Wounded Legion_a mech LitRPG novel

by Xavier P. Hunter

“Great,” Reggie said with a sigh of relief. As much as having Zimmerman on board might have helped, he didn’t know how he’d handle trying to manage his therapist as a commanding officer. “Then maybe you can help me with my real problem.”

  “You have a problem more pressing than a larger faction intent on keeping you under their jack boot?” Zimmerman asked.

  Reggie took a long drink of the doc’s beer before answering. “No. It’s all part of the same puzzle. I’m outgunned. I have some folks I can’t completely trust. I can solve two of those problems with one simple bit of info from you.”

  Eyeing Reggie cautiously, Zimmerman backed a step toward the door. “I don’t have any special pull with the Valhalla West people. We’re on friendly terms, but I don’t ask them to violate game rules on my behalf.”

  “Nothing like that,” Reggie assured him. “I just need the names and in-game contact info for the other patients like me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The next day, Reggie scrolled to the bottom of the Wounded Legion player roster and took satisfaction in the additional names Dr. Zimmerman had helped him add. These fine fellows had been more than happy to tag along with someone in the same boat—or in this case, hospital bed—as them.

  They were waiting for him in the hangar, lined up and at proper military attention:

  [Chipz - Scout L4 - Chaser]

  [SwampFox - Gunner L8 - SwampThing]

  [Monty - Commando L5 - Tallyho]

  [Spike - Gunner L7 - Nails]

  None met the level requirement he and June had agreed on for the advertisement, but all of them had been wounded in the line of duty and brought into the Armored Souls universe as part of Valhalla West’s veteran charity initiative.

  “Welcome to Wounded Legion,” Reggie said to them. “You are all aware that we are in a state of war. The Liberty Clan is an affront to the name they’ve taken. They are petty thieves and thugs. We are outmanned and outgunned, but we’ve got something they can’t match. Do you know what that is?”

  “Guts,” SwampFox guessed.

  “Maybe,” Reggie replied, pacing the line. “But what else?”

  “Guile,” Spike suggested.

  “Not convinced of that one,” Reggie said, shaking his head. He didn’t plan to make them spend all day playing guessing games, however. “We have more soldiers than they do. And at the end of the day, war is a soldier’s game. They log in to play at being what we’ve been trained for, what we’ve bled for, what we’ve pledged our lives for.”

  Chase commented from the sidelines. “I was under the impression that we were in a game.”

  Reggie looked over and met Chase’s eye. “It’s more than that to some of us.”

  “Permission to speak,” Monty said, still at attention.

  “Go ahead,” Reggie said. “I’m looking to run a tight outfit here, but this isn’t actually the army. Speak your piece.”

  Monty gave a curt nod. “The psych said I’m not getting out of my bed back in the real world. Not sure how long I’ll be able to keep up the good fight here. Body’s about done for.”

  Reggie swallowed. “This whole assignment is voluntary. You ever feel like maybe there’s some other way you’d rather spend your final days, I’ll understand. Believe me. I’ll understand. But back there, we’ve got bodies failing us. We’re not useful to anyone. That’s the toughest thing for me to accept. Right here, right now, we have a chance to carve out a little place for ourselves or at least go down trying. Fighting. I’ve got to fight every day to keep going. Most of my friends here in Wounded Legion log out every morning. They go to work. They go to school. They pick up groceries and play with their kids, drink real beer, swim in real pools, and have real sex. Us? The four of you, me, and Frank are here because this is what we’ve got left. It’s as much or as little as we make of it, and I vote that we make all we can. You with me?”

  “Sir, yes, sir!” the four barked in unison.

  “Dismissed,” Reggie said, then broke into a grin. “You guys are going to do great here. Don’t worry over the formalities. We’re friends around here. We’ll get you up to speed on the intricacies and faction politics, then worry about getting your jugs up to par and deciding on skill progressions. If anyone needs build advice, Chase is your man.”

  June stepped in. “And if anyone needs a shoulder to cry on and doesn’t want to bother Dr. Zimmerman, I’m Nurse Mallet back in the real world.”

  Spike gawked at her. “Really? You? I wouldn’t have known that—”

  June put a finger to her lips. “Most of them have only seen the digital version of me. Let’s let a lady keep her secrets… corporal.”

  With a frantic nod, Spike agreed. “Yes, ma’am!”

  Reggie took in the scene. The new guys would be fine. He’d make sure of that. He’d added another five bays to the Green Zone hangar, stretching Wounded Legion’s funds to their limits. With Liberty Clan leaning on them, expanding their income was going to be tricky. But even if they had to run mercenary missions to pay upkeep costs, Reggie swore he wouldn’t downside the legion.

  “We’re going to win this thing,” Reggie promised everyone.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  That night, Chase summoned Reggie into Silent Shuriken. They perched atop the roof of a pagoda some nine stories above the flagstone courtyard below with the night wind whipping past their masks.

  “Why are we meeting up here instead of in a nice quiet room at an inn or something?” Reggie asked. He felt like he ought to be shivering, but for all the chill in the air, he wasn’t cold.

  Chase stepped to the edge of the rooftop and crouched, looking down. “Because those are the sorts of places people look for covert meetings to overhear. There’s a whole class of missions in this game that revolves around that mechanic. Sneak into X. Listen. Overhear Y tell Z about Q. Report back to your lord. Anyone with half a brain in his head can figure out that the same thing applies to players. That’s why I like the idea of meeting up here. No one can approach us without me spotting them. None of the hearing-enhancement perks or items—even combined—have the range to listen in from afar. There’s no lip reading because we’re shinobi and wear masks.”

  “Fine,” Reggie relented. “Explain to me in one tirade or less why we’re having this meeting. I was thinking maybe you just wanted to switch up for the night before getting saddled with a bunch of needy noobs to train.”

  Chase snickered. “The Needy Noob Platoon. I like the sound of that.”

  “I was going to go with Delta Platoon.”

  “Whatever,” Chase said, standing and walking the perimeter of the roof as easily as most people would pace a room at ground level. “I wanted to talk to you about espionage.”

  Reggie peered over the edge, trying to fight back against the vertigo sensation that snuck up on him even in game. “Well, this whole game is espionage. Seems appropriate.”

  “Not Silent Shuriken,” Chase said. “Armored Souls. I want your permission to act as an agent on behalf of Wounded Legion. I could go behind your back easy, but I want to be up front with you about this. We may have a mole—I’m damn near positive we do—but there’s no reason we can’t play offense as well as defense.”

  “You thinking of joining Liberty Clan?”

  Chase laughed so hard Reggie thought he might plummet from the roof. Backlit against the full moon, he looked like a werewolf, convulsing in his transformation. “No,” Chase said when he recovered the power of speech. “They’d be idiots to let me in, knowing I’d just come from Wounded Legion. I’d have to create an alt account and earn my way up from scratch. That’s too much like real work.”

  “What then?”

  Reggie didn’t have a head for this duplicity. There were probably a million obvious schemes he was overlooking.

  “I mean to bribe a guy from Liberty Clan to be our mole.”

  Reggie made a sour face.

  “Oh, come on!” Chase prodded. “It’s perfectly fair. They’re doi
ng it to us.”

  “We think.”

  “If they’re not, they might as well be. You said yourself, Ken Bradley doesn’t care. He thinks this is all fair play in a war game.”

  Reggie considered for a moment. “We have terms of service to consider. I can’t risk a ban.”

  “You’re not the one taking the risk,” Chase assured him. He reached inside his shirt and pulled out a concealed blade, twirling it through an intricate weaving pattern through his fingers, he presented it to Reggie hilt-first.

  Reggie accepted it.

  [Dirk +5 Heart-Stab](unable to equip; requires level 10)

  “Nice,” Reggie said. “What do I do with it?”

  Chase took it back. “You? Nothing. Me? With your permission, sir, I’d like to show you.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Reggie followed Chase on a frenetic run through the city of Crescent Port. They traveled by rooftop, leaping from one building to the next. Wind whipped at the cloth of their uniforms as they flew through the air. Clay tiles clattered under Reggie’s clumsy feet while Chase tiptoed across them at a spring, quiet as a mouse’s sigh.

  When Chase dropped to ground level, Reggie caught a quick glimpse of his fingers tracing a pattern in the air. Grouped up with him, Reggie was privy to the skill he’d just used.

  CHASE USED [Shadow Armor]

  CHASE USED [Prickling Hairs]

  Wondering what type of trouble his companion was expecting in this lonely ally behind a teahouse, Reggie prepared for the worst. He sketched a symbol from his own skill scroll.

  [Spider Eyes]

  It wasn’t much, but Reggie was now able to see around himself on all sides. The effect was disorienting at first, being able to see the point where the peripheral vision of his left and right eyes overlapped behind him. Soon enough, he grew accustomed to it.

  “I hate that one,” Chase said softly. “Makes me feel like I’m going to puke.”

  “What are we doing here?” Reggie asked, taking Chase’s comment as evidence that it was safe to speak.

  “We’re meeting a guy inside. Name is Choumi.”

  “What’s that mean?” Reggie asked.

  Chase shrugged. “Nothing. Same as Chase and King mean nothing in Japanese. Just a bunch of sounds he liked. I dunno. Get your head screwed on right, and watch your back. Getting killed here is no big deal; just have to respawn. Getting caught as spies might have consequences in Armored Souls.”

  As Chase started toward the back door of the teahouse, Reggie caught him by the arm. “Wait. We’re meeting a contact here.”

  “Ooh. Look who’s getting in spycraft lingo all of a sudden. Yeah. Choumi is part of Liberty Clan.”

  None of this felt right. As Reggie followed Chase inside, they were met with curious NPC eyes from all around. Most of the patrons were dressed as respectable tradesmen, merchants, craftsmen, or soldiers. Only he and Chase wore ninja garb.

  With his Spider Eyes active, Reggie was able to watch as the furtive glances became bold and filled with hatred as soon as the onlookers thought they weren’t being observed.

  A hostess guided the two of them to a table off to one side of the room, walled off on three sides with a shin-high table and cushions to sit on. There was already a man waiting for them, dressed in a blue-and-black ninja uniform and silver sash.

  “You must be—” but Chase cut Reggie off with an upraised hand, not even looking back at him. Right. This was his arena.

  “You got the item?” Choumi asked, for there could be no doubt who they were meeting if Chase was stopping to talk with him.

  Chase reached back into his shirt for the dagger. He held it out sideways, grasping the blade as if his glove were the sheath. Choumi’s eyes lit with avarice.

  The instant Choumi reached for the weapon, Chase jerked it back out of reach. “Info first,” Chase said. “Non-negotiable.”

  “How do I know it’s legit?” Choumi asked.

  Chase’s voice was cold. “This is a PVP area. I could lay your entrails out from here to the city gates before you had a blade in your hand.”

  “So what? It’s a free trip back to my dojo.”

  Slowly tucking away [Dirk +5 Heart-Stab], Chase flicked his wrist and a different weapon appeared in his grasp. This blade was black and translucent, flowing like a heavy fog yet always keeping a pointed shape.

  “You know what this is?”

  Choumi shrank back. “Only from the wiki. Never seen one in game. They’re like a one-in-a-million drop.”

  “They’re not loot at all,” Chase corrected him. “You only get them for performing special services to the dev team. The drop rate on the wiki is just a guess, and it’s wrong. If I stab you with this, it’s as good as a one-week ban. You’d have to roll up a new character to play in the meantime.”

  “They better not let that into the released version,” Choumi said with false bluster.

  Chase slammed the [Dirk +5 Heart-Stab] down on the table between them. “Talk. Make it worth my time and you walk away a happy man.”

  “Geez,” Choumi said. “If you guys were half this scary in Armored Souls, no one would fuck with you.”

  “Give us time,” Reggie warned, trying to match Chase’s dark menace. “We will be.”

  He could only promise himself that wasn’t empty bluster. Reggie wanted to be the kind of faction that no one messed around with, but that day was a long ways off.

  “Fine,” Choumi said, visibly forcing himself to relax and take a breath. “Liberty Clan doesn’t defend all our holdings. We mostly raid and hold new planets, then once interest dies down in someone taking them back, we leave ‘em naked to reduce maintenance costs.”

  “Give us names,” Chase demanded. “I want at least one actionable target we can hit tomorrow, and the dagger’s yours.”

  “Torbek,” Choumi said. “It’s near you guys, maybe a fifteen- or twenty-minute ride from your op center depending on your drop ships. Napoleon knows the cycle rate on the galactic intel updates. We garrisoned five platoons there just before the last intel sweep. What you see listed is the defensive rating that keeps people from sneaking in and taking it. Right now, there’s nothing there but default automated defenses.”

  Chase looked to Reggie. “Your call.”

  Reggie nodded. “Give him the dagger. If it turns out his intel is bogus, we come back and give him the other one.”

  Chase pressed his hand down on the [Dirk +5 Heart-Stab] and used the leverage to push himself to his feet. Once he was standing, he lifted his hand and left the dagger. Reggie followed him out of the teahouse.

  “Nice work,” Chase said once they were alone and back atop a roof not far from the meeting site. “You played that cool.”

  “What the fuck’s up with that other dagger?” Reggie asked. “Who in their right mind puts in a weapon that lets players ban one another?”

  Chase snickered. “It doesn’t. It’s a prestige piece. Stats aren’t horrible, but I’ve got better. Stuff listed on the wiki is datamined troll bait from the dev team. Everyone on the project carries one, but you’ll never get the same story twice about what they’re supposed to be able to do.”

  “So, Torbek?” Reggie asked. Chase nodded. “Any idea what it is?”

  “Other than our next target?” Chase asked. “Nope. But I’m all for taking it and finding out.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Contrary to Chase’s jesting suggestion of attacking it to find out what was there, Reggie consulted the galactic map before committing to an assault on Torbek. The place was a banking center, the digital-age equivalent of a gold mine. Reggie already owned a gold mine on Schet IX, and it didn’t earn anything like what the banks of Torbek would net Wounded Legion.

  “All right, people,” Reggie announced. “We’ve got reason to believe that the Liberty Clan stronghold on Torbek is vulnerable.”

  All around the War Room, every pair of eyes was pointed his way. Reggie took that attention and diverted it to the holographic
map as he activated it. “Here is our target, not quite on the edge of Liberty Clan space.”

  “They’ll see us coming,” Lin said. “That colony on Tupak II is in range of our approach angle.”

  “Not if we take the long way around and come at it from here,” Reggie said, pointing a finger into an unassuming blank sector of space. “It’ll add eight minutes to the outbound flight time, but they won’t have any forewarning of our approach until we hit orbit. Anyone here rather get there eight minutes quicker and face ten times the opposition?”

  Not a single hand went up. Not even Chase’s as a joke.

  “What’re the odds we can keep the daft rock once we’ve got it?” Frank asked. “Sure, maybe it’s the Liberty Gibbets’ version of Wall Street, but what good’s that do us if they take it right back?”

  Reggie grinned. He and Chase had already discussed this point before leaving Silent Shuriken. “We’re not going to try. The second we take control of Torbek, we start plundering it. By the time Liberty Clan shows up to reclaim it, we’ll be packed up and off-world, pockets filled with credits.”

  June crossed her arms. “So… we’re becoming bank robbers?”

  Chase fired finger pistols in the air. “Yeehaw! Stick ‘em up, partner. We’re pullin’ a bank heist.”

  June took a moment, then nodded slowly. “I’m down with that.”

  “Anyone else have objections?”

  Silence. Heads shook.

  “Then let’s round up our juggernauts and ride!”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The planet Torbek glittered from orbit like a diamond ring. The console in Vortex was patched into the drop ship’s forward view screen, and Reggie admired the view on their approach.

  No alarm had sounded, indicating that Wounded Legion wasn’t under fire yet. Reggie wasn’t ready yet for the types of missions that started under fire even before touching down planetside. Thus far, Choumi’s information was proving accurate. Normally Reggie would have assumed anti-orbital defenses on a planet this valuable if he didn’t have hard intel that said otherwise.