Virtual War: Alpha Centauri (A LitRPG Novel)

by Steven J Shelley

  Under the watchful eye of Gary “Quantum” Banner, the base started to take shape within a couple of hours. Talbot authorized the use of all materials salvaged from the last mission. There was no reason why they couldn’t fashion more materials on Avari. A workbench and forge were created in the shade of the north canyon wall. Talbot planned to destroy them once the base was completed and the rest of the host was ready to move on.

  The engineers produced tools on the workbench using raw materials gathered from the jungle. Quite a few mechanists were emerging from the engineer pool. These guys came into their own when given a time to be creative. Before long the soldiers were mining granite directly from the canyon wall. Adding water and mud from the river, bricks could be fashioned in the forge.

  The soldiers sweated and grunted in the morning sun as Quantum’s design began to take shape. Talbot marveled at the economy of the construction. The base was like a hexagonal bunker. The walls were comprised of granite bricks, the roof crafted from existing metal plates. Quantum and a dedicated detachment began digging a trench through the hard-packed sand. One of the hydrologists charted a channel that diverted the water through, creating a moat. Of course, it wouldn’t stop marauding dragoons, but it might slow them down enough to pick them off.

  Once Quantum had finished his sweaty work, he approached Talbot with a coy expression. Having joined the digging detail for a session of manual labor, Talbot was panting heavily.

  “Sir, I have a proposition for you,” he said quietly.

  “Go ahead.”

  “I’ve just reached level three metallurgy and level five unique weapon design,” he said proudly. “Blunderbusses are now available. We have fine metallurgical skills, a forge and all the raw materials we need. We have everything - except for circuitry.”

  Talbot knew what Quantum was asking for.

  “The quad,” he groaned. He called Wilkes and Fielding over for leader consultation.

  “Quantum can make blunderbusses but the quad needs to be sacrificed,” Talbot said. “I need a risk analysis.”

  “Fine from my end,” Fielding said. “My scouts travel light and mobile. We work better in isolation. If anything, the noise that thing makes is a hindrance.”

  “Wilkes?”

  “On any other planet I’d say you’re crazy,” he mused. “But on Avari, a quad is just a packhorse. And we’ve got nothing to carry anymore.”

  “Right,” Talbot said. “That settles it. Quantum - take the quad apart and use the circuitry for the production of heavy weapons. We can spread the rest of the salvage amongst the troops. Go.”

  Talbot wandered through the river bed, which had become a hive of activity. The base had finally taken shape. What it lacked in beauty it made up for in function. The only viable route of attack was across the open river bed, which meant negotiating that moat first. Then there was two layers of brick to get through. Quantum had crafted a “loose” section that passed for a door but wasn’t obvious from the outside.

  The base was a squat, ugly bunker from hell and Talbot hoped Ashby was smart enough not to try and breach it. To go around it would cost him at least four hours of back-tracking back down the ravine - those hours could be crucial in the end.

  “Sir,” an engineer said hesitantly. “Private Mannet has fallen ill, sir.”

  Talbot went to investigate. Fielding and Corbin were hunched over a prone body. Mannet’s arm was charcoal grey, and there was a lumpy protrusion at the inner elbow.

  “Some kind of tic,” Fielding said. “They’ve set up shop under his skin.”

  Talbot couldn’t help but wince. He could see a cluster of bulging sacs moving around under there. Mannet was pallid and close to death.

  “Corbin, do we know the cure for this?” Talbot asked. “I can’t afford to lose any men.”

  “Not yet, sir,” came the reply. “Samuels and Nikken are out scouting the jungle.”

  “Come with me,” Talbot said. “We need something Fielding can use.”

  “Something in the Cessilade family,” Fielding called after them. “Look for green holotags.”

  Every harvestable item in the jungle sprouted a holotag. The information contained on that holotag seemed to vary depending on the skills of the soldier. For an ecologist specializing in botany, not only would the plant’s scientific name appear, but also its medicinal properties and practical uses.

  Of course, the vast majority of these species were yet to be discovered, so it was up to the games makers to instill a little poetic license. Many of the plants were based on known specimens, whilst some were a random collection of attributes.

  Talbot split up from Corbin and collected as many specimens as he could. After an hour he’d accumulated enough XP to level up. He selected another squad based perk - any Terran troops within a fifty yard radius would now receive 5% more XP. It was a handy bonus and reflected his solid level progression. Buoyed by his advancement, and conscious of time, Talbot returned to the Fielding and handed over his bounty. She raised an eyebrow.

  “Who said John D Talbot wasn’t capable of getting his hands dirty?” she drawled. Just for a moment, the old spark returned. Talbot watched as Fielding conjured a med bench from thin air. It was strange to see such game mechanics in what was otherwise a frighteningly realistic world.

  Corbin also returned with his arms laden with herbs, adding them to Fielding’s stores. In less than two minutes she produced a cannister containing a viscous, rose-colored substance.

  “Looks good enough to eat,” Talbot said.

  “Topical application only,” Fielding chided, applying the salve to Mannet’s bulbous wound. There was no immediate effect, but the stricken soldier seemed to calm down a little.

  “We need you alive,” Talbot said quietly. He wasn’t referring to Mannet, either. Fielding turned and looked at him.

  “I shouldn’t be the only medic, sir,” she said with a sigh. “There should be three of us.”

  “I made a mistake,” Talbot said. “I underestimated the need. I’m sorry, Laura.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  Talbot was inclined to hang around and savor what might have been the rebirth of their relationship, but the host needed to keep moving.

  “Quantum,” he called. “Garrison this base with four lower level engineers. Mannet will join them. Give them one photon charge each. One blunderbuss to be shared amongst them. Wilkes - whip the rest of the host into march formation.”

  Talbot paced back and forth as the orders were given. The troops were waiting in the sun within two minutes.

  “We march southwest,” Talbot announced. “Scouts in the vanguard as usual, eyes peeled for more beacons. Remember, the Irians are right behind us.”

  The troop began marching under a harsh noonday sun. Talbot was grateful for the constant proximity of the river. Without it, they would only get so far in the open. Steep granite walls loomed on either side, but the river bed was flat and benign.

  Talbot’s was suffering from mild heat exhaustion by mid-afternoon. The gorge had narrowed and the host was now trudging through ankle-deep water. Talbot tried to position himself immediately behind the vanguard, marveling at his scouts’ efficient patterns of movement. Porter, in particular, seemed well in control of the uncertain situation. As a level 6 pathfinder, he had access to predictive terrain modeling on his wrist pad.

  Porter advised that the terrain was about to change. Sure enough, the gorge petered out into gently undulating meadow. The host moved slowly over soft, marshy ground. The wet meadow was dominated by a scarlet flower that gave off a bitter scent. Before long Talbot felt decidedly heavy and sluggish. He had Corbin run an analysis on the flower - it was an unknown species and required more time.

  “It’s not safe around here,” Wilkes warned.

  For several minutes there was no sound save for the squelching of boots in mud.

  The swamp seemed to promote drowsiness and fatigue. Telling himself that the swamp wouldn’t last forever, Tal
bot forced himself to concentrate on the footprints left by the scouts. His gaze drifted to his right, where pale ghost gums swayed in the breeze. Something twinkled in between the trunks.

  “Wait!” he cried, rushing over to investigate. He heart pounded with joy - it was a beacon. Though his legs felt like lead weights, he leaped into the thing with unbridled glee.

  “That’s four,” he said more soberly as his soldiers gathered round. “This swamp has been worth it after all.”

  “Should we garrison this beacon?” Quantum asked.

  Talbot shook his head.

  “Negative. We don’t have enough troops. A couple of commandos might have been perfect for the job, but we don’t have that option. Let’s keep moving.”

  A glance at his wrist pad told Talbot that the beacons, once discovered, stayed on his battle map. At least he’d be able to find them again should they need to double-back to defend or re-take them.

  Thankfully the host reached more solid ground as the afternoon shadows lengthened. Avari’s sun dropped below a ridge to the west, allowing the troops to continue in more comfort.

  Of course, the steady progress couldn’t last. A thick wall of jungle awaited them to the south. Knowing the Irians were behind them, the host had no choice but to attack the thicket. Though the going was slow, Talbot was simply glad to be moving, to be proactive.

  With any luck they’d locate another beacon before night fall, which would give them five in total. If they could maintain mobility on the third and final day, they might even be able to retain a majority, which would win them the battle for Avari.

  Talbot’s best case scenario turned out to be conservative. An exciting message was passed down the line - two beacons had been sighted. Better still, they were located in open terrain and were easily accessible. Talbot rushed to his scout vanguard, where Porter and Fielding were crouched on the edge of the jungle.

  Two glorious, shimmering beacons sat at the base of a cliff across a placid lagoon.

  “Do we know how deep that water is?” Talbot asked.

  “Negative,” Fielding said. “But the only potential danger I’ve seen is a red whip snake.”

  Light was fading fast. The flat area beyond the lagoon looked a promising camp site as well as an obvious defensive choke point.

  Talbot turned to Wilkes.

  “I want all men except the scouts across that lagoon,” he said. “We need defensive positions around those beacons ASAP.”

  “What do you need from us, sir?” Fielding asked.

  “Stay alert,” Talbot said. “Visibility through the jungle isn’t great and I’m certain Ashby is headed this way. Bunker down and make sure of your shots. We can defend this location as long as we set up correctly.”

  “Affirmative, sir.”

  There was something in Laura’s eyes as she headed off to organize her team. A flash of uncertainty that troubled Talbot. Since the scouts were staying behind, he elected to lead the way through the lagoon. The water was cool and inviting. The lilypads and water moss bobbed and drifted as if they hadn’t been disturbed for eons.

  The center of the lagoon was only waist high. Feeling more confident, Talbot quickened his pace. He sensed the Irian threat a split second before it appeared, drawing his assault rifle.

  16

  “Guns!” he roared as an entire company of dragoons emerged from the dark water. A harpoon bolt whistled by his right ear as he pulled the trigger. He sprayed bullets left to right, trying to find an effective angle against the ambushers. Ichor splattered into the water as he broke through the ring of Irians and sprinted to the far side of the lagoon. The dragoons behind him were making mince meat of the unprepared engineers. The entire back half of the lagoon was scarlet with Terran blood.

  “Forward!” Wilkes cried, his assault rifle spitting death.

  His mind retreating into battle mode, Talbot advanced to the nearest dragoon and clubbed him over the head with his rifle. The man’s skull caved in with a sharp crack and Talbot was already onto the next one. The dragoon eluded him easily. A brazen line of enemies were working their way through the outgunned engineers. Their advantage was their superior mobility in water, which they were exploiting to the full. In fact, the ambush couldn’t have been planned any better. The Irians had waited with admirable discipline until over twenty engineers had waded in.

  Now the Terran soldiers, armed only with plasma pistols, were being brutally slaughtered. The shock of the ambush allowed the dragoons that extra second they needed to reload their harpoons. Worse, Fielding’s scouts were blindsided in the jungle and didn’t dare fire through the retreating Terrans.

  “Fielding, get your scouts out of there!” Talbot yelled over the general com channel. “It’s a trap!”

  Through the trees to the north Talbot could see the looming bulk of a sentinel. Ashby and a second enemy force were approaching from that direction, looking to break the Terrans like a hammer on an anvil.

  “To me!” Talbot shouted in desperation. It was the only play. Only death awaited the engineers in the jungle. Talbot made eye contact with Wilkes, who nodded in understanding. The Terrans needed to break back through the dragoon sweepers and escape along the base of the cliff - if that was possible.

  “To me!” Talbot yelled, waving frantically at his troops. At first there was no discernible response.

  “To me!”

  The first engineer heeded the call, then another. Within seconds a torrent of engineers rushed back through the dragoon sharpshooters and joined Talbot by the wall. He could see Fielding and her scouts fleeing east through the trees, eagerly pursued by Irian foragers. They were smaller than dragoons but looked even quicker.

  “Follow,” Talbot barked, rushing east along the cliff wall. He wasn’t sure if he had all the Terran survivors in tow but if they waited any longer they’d be sitting ducks.

  “Go!” Talbot yelled, waving the host onward. He covered his comrades’ retreat with concentrated rifle fire, burning through the last of his magazine and dropping two dragoons in the process. He followed his troops into thick jungle, glad to have some cover. The host scrambled desperately through the bracken, several of them tripping over unseen roots and logs.

  Talbot’s heartbeat hammered in his ears as he urged his tired, sore body onward. Harpoon bolts thudded into the tree trunks left and right. The soldier in front of Talbot received a bolt through the neck and fell. Talbot had a sickening thought - what if Ashby had issued a directive not to kill him? What if Ashby saw Talbot as an asset to be protected, a man more damaging to his own people than to his enemies?

  It was pointless to speculate. All Talbot could do propel himself forward. The host had run for what seemed like an hour before Talbot spotted Fielding and her scouts through a mass of hanging vines.

  “You’re clear,” Fielding called out, her gaze fixed on the tract of jungle behind them. “The Irians have given up the chase.”

  “Ashby’s cautious,” Talbot panted. “After all, he can afford to be.”

  Giving in to his fury, he struck the nearest tree. Pain reverberated down his arm but he didn’t care. Ashby had played him yet again, and now the losses were heavy. Despite Talbot’s best efforts to stay ahead of the game, his nemesis had found another way to best him.

  “Form up,” came a familiar, gruff voice. Wilkes strode through the undergrowth, his brow furrowed with grave concern. Talbot was inexpressibly glad to see him.

  “Thought you’d fallen,” was all he could manage in the circumstances.

  “There was plenty of heat,” Wilkes muttered. “But some of us made it.”

  The commando ran a head count. Seven scouts, fifteen engineers, one commando, one Talbot.

  Twenty-four Terrans in total.

  “Just under a quarter of our starting force,” Talbot said, feeling nauseous.

  “Which means I just lost six scouts,” Fielding said.

  “Fifteen engineers,” Quantum said, crestfallen.

  Talbot felt like
his guts had been ripped out. All those specialists he’d been cultivating - gone. Such a waste of talent. He hadn’t been able to protect them - that was the harsh reality of situation. He turned his mind to the ramifications of the battle they’d barely survived. He’d been certain his force had stayed ahead of the enemy. Ashby must’ve have driven his troops incredibly hard. Not only had they crept ahead Talbot’s army, they’d had time to embed themselves in the terrain. Talbot couldn’t begin to comprehend the discipline that would’ve required.

  “They’re tired,” he muttered. “That’s why we’re still standing here.”

  “But where do we go, sir?” Wilkes asked urgently. “The Irians could will be on the move again.”

  “Let’s push east,” Talbot said. “I don’t think they have god-like stamina, but I’ve been wrong before.”

  He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice, which wasn’t ideal for a leader.

  The Terran host filed silently through the trees. It was a silence Talbot had known many times in his soldiering career. A time when defeat was so absolute there really was nothing to say.

  Wilkes ensured the pace was brisk without being unsustainable. They walked alongside a high ridge that veered north. At length an opposing wall crept in from the southeast until they found themselves in a ravine. Porter dropped back to walk alongside Talbot.

  “You sure we should head this way, sir?” he asked.

  Talbot knew what he meant. The ravine was prime ambush territory. Hell, if Talbot had more troops he’d set one up himself. But Ashby knew he didn’t, so he would come. Once his troops were adequately rested, they would keep pushing until the Terrans were run down. The battle for Alpha Centauri would be over after just the second phase.

  Just as Porter was about to head back to the vanguard, Talbot grabbed him by the elbow.

  “What do you know of the battle zone, Porter?”

  Porter shrugged. “The pathfinding skill tree gives me detailed orientation, but only for already discovered terrain.”