for the .50 and the 45-120 Sharps. Unsurprisingly the math has shown the rounds were now much flatter shooting despite their subpar ballistic coefficient. He would have loved to see what the higher BC rounds like .416 Barrett, 6.5 Creedmoor, or 7mm Mauser would have done here. Hmm, I'll have to play with the .50 tomorrow to make sure the ballistic math is right. Maybe let Zasta shoot the .50, Eragon and Daena would be jealous.
(Okay, half cock, lower lever, check for clear.) Jasper heard her mutter to herself as she walked through the motions. Satisfied the rifle was clear, he rewarded her with a satisfied smirk and nod.
(One round) Jasper said, handing her a round of the long 45-120 sharps. Zasta took a breath in to ready herself and looked down the range at the 150 meter target. She inserted the round onto the chamber lifting the breach into place.
Jasper didn't know much about archery, that was Rapheal's thing, but to him this looked like it might be the furthest she has ever shot before. She wrapped her forearm around the sling and shouldered the rifle, then she moved her wings around her resting the long barrel on the v her wings made providing more stability before moving the hammer to full cock. Jasper could see her tail on the ground giving her a sort of tripod stance. He moved a hand to hover right behind her shoulder to catch her if the recoil decided to take her for a ride.
BANG! Ding.
Zasta's shoulder jerked back sharply when the venerable rifle roared and after the report rolled away the all too familiar satisfying ding ring out. Zasta took a slow breath, ejected the cartridge and slowly laid the rifle onto the table. She turned to him and he could tell she was positively vibrating with excitement while wearing the biggest and widest smile he had ever seen on a dragonette so far.
(Gods, oh gods! That. Was. Awesome!) Jasper smiled at her excitement and he chuckled when she started massaging her shoulder. (But. Fucking Hell… that fucking hurt. It was like an angry smith decided to punch me in the shoulder.)
Jasper saw her looking at him expecting a response. He just shrugged with a goofy ‘i don't know’ smile. Zasta visibly deflated and slapped her forehead when she realized that he hadn't understood what she just said. Jasper laughed at her misfortune which she joined and laughed along with him.
Jasper heard wing beats followed by someone hitting the ground sprinting. He heard Daena's musical voice call out to Zasta in a tone of panic and pain that sent an ice cold shiver down his spine. The woman let the draconic fly so fast between her gasping breath that he didn't have a snowball's chance in hell to catch a single word of it. Deana approached Zasta, her eyes bloodshot blue and tears running down her cheek
Jasper became concerned when Zasta’s eyes widened as she became as white as her chest plate while Deana’s jaw trembled and fresh tears rolled down her cheek. Which was when he finally noticed someone was missing. Taking a deep breath, she turned to him and he could see the determination burning in her eyes. She spoke in a clear slow voice saying the dreaded code word for when the convoy was under attack. “Jasker. Dark. Night.”
Jasper spoke the magic word that would set any soldier's teeth on edge. "Shit!"
(////)
first: https://www.reddit.com/Hunter_or_Huntress/comments/vbmt57/hunter_or_huntress_wings_of_change/
last: https://www.reddit.com/Hunter_or_Huntress/comments/yss99e/hoh_wings_of_change_6_rezeroing_for_the_future/
next:

author's note
that latest chapter of wings of change is here at last! my deepest apologies everyone I just got a extended case of procrastination.
this is a separate universe from the originally hunter or huntress story; it's not a cannon story and it never while be because events in the original story will change with this story. i do advise you guys read the original story. it's good and you would enjoy it.
original story: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/jfgpie/hunter_or_huntress_chapter_1_the_offer_oc/
(////)
Zasta watched in fascination as Raphael moved with the economic grace that matched the best Tonselra champions. Maybe even rival the best infantry in the royal guard. Moving between and around trees using them as cover, and engaging targets faster than any archer. The way someone trained reflected how they would fight in a war, and what she was learning from her observations would write a book.
The way they fight is so movement oriented and precise but it's too focused on the ground. They would have trouble facing off against airborne enemies. Granted, they can’t fly either so it would make sense that they'll be ground oriented, but it would work great for clearing a keep. With that said though, there’s their enchanted kite. It was so fast the last time we saw it fly but, it turned like a dragon. With that said, we only saw it casually intercept us so the gods only know how nimble it really is. I wonder if it has weapons on it and if so how they would defend against such a thing?
“Unload and show clear. 4 seconds, Damn Raphael, I thought you green berets could run faster than that?” Zasta watched Jasper say in a tone that she recognized as playful.
“Oh, by all means take your turn and let’s see how fast you can waddle around you rusty ass seal.” Rapheal said with mirth, taking the weird enchanted buzzing thing as they walked back to the start of the shoot course. “Shooter Ready! Standby!”
BEEP!
He had to engage four targets at a staggered distance from 25 to 75 meters with eight meters between the targets. target one and four wear at the same distance of 25 meters away from the shooter with target two at 50 meters, and target three at 75 meters. Jasper sprinted 100 meters to a tree that marked the first position. He took a knee on the right side of the tree, aiming at the targets scattered amongst the trees. Starting by shooting at target number four, he switched to target one then back to target four repeating the process with target two and target three firing two bolts at every target. Then sprint back to the start and repeat the process. At first she thought it ridiculous that they would try to hit a target so far out of accurate bow and crossbow range until they not only hit said targets, but hit them with boring regularity.
BEEP!
“3:579 seconds. For a rusty ass seal you waddle pretty good.” Raphael said with a chuckle.
“Hay, for a rusty ass seal, I can still waddle faster than you.” Zasta wished she knew more English so she could understand their friendly banter. Her attention returned to the course, and the white targets intersperse around the trees.
I wonder how quickly I could do the course. Sprinting it like the humans would be a pain, but I could easily do it much faster than them from the air. (Oh, right…) Zasta winced when she realized just how her precious few arrows would fare against those steel targets.
I wonder if they could teach me? Zasta thought before getting up and approached the two humans. They were starting to pick up the brass that was flung out of the limb-less crossbow.
“Jasker, Rahael, me learn?” They look at her for a moment before turning back to each other. I wish their language wasn't so hard to pronounce.
“I don’t see why not, It's one more hand to run a gun if any of us go down.” Though she only understood a few of Jasper's words, his tone made it sound like he’s not opposed to her request.
She saw Raphael shrug his shoulders at Jasper before picking up another brass casing, staring at it in thought. He looked back at her and nodded. (Yes. Learn enchanted crossbow.)
(Yes!) Zasta jumped up fist pumping the air while positively beaming with excitement. She knew it was very un-noble of her but she really didn't care. She was now one step closer to her new goal.
She saw Raphael smile with amusement and chuckled as he went back to collecting the brass. “Okay Ms. Happy scales” (hep… heel… help us.)
Zasta heard his humorous tone just stall with the draconic in his throat. she clamped down on her snout, her laughter barely held in with her body compensating by moving with her diaphragm when she saw the look on his face. However, what her laughter lacked in volume it more than made up for in full body tremors and a full joyful smile.
Once she got her laughter under control, she helped to collect the brass. The task proved to be trivial because of the burnt acrid smell emanating out of the open end. All it took was to follow her nose.
Though doing this mindless task gave her mind some time to wonder. The human’s capability of learning our language has turned out to be quite the mixed bag. Nick was by far the best. Taking to it like a fire to kindling, with everyone else it's like waiting for laundry to dry.
She collected the last piece of brass around her and looked at Raphael and Jasper. They were walking to a folding table that held the metal box the brass bolts were stored in. She followed them back to the table. Granted, this English isn't the easiest to learn either.
When Zasta reached them, Jasper was putting the brass in a large clear bag. She poured the smelly metal inside the bag with a hollow metallic clatter but, before she could ask anything about yet another mysterious item. She heard an all too familiar mechanical noise that brought her attention back to Raphael, and the limbless crossbow he held.
(Zasta… )“rifle.” Raphael said, holding up the rifle without the spring-loaded box that held the bolts.
Looks like a language lesson about the parts of this weapon is in order. Much like with Jasper’s ballista. Zasta thought as she looked at the tan weapon. Despite seeing these rifles every day this was the first time getting a good proper inspection of it.
She noted that it wasn't truly tan but tinted towards more of a copper tan, with two spy glasses mounted on the top with one cammed off to the side. The weapon was the very definition of control chaos with different enchanted items placed on the weapon. It looked cluttered at first glance but from watching the humans shoot and maneuver with it everything on the rifle was placed with care. She looked at the stock, and unlike a crossbow, it was a two piece stock with a fixed upper part and… her unspoken suspicion about the lower part was proven correct when Raphael freely slid the lower part of the stock back and forth.
“Retractable stock”... It took a few minutes of show and tell going over every part of the rifle and what it does. Followed by Zasta repeating everything shown to her, from parts of the rifle to the different shooting positions. With a smile and nod of satisfaction Raphael handed her the rifle.
With her newly required rifle in hand They went to adjust the stock to her arm length. Holding the grip in her (shooting hand), or draw hand, they moved the stock back until it made contact with her elbow.
(Okay, shoulder “rifle aim” down range.)
Zasta did just that, She was intrigued that even though it was made out of metal and some strange material she had never seen before the rifle felt no heavier and better balanced than a windlass crossbow. What mesmerized her was the spyglass that had a chevron within a circle that was cut away on the bottom, both the chevron and the circle glowed red. It also had several black lines on the bottom. It was an enchanted spyglass and she wondered just how many more bloody enchanted items does this rifle have? "Hmm, you close."
Zasta saw and felt Raphael move the stock into a different position on her shoulder. "Shoulder pocket, not hurt shoulder bone you fire."
Zasta blinked at that little tidbit of information. Hurt? What does he mean hurt?
"Release right hand, pull left hand. Finger Off (The Goddamn Trigger!) Zasta flinched at Raphael's sudden and commanding order. She instantly moved her finger off the trigger. She dryly swallowed and shrunk a little from the weathering glare of a now aggravated veteran soldier that had no time to deal with her stupidity.
The following coughing fit took a bit of the edge off of his voice and she winced remembering that speaking draconic could be taxing for the humans. Keeping her focus on the spyglass and away from his glare, she heard him taking a deep draft of water.
"(Okay) Zasta look at me." Raphael said, easing back into a firm tone. Zasta watched him as he talked and demonstrated with his rifle. "Left hand pull in, breath in out, pull (trigger)."
Click
Good to see that the breathing part of shooting is no different from archery. Only so many ways to shoot accurately I guess. Zasta thought as she heard the click. She looked at how she was holding the rifle and remembered the mandatory crossbow training everyone at the outpost was forced to take. To her recollection her performance was "passable", much to her chagrin and detriment to her pride as an archer. Though she happily preferred the bow over the crossbow any day. Well, I have to hope that I can aim better with this rifle than the crossbow.
For a moment she wondered if Eragon would be a better choice for this. She remembered him doing better than everyone with the crossbow. Now that she thought about it, He would most definitely be a better choice for this, but she'll never admit it. "(Your turn Zasta). Finger on trigger and fire."
She did as instructed and looked back down the spyglass. Lining up the point of the chevron with one of the white painted steel targets. She moved her finger onto the trigger and pulled at the end of her exhale… then pulled again and again this time a little harder. No matter what she did there was no click. That was when she heard Raphael snort in amusement, causing her to look at him in irritation.
“Safety (Zasta…)” Raphael pulled on the charging handle above the stock and behind spyglass before rapidly flicking the lever on the side of the rifle. "safety."
(Fuuuuck you Rakeal.) Zasta huffed in an amused but irritated tone shaking her head before looking back down the spyglass to avoid looking at his damn goofy smile. she flipped the safety off with her thumb. She began the process once more of aiming and pulled the trigger at the end of her breath….
Click
Her eyes widened after pulling the trigger. It was so, so much lighter than a crossbow trigger. She mimicked Raphael's earlier action of pulling the charging handle fully to the rear and pulled the trigger again. She giggled with disbelief at such a fine trigger before turning to Raphael with a full toothy smile. To her amusement, he shudders for the slightest moment at her predatory expression. He smiled back at her and nodded.
“(Good, use spyglass) magnifier." Raphael said, flipping the magnifier on his rifle from the side to behind the spyglass and back over again. Zasta looked down at the magnifier attached to her rifle. Trying it for herself, being caught by surprise about the amount of force that was needed to move it. Applying more force She was not prepared for when halfway over the magnifier snapped out of her hand right into position behind the spyglass.
Wait, the fuck? Why did it just do that? Zasta questioned, moving the magnifier back over, finding the same amount of force was needed to move it. Once more, halfway the magnifier snapped over. She gave it a head tilt and repeated the action a few more times with the same result. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Raphael silently chuckling with a smirk. Okay… Interesting but why? Why does it need such a mechanism that’s so difficult to move?
Setting that question aside for now, Zasta moves the magnifier back into position behind the spyglass and shoulders the rifle. Hmm… that's cool, why have a separate spyglass that's magnified? Wouldn't it be easier to have it just be magnified all the time?
“(Good) rifle sling." Raphael said, as they moved on to the next part. To Zasta's amusement, the most versatile and useful part of the rifle was the simplest part, its sling. Not only was it used to carry the rifle on the person wearing it, but it also served as a shooting aid when wrapped around her arm. It was like tensioning a rope off of an anchor to prevent something from moving. However, now was the moment of truth. It was time to fire the human rifle.
Her target was 50 meters away, which was a little far in Zasta’s opinion. If she was going to train someone on the archery range she would have had the target much closer. I wonder if this is close range for them; If that's the case I wonder what would be the maximum effective range?
"Ready!" Zasta heard Jasper say beside her, adopting the same stern instructional tone as Raphael, while her previous instructor had to leave to watch over the kids. Not like she minded being left with Jasper, she liked the man. Right now though…he had the cold inflection of an instructor who has no time for your or anyone else's bullshit. So she diligently inserted the metal box into the bottom of the rifle until she heard the click of the mag locking in. Then pulled the charging handle to load a bolt into the bolt rail.
"Aim!" Zasta shouldered the rifle the way Raphael had taught her. Looking down the spyglass with the magnifier to the side she placed the tip of the red chevron onto the center of the target.
(One round standing, Fire.) Zasta flipped the rifle off safe and pulled the trigger at the bottom of her breath.
BANG-DING!
It felt like someone had angrily shoved her shoulder. It was certainly surprising and had she not pulled the rifle into her shoulder otherwise that shove would have been a punch. She looked at the new gray dot in the center mass where the bolt hit the target. By the gods that was awesome. But I could do without the smelly odor and this weird sickly sweet taste in the back of my throat.
“(three rounds kneeling.)” Jasper barked out. She took a knee moving her left wing under her elbow, and her tail laying on the ground to provide a third point of contact. Her resulting stance was as steady as the heaven oak trees around them.
BANG-DING!
This time the bolt hit the target in the head. “Lean forward Zasta.”
She felt him push her forward just a little bit. (two left, fire.)
BANG-DING BANG-DING!
These two bolts hit the center again and she smiled at the swinging target.
(three bolts) prone.” Jasper barked out again, but she could hear the smile in his tone. She laid down, and moved her wings to where the hand guard rested on her wing claws adding more stability into the position. Looking through the spyglass she found that the rifle was not moving. Despite the position being extremely stable, she didn’t like the feeling of being vulnerable with her back exposed.
BANG-DING BANG-DING BANG-DING!!
“Unload and Clear.” Zasta pushed the button to drop the box and locked the rifle open. She inserted the ejected bolt back into the metal box then stood up. She had a beaming smile on her face.
(////)
Jasper smiled back at Zasta. Despite only shooting at a 50 meter target she had done a great job despite the language barrier we were working with. He could think of a few humans who were native speakers who couldn't even manage that much.
“You like?” Jasper asked, walking back to collect the brass she had shot. It was too bad they only taught her the bare bones basics and not the dynamic shooting like what he and Raphael were doing earlier. It was getting about the time they’d need to start cleaning the guns and packing up the range for the day.
(Gods yes, I love shooting your “ricle” so much easier to shoot!) Zasta exclaimed with the widest smile on her face he had seen so far. The smile remained even as she started to help him collect the rest of the brass.
Despite only understanding about half of what she said, he could understand that she was ecstatic. Keeping the rifle slung to her chest like a kid who has a toy they never wanted to let go of. When the brass had been picked and deposited onto the table, she looked him in the eyes.
(Jasker, I shot big wood “ricle”, please?) Zasta asked with a pair of the biggest puppy dog eyes he had ever seen.
Oh, by God, now that's not fair. Jasper never thought himself vulnerable to the puppy dog eyes, but damn it she was too adorable. He brought a hand to his face and closed his eyes while he pinched the bridge of his nose, failing to hide the grin of amusement at the sheer absurdity of the situation of a grown ass woman giving him the mother of all puppy dog eyes. Oh, just how in the hell was he supposed to say no to that!
"Fine… Fine" He chuckled as he spoke. (Yes, yes you shoot big wood) rifle." Jasper stifled a laugh at her little shrill of joy. Looking for all the world like a girl who was asked out on a date with the boy she was crushing on. (Clean after.)
Zasta nodded and Jasper looked down at his rifle before adding. “(lay) rifle(on table).”
Zasta almost reluctantly unslung the rifle and laid it on the table. Jasper meanwhile, picked up his sharps rifle. “(Remember wood) rifle (work?)”
(Yes, Jasker I remember.) Zasta answered with a nod.
"Alright, here you go." Jasper said, passing over his rifle apprehensively. He really hoped she would handle it with care. It was the last gift from a lot of people he'd never see again. He took a deep breath and swallowed down his worry, it was only going to be just for one time and he knew she was more than strong enough to hold onto the rifle under recoil.
(Holy shit that's heavy!) Despite only understanding one word of that exclamation, Jasper smiled in amusement. Even though the rifle was in fact quite heavy; However, the local gravity took much of the weight away. About 58 percent of its weight was actually felt according to Wilson. Granted the dude used a 100 gram weight standard and a very accurate electric power scale and some mathematical formula he managed to pull out of his ass to get that, but the man was way smarter than Jasper so who was he to complain.
Besides, with the new constant of 5.7M/S² he has the ability to do the ballistic math for the .50 and the 45-120 Sharps. Unsurprisingly the math has shown the rounds were now much flatter shooting despite their subpar ballistic coefficient. He would have loved to see what the higher BC rounds like .416 Barrett, 6.5 Creedmoor, or 7mm Mauser would have done here. Hmm, I'll have to play with the .50 tomorrow to make sure the ballistic math is right. Maybe let Zasta shoot the .50, Eragon and Daena would be jealous.
(Okay, half cock, lower lever, check for clear.) Jasper heard her mutter to herself as she walked through the motions. Satisfied the rifle was clear, he rewarded her with a satisfied smirk and nod.
(One round) Jasper said, handing her a round of the long 45-120 sharps. Zasta took a breath in to ready herself and looked down the range at the 150 meter target. She inserted the round onto the chamber lifting the breach into place.
Jasper didn't know much about archery, that was Rapheal's thing, but to him this looked like it might be the furthest she has ever shot before. She wrapped her forearm around the sling and shouldered the rifle, then she moved her wings around her resting the long barrel on the v her wings made providing more stability before moving the hammer to full cock. Jasper could see her tail on the ground giving her a sort of tripod stance. He moved a hand to hover right behind her shoulder to catch her if the recoil decided to take her for a ride.
BANG! Ding.
Zasta's shoulder jerked back sharply when the venerable rifle roared and after the report rolled away the all too familiar satisfying ding ring out. Zasta took a slow breath, ejected the cartridge and slowly laid the rifle onto the table. She turned to him and he could tell she was positively vibrating with excitement while wearing the biggest and widest smile he had ever seen on a dragonette so far.
(Gods, oh gods! That. Was. Awesome!) Jasper smiled at her excitement and he chuckled when she started massaging her shoulder. (But. Fucking Hell… that fucking hurt. It was like an angry smith decided to punch me in the shoulder.)
Jasper saw her looking at him expecting a response. He just shrugged with a goofy ‘i don't know’ smile. Zasta visibly deflated and slapped her forehead when she realized that he hadn't understood what she just said. Jasper laughed at her misfortune which she joined and laughed along with him.
Jasper heard wing beats followed by someone hitting the ground sprinting. He heard Daena's musical voice call out to Zasta in a tone of panic and pain that sent an ice cold shiver down his spine. The woman let the draconic fly so fast between her gasping breath that he didn't have a snowball's chance in hell to catch a single word of it. Deana approached Zasta, her eyes bloodshot blue and tears running down her cheek
Jasper became concerned when Zasta’s eyes widened as she became as white as her chest plate while Deana’s jaw trembled and fresh tears rolled down her cheek. Which was when he finally noticed someone was missing. Taking a deep breath, she turned to him and he could see the determination burning in her eyes. She spoke in a clear slow voice saying the dreaded code word for when the convoy was under attack. “Jasker. Dark. Night.”
Jasper spoke the magic word that would set any soldier's teeth on edge. "Shit!"
(////)
first: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/vbmrxf/hunter_or_huntress_wings_of_change/
last: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/yss5gy/hunter_or_huntress_wings_of_change_6_rezeroing/
next: N/A

Guys help, it’s been an hour since I started a jailbreak mission but I have no clue what to do after removing the handcuffs from the prisoners and killing all the security officers in the outpost. Tried searching on Reddit, Google and official wiki but found nothing, help please

Hey Commanders, our first community contest has now reached the final stage.
Its time to Vote for your favorite so they can earn the grand price in the final round where the winner takes it all.
We also want to thank all participants, as we have received some very entertaining entries. This competition was connected to the theme of our beloved “Counters Squad”.
Future community activities might feature less thematically limited conditions, to include a broader spectrum of entries. Here are our top 3 contenders based on upvotes:
Hollow Proxy with a classic 4 frame meme
Mossinoda with a (caring) bully meme
Ricksed with a wholesome but also bitter meme
Because of how close the 3th and 4th place are, the 4th place contender will be added into our final poll:
thisGuyFrob with a fruity fresh meme
In the following poll you will have the opportunity to make your final decision on which of the above mentioned memes you’d like to crown the winner.
So pick wisely, within a frame of 3 days.
This is a first test run to see what kind of community activities people like to be part of. Thus, any feedback or suggestions for future contests are quite welcome, in order to improve on this concept gradually. Thanks. Dismissed.
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The clock ticks down the hours to disaster or triumph
The universe of Between worlds (aka The occupation saga) was made by u/BlueFishcake, of which I am using for my little space ship story (now with extra speeches)
Took me a while to make this one and rightfully so, its over twice the size of a normal chapter.
Comments, criticism and grammar checks are welcome.
Thank you for your patience.
Terran Free Navy Flag
First Previous [Next]
\ \ \ \ / / / /
Diagrams of star maps vanished from Captain Blazon’s vision as the summary of the upcoming fleet exercise came to a close. Major elements from the second fleet would conduct a patrol along a subset of the Imperium’s periphery territories.
It was a pirate hunting fleet. Two hundred ships strong. Most would scout and filter through systems lacking outposts or hydrogen refuelling stations. Some were positioned further behind in a combat group, ready to jump into any system where hostile forces were found.
It did happen often enough to justify sufficient planning should the eventuality come to pass. As a captain in the imperial patrol, Blazon was familiar with the rigmarole to the point of it being second nature. To her, any deployment carried the risk of encountering pirates. Even in well-guarded systems. So when the tired old briefing had some subtle differences from standard procedure, the Shil’vati captain caught on in an instant.
Gaps persisted throughout the fleet movement plan. Some Systems had unintentional buffer zones ensuring they would be glossed over. Much of the fleet also converged around one such place about a few days into the planned journey, Just under a week from now. Some backwater Star system by the name of Vag’is. The timing stuck her as odd. Especially considering forward elements had already been sent out.
Or perhaps it was just a flight of fancy from the local admiralty. This was merely a fleet exercise after all. One that happened to have all the bells and whistles of a full anti-pirate flotilla.
For her heroic actions at Metrian, Blazon was given the honour of commanding her own task force. It would be an imperial patrol fleet, as expected from her rank and experience in the military branch.
As soon as the initial meeting ended, the captain was off to communicate with her subordinate officers from the ships under her command. The board room on the station she had chosen was one that her aunty Aystogh liked to use. One with an AI-based masking system specially made by one of her family’s Gearshilde friends uploaded to the cameras so she had a place to discuss less than sanctioned conversations away from the Interior’s keen ears.
Convincing the rear admiral to let her use the space had been difficult but constant reassurances that they would not be planning a ‘proactive’ operation against Ulalas’ machinations eventually wore down her opposition to the idea. Of course, Aystogh would be reviewing the footage herself to make sure blazon wasn’t going behind her back.
But the Captain finally had all that she needed.
Blazon’s most trusted officers gathered around her, many from the remnants of the 82nd patrol group. The rest were those who said women could vouch for. Hopefully they would not need much persuasion to join her cause, considering the general order of silence regarding the events at Metrian. The wheels of the rumour mill had been spinning for weeks at this point and the interior was happy to let the whispers muddy any truths that may have slipped out.
She had an alibi in the form of the fleet exercise planning. Blazon was expected to choose her subordinates and conduct a lengthy meeting with them. And finally, if anyone should try to investigate, the doctored video footage would hide their tracks.
With two dozen heads watching expectantly, the captain tapped her omni-pad. The holo-display built into the table came to life. Images and video of combat footage and post op reports flickered in the air for all to see.
Looks of confusion amongst the uninitiated slowly fell away to shock as what they were seeing sunk in.
“I won’t mince words,” Blazon began, snatching the attention of the amassed officers with her stern voice. “Admiral Ulalas requested I keep this to myself. My staff and subordinates were similarly demanded to keep quiet. We were assured the new situation would be passed on to the wider imperium. According to all the information I’ve gathered, this has not occurred. Considering you are well taught women, I do not think I need to explain what kind of danger-“ she gestured at the thermal emission map floating above them. Concerned eyes played over the image of space behind the mighty arrays of laser banks firing. Placement, watt output and the overall dimensions the weapons were dotted on implied how dire a threat was lurking out in the black ocean. “-that Battleship represents. Ualas is intentionally neglecting her duties. What for, I do not know. But plans must be made, should an appropriate opportunity arise, to deliver information of this threat to the imperium at large.
With that out of the way, any questions before we begin?
Many voices and hands rose up as soon as the words stopped flowing from her lips.
\ \ \ \ / / / /
It was all Rin’kat could do to keep her calm as the roars, shouts and screams continued unabated in the auditorium. Her technical victory in this mess earned her the envious position at the centre of the room. Beside them stood her Edixi bodyguard, several loyal captains of various species, a representative of Ulnus colony 13, as well as a certain, very dejected looking Halaer Ikon. Having all these people together who had been shooting at each other barely a day earlier was not a particularly good thing for the overall smoothing of relations, but it was still critical to get them to establish some kind of working relationship after this was all over.
Halaer’s capture had led to a rolling surrender in the security forces. A few rushed promises of employment with the errant pirates quickly brought the more rebellious captains to heel.
The Ulnus presented a whole other issue. Yet somehow the Free Navy managed to broker a peace with them too, ending hostilities between her forces and the roaches in what felt like mere minutes. The Baron’s explanation of it being ‘a misunderstanding of grand proportions’ fell far short of the detailed debrief she expected.
Granted, learning that Ikon had been colluding with the Shil’vati from her own interrogations went a long way to figuring out how this whole mess occurred in the first place.
From the roach perspective, they had learnt that their ally had been an agent of their nemesis and, perhaps rightfully, attacked. The fact we tried to stop them made the Ulnus believe we were siding with Ikon. From there the metaphorical train flew predictably off the rails.
And now that the surrenders and truces have been filtered through, she was left with the next big issue.
Which wasn’t how to address the matter of their imminent demise. Unfortunately.
It was what the new pecking order was. And with everyone reluctant to settle it violently in the current crisis, it was about who could rally the most support to their cause.
Which, in turn, had become a game of framing their opponents as responsible for the ongoing situation.
One hundred captains screeched at each other in the auditorium, lobbing insults like stones.
Reptilian Madarin spat words of broken alliances with offended Nighkru and Helkam. Pesrin mercenaries and Tuari goons called Nilet’en warbands cowards for staying out of the conflict whilst the demonic looking aliens shot back words that the felines were at fault for instigating the conflict. Zelvans scowled as people of all species roared and jeered at them for being accomplices to Ikon’s treachery. Many others discussed whispered mutterings amongst each other. A majority of those had already aligned themselves to Rin’kat’s block but that didn’t mean they would not turn their back to her if the tide turned against her.
She had tried to bring order to the room to no avail. Firing a warning shot into the ceiling might finally silence the discourse, however considering the sheer number of hands awfully close to holsters, it could also escalate the tension in a direction the Koghesa really didn’t want it to.
Rin’kat was more of a broker than a mercenary in her own right. To four fifths of the women here she was some mook for a private military company, little more than a glorified recruiter scrounging around for what little Ikon didn’t pick up. Sure they had to pay lip service to her to gain access to the wealth of weapons she provided, but that didn’t earn her much in the way of actual respect. Especially in the middle of a crisis such as this.
Every minute she lost the room just a little bit more. Soon people would start leaving and the chain of disaster would truly begin. What she needed was a figure who had their respect, who could grab their attention and keep it. A public figure who they could universally attribute to the pacification of Kyrosa station.
As much as she would like to claim otherwise, that person was the Baron.
Their forces decisively turned the tide in her favour, it was his fireteams that captured Halaer, broke through Zelvan and Ulnus blockades alike and managed to negotiate a ceasefire.
Had Rin’kat gone public with their agreement, she might have been able to swing their intervention as her doing. But alas, both of them wanted their association kept discreet, and so every ounce of success was attributed to the Phantoms. Even then, she would still appreciate their presence. Diarchy, the Baron even showed up fifteen minutes earlier.
If it weren’t for that octahedral drone floating up to the man. Whatever its controller said to him must have been dire because his calm collected body language stiffened with alarm at the mere acknowledgement of its existence. Whether it was some critical report or a word from a shadowy higher up, Rin’kat didn’t know, as the masked soldier excused himself to one of the side rooms with his entourage and had not come out since.
“What are we even doing here” some Nighkru captain scoffed just unfortunately loud enough for everyone to hear. “If a shil task force is on its way why don’t we just fuck off before it gets ugly?”
A few too many ears paid attention. A few too many voices sounded their agreement. People were leaving their seats. She was losing them.
“Don’t you dare! This is what the purps are hoping will happen,” Rin’kat pleaded to the crowd that had long since stopped listening
“Oh shut it, girl,” a Tuari derisively sneered. “What the hell do you know about blockade running? You’ve probably never helmed a skiff let alone an actual ship. If you thinks you can keep us here, I’d like to see her fucking try!”
More jeers erupted. Even more set up to leave. Many voices from many species all yelled at each other.
It was then an unfamiliar one cut through the din.

“ENOUGH!”

They yelled at a pitch, tone and especially volume the gathered women did not expect.
Their protests and complaints fell to less than a whisper as the figure who shouted presented themselves at the top of the stairs at the edge of the room.
A myriad of mouths gaped at the sight of the figure. Broad shouldered and resplendent in a pale blue military uniform. Badges festooned his clothing, whilst a blue head-wrap concealed their hair. Caramel skin and scrutinising dark eyes peered down at the assembled mass with what could only be described as contempt. The same gaze also carried a sense of wisdom, crows feet marked their eyes and grey hairs dotted their beard..
Facial hair. The errant thought helped shake Rin’kat from the moment of surprise. It was a sight that reminded her of how truly alien they were. A nearly foot long bush of hair extended from the lips, cheeks and chin of the man in a strange parody of hair that would normally fall from someone's scalp.
Their posture was familiar however. Stern and steady, brimming with a wary confidence.
The Baron, finally revealing themselves in the flesh, scoured the assembled commanders for any hints of defiance. It wasn’t long before the first voice rose up against them. Unsurprisingly it was a Tuari that fought back first against someone claiming greater authority than them.
“Who let this male into the hall?” she mocked, attempting to gain support from the crowd. Normally, such a statement would earn a few chuckles and the tacit support of the women around her. From Rin’kat’s experience only the Pesrin would be vocal against these kinds of claims.
Instead silence and whispers resounded.
Only when the quiet dragged uncomfortably long did the man in question respond.
“Are you done?” He asked as if it were the most mundane thing in the galaxy.
Rin’kat watched the Tuari glance around for support that never came. When they finally realised nothing would manifest, the cream furred alien sat down to save what little face she had not lost.
The Baron gave no snide remarks or insults, he merely switched his focus to the assembly once more.
“To be frank,” they stated, keeping their voice both loud and even. His expression softened a touch to something that stuck Rin’kat much deeper than she expected. His expression showed a touch of care, hint of anger and a critical pinch of concern whilst keeping the overarching feeling of disgust.
“I am disappointed.”
It lanced her heart with an unforeseen stab of pain. Many of the women didn’t stiffen at the remark but sank instead. Hardened criminals withered at the Baron’s words and the lone Koghesa struggled to fathom why. From the looks of the pirates around her, they didn’t know why either.
“I expected more from the most capable fighters this side of the imperial border. Instead it seems I've been given a gaggle of children instead.”
“And who the fuck do you think you are?” A nearby Nighkru scoffed. She rose from her seat and pressed towards the baron with fury audible in every step. “You think you’re hot shit just ‘cus you showed up at the last minute and stole a win? Some pathetic elderly man with a face full of Kortika-”
“Was I done talking, Nehica?” He boomed, cutting her off mid ramble. In a move that defied expectations yet again, the male strode to meet the upstart head on. The Nighkru faltered for a moment as a man of all things seemed undeterred by her approach. Her resolve steadied, sneer reforming, when he got within arms reach and stopped. Her hand rested on the pistol at her hip.
She peered down at the male.
But only found herself peering up to meet his gaze. For a second time her nerve broke. He was bigger. The margin wasn’t by much, but only a little was needed to undercut the dismissive notions many of the captains in the hall carried.
The Baron took another step forward, his scowl fixed down on the nighkru. Rin’kat saw her take a half step back, not enough to look like she was backing down but her unease was bleeding through into their body language.
“Did that look like an invitation for you to run your mouth?” Makkar asked again with much less vitriol.
The woman did nothing but hold their tongue and grit their teeth.
Rin’kat grew worried about the disposition of the crowd. The Baron had escalated the situation. She watched the man’s scowl soften a little as fresh words escaped his lips.
“You are free to sit, Miss Nehica.”
Looks were exchanged between her and her posse but eventually the nighkru meekly backed down.
“I understand that change is daunting to face,” the baron began as he watched Captain Nehica return to their seat. “But if there are any people in the galaxy that can take advantage of an apparently dire situation, it’s privateers, buccaneers and, dare I say, pirates such as us. Especially when we can set aside our differences to achieve a far greater prize than we could alone.”
“If you think you can convince me to stay, Boy, you’re either far too naive for your age or just plain stupid.”
Many eyes flicked over to a Weathered Kortika mercenary hanging back by exit doors. They peered down their scared snout dismissively at the Admiral. She puffed her graying, spotted chest out as the masses gave her their undivided attention. “I know how these speeches always go. I’ve faced a pirate hunting fleet before. It’s not a thing anyone can survive an encounter with.”
“Lieutenant Gylek. How are Harkan’s Marauders doing?”
The hyena-looking woman narrowed her eyes and huffed at the question.
“We’ve been through worse, Thank you for asking. But this will go straight to hell if we don’t leave before that fleet gets here.”
“It’s already here!” Rin’kat yelled, finally unable to contain her frustration at being ignored for so long. Taking a deep breath she regained her composure.
“Baron. It’s a pleasure to finally meet in the flesh.” The human finally wore a smile for the first time in the hall.
“If I’m not mistaken Miss Ashterthan, we have already met.”
“A voice changer and vacuum suit hardly counts as ‘in person.’”
“Touché.”
The word was unfamiliar to her. As it was clearly not part of the trade nighkru language, she would hazard a guess it’s English. Regardless of its origin, the warm tone and similarly positive expression worn on the Baron’s face gave away its meaning as some kind of humble acceptance.
She drew herself out from her musings as Rin’kat remembered the crowd of agitated pirates filling the room. The Koghesa cleared her throat and filled her voice with a stern edge to get across the seriousness of their predicament as plainly as they could.
“As i was saying, the shil’vati fleet is already deployed. Forward scout elements usually leave port a full two weeks before the main armada. Considering the fact Duchess Admiral Ualas is already well aware of kyrosa’s existence in this system, there are almost certainly squadrons of frigates patrolling the stars nearby.”
“That changes nothing!” Kortika slammed her fist into the seat of a mildly frightened Nilten. Many women voiced their agreement with her statement. “A few frigates are chump change compared to what is coming. Those patrol vessels are barely a threat compared to what we have.”
“You’re right.” Many heads swivelled yet again to observe the single male in the room, excluding the pesrin militias who brought their husband’s to the meeting. “The frigates are not the true threat.” Smiles and nods flitted across the hall, including on Gylek’s smug face. It seems even the baron had to admit that staying was-
“Tactically, that is,” He continued. “Strategically, it is a death sentence.” Rin’kat couldn’t help but smile as the male flipped the mood of the room on its head yet again.
“Tell me Gylek, have you ever heard of the prisoner’s dilemma?”
“No,” she answered honestly. “Sounds like some kinda game theory shit.”
“Right on the money,” The Baron congratulated her. “I bring it up because it seems oddly similar to our current situation.”
“I sincerely doubt that,” the kortika snarked. Groans resounded along with her words. Her support on the floor was growing. This could pose a problem and soon. The Baron’s expression remained stoic, using what authority he gained earlier to invest them in his tangent.
“Two gang members are imprisoned on felony charges,” they started, getting some interest from the women present. “The authorities don't have solid evidence to convict them for the full crime. But they do have enough to get them on lesser charges, so they decide to use that to play them against each other. The two criminals are separated and each given a bargain: Stay silent and get five years in prison. Rat out your companion and they get the full 20 years but all charges against you are dropped. Their companion is given the same deal, and if both confess, they share the sentence, getting 10 years each.”
“Let me guess, If you were one of the prisoners, what is the best option for you to choose?” Gylek huffed.
“Right again. Do you do these often?”
“Somewhat. Being good at analysinganalysing risk comes with the job. You don't tend to make it far if you’re shit at it. Snitch is the right answer by the way, the worst option can only occur if you stay quiet. I do get what you mean by it being similar, however.”
“It is quite easy, isn't it? When you consider the simple straight forward factors, stay, some leave, all leave, the answer seems obvious,” Baron said as the irritated crowd subdued their outcries. “The thing is, it gets more complex the more factors you start to add in. Let's start with a simple one, shall we?
How many of you have starships outfitted with hydrogen refineries? You can’t run anywhere without fuel after all.”
A few women scoffed. Others looked confused at the question. But many others, Rin’kat and Gylek included, furrowed their brows as they already figured out where the male was going with this.
“If you can't get it yourself, who are you going to get it from?”
More eyes began to widen and peer suspiciously at their neighbours as the realisation set in. With no fueling stations elsewhere in the sparsely populated periphery territory, the only available source of fuel was the larger ships with refineries, and by proxy, eachother.
“Good you’ve seemed to have caught on,” Baron stated. “Now consider a well supplied, well organised military force will be hunting you whilst you fight each other for scraps with no time to prepare or plan. Not to mention because of the Shil noble’s plant here,” He gestured to Halaer Ikon in the centre of the hall. “She knows the comings and goings of most of the vessels here. The entire region will be on high alert for any unusual shipping activity. Any emergency stops at ports
Some could definitely escape, I will not contest that truth. However the vast majority will die in the attempt.
So, Gylek, we could easily break through their blockade. It would result in a tactical victory, but develop into a major strategic defeat.”
“So what?” Gylek growled. “We should stay put, outmatched and outnumbered and try to shoot our way out? Should i mention that a single pirate fleet has managed to beat a pirate hunting fleet period! The number of fucks that have tried has hit the hundreds and every last brotherfucker is sucking vacuum.”
“Have you read the documentation for those battles?”
“Of course not,” Gylek scoffed. “No one has. Unless you are implying you somehow have access to classified Shil’vati military reports.”
“Imply? No. I have them right here,” The Baron grinned as he held up his omnipad. With an errant swipe and a moment's pause, everyone’s datapads pinged with a notification of a data transfer request.
Rin’kat furiously poured over the files that graced her omnipad. Although she simply could not believe it at first, the Baron had not deceived her. In her hands were 22 highly detailed reports on major engagements between pirate fleets and shil’vati task forces over the past 200 hundred shil years. Granted, she hardly had time to sift through them all to verify if every single one was authentic, but that was something they could get Veldros to do for her.
The Kortika was the first to break the white noise of captains discussing the write ups and videos sent their way.
“How the hell did you…Let me guess, you ‘convinced’ them to hand it over,” she growled, more bewildered than angry.
“No, I did not have someone use their ‘masculine charms’ to get those files, if that was what you were implying,” the Baron chuckled. “It was a process of posting incorrect information and staunchly defending our clearly flawed assessment in online chatrooms where our targets frequented. Do that enough times, and they just hand over the data themselves to prove their point.”
Rin’kat shook her head in dismay.
“No. It can't be that easy…”
“It really was. Although I will say It did require some charm to find out who to target in the first place,” the Baron admitted. “Turns out the easiest source was men. No one suspected the masculine women to be spies…but I digress.”
He turned back to face the Gylek and swept his gaze over the assembly.
“Every one of those battles shares several unifying factors.
One. Every fleet was cornered. Not one engagement was actively chosen by the acting pirate lord. We even have 47 other reports of fleets routing before the battle starts.
They had their routes blocked and resupply stations destroyed anywhere from days to weeks before battle was joined.
Two. Every Fleet was taken by surprise, only having a sparse few hours to prepare to enter combat with an already organised battlegroup.
Three. Every fleet fought using orthodox attritional skirmish tactics in open space.”
Rin’kat saw the scowl deepen on the kortika’s face as he made his statement to the now much more attentive crowd. “Gylek, you were at Yerbus-28-beta, file number 22, correct.”
“Yes,” she said between gritted teeth.
“Did anything I say not line up with your experiences?”
“no.”
“Good. Now, trapped, outnumbered and out of options. That scenario is looking strikingly similar to the Prisoner dilemma again.
A dilemma with no good options by design,” The baron continued as he started walking down the steps to the centre of the room.
“By Shil’vati design.”
The human regarded Rin’kat with a warm smile as he finally came within a few metres of her.
“So what is the best choice then?” He asked aloud, although he was directly looking at the Koghesa the entire time. He turned yet again to inspect the captains before him.
“What is the option with the greatest result in this rigged game? Is it to run away to find a slow death? Or is it to stay and die a quick one?”
More muttering. More confusion and dismissive statements. As the seconds ticked by Rin’kat couldn’t help but notice the Baron seeming increasingly disappointed with the captains.
“Come on!” He urged them. “You’re pirates, the answer should be obvious!”
Then his eyes caught something and an ember of a smile emerged on his face. Tracing his gaze upwards, Rin’kat’s attention was once again focused on the Kortika. Her expression had softened a touch as she contemplated instead of scowled. Her eyes darted quickly to nowhere in particular, like she was thinking through an answer to the baron’s question.
Her eyes lit up for a brief moment. Gylek reluctantly let a smirk form on her face as she spoke.
“You cheat.”
She gave the Captains a moment to look at her before continuing.
“When you find yourself in a rigged game, you cheat like hell.”
“Now you get it,” Baron said wolfishly. “When presented with unfavourable options, draw a blade the guards were not expecting and make your own. We’re Privateers for god’s sake. Why are we playing by their rules?
Do any of you ladies go into raids firing from afar with lasers in prolonged skirmishes?” He asked satirically with their arms held wide.
“Of course not! You launch surprise boarding actions. You disguise your ships as cargo haulers to sneak within striking distance. You dive in from an unexpected quarter, guns and missiles blasing as you take out an unsuspecting cruiser in one fell swoop. You mine shipping lanes and set up fake SOS beacons to lure in targets.”
The Baron was speaking with so much more energy than before. With conviction. There was a glow in his eyes that Rin’kat could see spreading amongst the disheartened marauders.
“That is how we fight. Dirty. Now let's look at those fleet fights again, shall we?
One. Now ladies, are we away from our supplies?” he asked jokingly. “I'm sure Kyrosa is not in fact a mountain of heavy hydrogen stores, missiles, laser banks and spare parts. I'm sure it isn't also armed to the teeth and protected by a fleet of hardened mercenaries over one hundred ships strong.” He let the half chuckles bleed away before continuing.
“Two. Not only do we know they are going to attack us. We know almost exactly when and where.
Three. I believe I've explained this point already but let me reiterate. The one thing the shil’vati won't be getting when they arrive is a fair fight. We have a stockpile to prepare whatever shit we want to throw at them.
Speaking of. We have a full week to arm, repair and organise an effective fighting force. This isn't much, I will admit. But it helps greatly that someone else-” The Baron turned conspicuously to stare down at Ikon. “-Has done several years of covert stockpiling in preparation for a scenario quite similar to one we will soon face." For once, Halaer seems to straighten her posture with a touch of pride.
“Well, I wasn’t planning on being some purp’s slave forever,” She muttered.
“That stockpile just so happens to include over 1200 high yield nuclear warheads.” Rin’kat baulked at the figure ten times higher than the total number of WMDs that she has traded in her entire time on Kyrosa. The baron waggled his omnipad in the air as he continued.
“If you don't believe that number, come follow me after we are done here. I’ll show you where our retired station mistress houses them."
The claim calmed down most of the sceptical voices. For now, at least.
“Now combine that with the stealth technology I have at my disposal and well… I’ll let you fill in the blanks.”
Now, the atmosphere in the room truly changed. The arguments and scoffs had ebbed to nothing. The faces that stared back at the Baron were not sneering or confused or shocked. They were calm, cold looks with furrowed brows and contemplative eyes. Rin’kat knew what it meant because it was the very same thing she was feeling.
This was no longer a hopeless gamble anymore. They had a chance. A significant possibility of victory for one. And they were seriously considering it. All they needed was a final push to get them to accept. With the Baron patiently waiting for them to discuss, Rin’kat decided to provide the final detail that would tip the scales in their plan’s favour.
“It should also be worth mentioning the salvage of a handful of imperial warships is worth a small fortune. A battlefleet’s worth would net you a rather lucrative sum of credits when the dust has settled,” Rin’kat nonchalantly mentioned.
There were far more grins and smiles now. With that one statement she had turned the disaster into an opportunity in the eyes of the captains. She received a quick glance and a respectful nod from the human. ‘My pleasure’ she whispered back in heavily accented English.
“So, with all the factors established, let me ask you ladies one final question:
Would you be willing to let me and Rin’kat here organise and lead an ambush against an enemy that has claimed the lives of thousands of our brethren? To fight in a battle not only for survival and glory, but for riches beyond anything you have achieved before.
Are you a coward or are you willing to take a risk?
Are you their prisoner? Or are you going to Claim. What’s. Yours?!”
Raucous cheers and the stomping of feet were his answer. Even Gylek was grinning from ear to ear.
The Baron only hoped he could deliver on their expectations.
/ / / \ \ \
[Next]

Through Monday, April 17 we present the Heroic Maps Future Bundle featuring full-color digital battlemaps from Heroic Maps for any tabletop SFRPG. Since 2013 Joseph and Sarah Bilton have produced battlemaps and tiles featuring castles and villages, dungeons and crypts, starships and space stations. Funded by a strong Patreon campaign, Heroic Maps has published hundreds of unique landscapes, starscapes, and deck plans. We presented a wide-ranging sample of fantasy worlds (including nine layers of Hell) in the June 2022 Heroic Maps Bundle. This new offer heads to the stars with science-fictional settings including spacecraft and space station deck plans, an asteroid base for smugglers, and lots of planetside structures.
Print these gorgeous .PDF battle sites for your game table, or import the .JPG images into your favorite virtual tabletop (VTT) like Roll20, Foundry VTT, or Fantasy Grounds. Each map has grid and no-grid versions, and each image is provided in both low- and high-resolution quality. ("High quality" = a total of 23 gigabytes of battlemaps – the largest Bundle of Holding filesize ever!)
Pay just US$14.95 to get all ten complete map sets in our Space Collection (retail value $71.50) as DRM-free .PDFs and .JPGs:

• Five space station sets: Lithilus Station Shipyard, Orbital Station Scova 4 (normal operations) and Red Alert (after a devastating attack), Docking Bay 1V-1E, and Smuggler Asteroid Base
• Four spaceships of various sizes: The Crow's Nest, Greywing, Old Scoter, and HLS Vincula Prison Ship
• The enigmatic Locus Alien Megastructure

And if you pay more than the threshold (average) price, which is set at $27.95 to start, you'll level up and also get our entire Planetside Collection with fifteen more map sets worth an additional $111.50:

• Nine scenes suited for any desert planet, including five large areas in that wretched hive of scum and villainy, Eyno Bleside – Cantina, Docking Bay, Colony Market, Housing District, and Military Compound J-22b – as well as Parsgritt Sandsea Docks, the Sector K-6 Supply Depot, the Streets of Enna Shallu, and Arung Ry Outpost: Cantina
• Interesting sites to see and possibly blow up: Cadus Zone Scrapyard, Caldera Power Station, the abandoned colony Elvie's Hope (inspired by Hadley's Hope in Aliens), various Landing Platforms, a Mountain Landing Pad, and the ominous Petraluna Corp Prison Mine

Ten percent of your payment (after gateway fees) goes to this Heroic Maps Future offer's pandemic-related charity, Direct Relief. Direct Relief sends protective gear and critical care medications to health workers, with emergency deliveries to medical facilities across the US and to regional response agencies across the world.
Whether your itinerary includes giant space stations, squalid cantinas, volcanic power stations, weird alien bases, prison mines, or scrapyards – unlikely for many itineraries, but we all know what player characters can get up to – you'll want this Heroic Maps Future offer before it vanishes Monday, April 17.
https://bundleofholding.com/presents/FutureMaps